OK, warning – there is a lot of bitterness contained herein, but at least I’ll own it. The overwhelming majority of my hostility lies with myself, and that’s the real burn of it all.
As a fan of the Milwaukee Brewers, baseball’s smallest market team, I’m used to losing out on the bidding war for high priced talent. And truth be told, I never begrudge a professional athlete from going out to get his. Sports is indeed a business and the window is small…you’ve gotta jump through it when it shows the slightest of cracks, for tonight your knee might go and that’s the end of it. So when a dude like Prince Fielder bolts from my team on the open market, I get it and generally tip my cap in thanks for the time we had together.
But I didn’t do that for Prince, mainly because his slugging teammate Ryan Braun had recently inked his name to a lifetime, hometown discount contract. I entered Braun into evidence as “the way you do things,” as a “model for humility,” along the way asking, “How much money do you really need fat a*s?” Yeah…unfortunately I now know why Braun was so eager to get a deal done and get his guaranteed money secured. For that, I apologize to you, Mr. Fielder.
I underestimated the kind of clubhouse teammate you were, the impact of your personality and your leadership. I believed you nothing more than a selfish, money grabbing lard a*s who had not a shred of loyalty within your gigantic person….who couldn’t handle the chilliness of the shadow Braun was casting on your face of the franchise. Turns out, between the two of you, you were the good guy.
But, man, dude…you are still huge! Lay off the nachos and maybe you could have caught up to that pop-fly. What? That’s all I’ve got left. All the best to ya, big man. Continued success…and calories. "Smilie" - :)