Jimmy Rollins and Chase Utley, Philadelphia Phillies
Utley, about whom we're not allowed to write without first describing him as “steely” and “a gamer,” will sour on his double-play partner after Rollins provokes the Mets with another of his poorly timed and nonsensical taunts (“the Mets are a bitch sandwich!”). Because steely gamers don’t fight their battles in public, Utley will deny the existence of a rift and accuse the media of inventing it, despite a shattered eye socket that suggests otherwise.

 

Brian Bannister and Jose Guillen, Kansas City Royals
Bannister ranks among baseball’s most thoughtful, candid interviews, jokingly attributing his success in day games to opponents carousing the night before. Guillen has played for nine teams in 11 years and, in May, summed up KC's issues by quipping, “Too many babies in here...Now I know why this organization’s been losing for a while,” while sporting a .246 BA/.275 OBP/.427 SLG line. Soon, Banny will be asked his opinion of Guillen’s transgressions against baseball etiquette, and answer honestly. His response will set Guillen aflame, to an extent necessitating mobilization of the National Guard.

 

Alex Rodriguez and an inanimate Gatorade cooler that won’t hit him back, New York Yankees Forget that his teammates, the New York media, and thousands of talk-radio callers have been mouthing off about A-Rod’s "empty" numbers and ignoring the fact that he’s superior to Derek Jeter in every quantifiable way. When the bucket stationed in the northwest corner of the dugout cracks wise after A-Rod’s next rally-deflating popup, the well-compensated superstar will crack. He’ll pound that mouthy piece of plastic in a way that’ll teach it a lesson, screaming “you’re not my daddy!” until his throat is raw. His teammates will pass by the scene, unmoved.

 

Greg Maddux and Chris Young, San Diego Padres
This feud will begin when the legendarily brainy Maddux suggests that Christopher Marlowe actually wrote many of the plays credited to William Shakespeare. Young, a Princeton alum, will beg to differ, offering a raft of historical documents and literary analyses to prove that Francis Bacon was the real scribe. Maddux, not used to challenges from well-reasoned whippersnappers, won’t merely disagree, but will do so in the strongest manner possible, perhaps even gesturing with his hands for emphasis. This’ll get ugly.