They're fighting, they're fighting!

I know that throwing a baseball at someone is not just dumb, but dangerous. Caveman behavior.

And I also know that seeking out physical retribution for someone who has thrown a baseball at you is veiled in a sense of justice, but that’s deceiving. Ultimately, it just perpetuates the probability of more baseballs being thrown at your teammates.

At 47, I’ve come to understand that while anger is a natural, unavoidable and important emtion, acting on that anger is something you frequently come to regret. This is the product of years of reflection and at least five different therapists.

But man, I love baseball fights. Seriously. I love determining why they started, pin-pointing what happened. Pretty much everything about them except when somebody gets actually hurt so I’m not going to even make a pretense of excusing this newsletter, which is dedicated to pointless male violence in the most comprehensive guide that you’ll find to Sunday’s brawl between the Angels and the Mariners.

The background: These teams were playing for eighth time in 11 days. Mike Trout, who homered five times in the five-game series in Seattle last weekend, was up in the bottom of the ninth on Saturday against Erik Swanson. There were two outs, and Trout represented the tying run.

Trout is understandably displeased that a pitch was rifled directly at his noggin’.

On Sunday, Phil Nevin — the Angels interim manager after they canned Joe Maddon earlier this month — announced before the game, the team would be going with an opener, rookie Andrew Wantz.

When Julio Rodriguez came to the plate as the second hitter in the top of the first, the Mariners announcers were openly surmising that perhaps a pitch would be aimed at him. Dave Sims asked Mike Blowers what his advice would be for Rodriguez, stay loose?

“Just be aware,” Blowers said.

Then, first pitch of the top of the second to Jesse Winker sets it off.

First of all, walking toward the other team’s dugout makes Winker a total G. Seriously. That’s not some, “I want you to see how mad I am” energy. That’s some, “Let’s see if you’ll say that to my face,” kind of malice. Winker gets a knot for his trouble, but also acquits himself quite well as we’ll see.

Now, I’ve watched every angle of the fight I could find repeatedly. I’m going to use screen shots and some video to reconstruct what happened as best I can, starting with what Winker saw as he approached the Angels dugout.

Anthony Rendon is in front, and you can see his right hand is in what appears to be a soft cast. He underwent surgery recently, and is out for the year.

No, as Winker came in, he froze for a moment perhaps he didn’t want to throw the first punch. Maybe he didn’t want to hit a dude who was injured. Could be that he was utterly confused by Rendon’s fighting style. Winker gets mushed.

Winker gets his batting helmet knocked off, and he is immediately engaged by a fellow who has a short-sleeved hoodie on. I’ve come to believe this is Ryan Tepera. He will quickly become a central character.

I’ve put together the following video that highlights what happened after the initial clash in which Rendon swiped Winker with his left. You’ll see Winker quickly gets pinned against the dugout rail by Short-Sleeved Hoodie, whom I believe to be Tepera. The frame freezes before Tepera gives him an overhand. Then, J.P. Crawford appears with a pair of flying punches. From there, we see Winker off to the side of the main scrum, delivering what can only be described as a series of wind-up body-blows with his right to Short-Sleeved Hoodie. Those two then wind up at the bottom of the pile.

Winker wound up with a fairly sizeable knot on his forehead, possibly the result of Short-Sleeved Hoodie’s blow. Perhaps from other shenanigans.

Now, let’s go back to document the order of arrival. The first wave of Mariners to support Winker are Justin Upton, J.P. Crawford and Dylan Moore. You can also see Short-Sleeved Hoodie driving at Winker.

Almost immediately, Upton wound up on the ground, starting the pile as the second wave of Mariners arrives: Luis Torrens, Scott Servais and Eugenio Suarez.

Servais almost immediately goes to the ground as well. Losing his hat in the process. It’s unclear whether Servais went to ground to assist Upton or if he’s just too old to be among the first wave charging into a fight.

It’s at this point Crawford distinguishes himself with such bravado and reckless abandon that he has become my favorite Mariner. Watching Short-Sleeved Hoodie deliver a right hand to Winker, Crawford activates his Flying Fist of Fury.

From an alternate angle, inspiring me to say — in imitation of crying Terrell Owens — “That’s my shortstop!”

As the pile is untangled, Servais emerges deep among the Angels back toward their dugout.

We’ve reached the interlude of our fight. The stage of angry milling, and it’s worth noting, before the second stage kicks off, that Servais is still in possession of his sunglasses at this point. This is worth noting because we won’t see those again.

The second scrum twas more dog-pile than fist fight though I guess people in Puyallup refer to a dog pile as a pig pile, which is just weird. Servais emerges from this tangle missing his sunglasses in addition to being down a cap.

That’s a guy who’s seen some stuff right there.