If the games were always this exciting, we wouldn't need $17 beer.

Football coaches spritz their troops with spittle. NASCAR drivers get punchy in a barroom-brawl, "them's fightin' words!" manner. But for the sheer magnitude of nuts-losing paroxysm, no sport can match baseball—and, in particular, these titans of tantrum.

Lou Piniella
Whenever we see one of Piniella's exquisitely choreographed on-field explosions (step-step-curse-step-kick-dirt-step-jazz-hands-step-kick), we can't help but wonder how he reacts to frustration off the diamond. If the kid at the Arby's drive-thru gives him a beef-and-cheddar rather than a bacon-beef-and-cheddar, does he exit the car, berate the teen mercilessly in front of his peers, then douse him with horseradish sauce?

Earl Weaver
There were two great things about the former Orioles skipper's meltdowns. First, that he regularly unleashed every F-bomb variation known to man, and second that he often invented a few new ones ("fucktastic!") in the process. It's amazing that he broadcast games for years without once running afoul of the FCC. You'll love this clip, as much for the soundboard-quality audio as for the fact that Weaver looks about four feet tall in it.

George Brett
We all know what happened in the famous pine-tar game: Brett's late-game dinger was waved off due to excessive goop on his bat, prompting a conniption best described as "when road rage meets 'roid rage on the other side." Yet a 30-minute search fails to turn up a single online clip of said conniption. Happily, there are eerily accurate reenactments and smiley fizzy-drink ads to fill the content void.

Hal McRae
A Google search for "'Hal McRae' tirade" returns a mere 604 responses. Which is sort of heartwarming, given that the guy is generally remembered more for 90 seconds of boorishness rather than a gracious playing and managing career that lasted more than 20 years. Still, he owes that poor desk an apology.

Milton Bradley
Isn't it interesting how this ballplayer-cum-occasional-sociopath's Wikipedia bio doesn't mention any of his many locker-room spleen-ventings? This particular fit is notable in that, while wrestling the near-postal Bradley to the ground, Padres coach Bud Black destroyed the poor guy's knee. There's a lesson about karma to be found in here somewhere.

Phil Wellman, Mississippi Braves
If you're a minor-league manager, there are good ways to get yourself noticed by the big-league club, like by instilling prospects with a solid work ethic. And there are bad ways to get yourself noticed by the big-league club… like this.