Last month I wrote a completely irrational column about how I have trouble warming up to Ryan Braun because I’m convinced that he’s going to leave us one day. Some readers and a few bloggers rightly mocked me for writing this because—as I noted in the original piece—Braun’s contract currently runs through 2015, so even if he decides to leave the Brewers, it won’t happen for several more years. And yet I still hold Braun at arm’s length because, well, I’m an idiot who won’t let himself be happy.
Strangely, I’m perfectly fine loving Prince Fielder, even though he signed only a two-year deal in the off-season, which makes me an even bigger idiot, not to mention a hypocrite and laughably inconsistent. (Though because I've pointed it out, it's acceptable.) There's a teddy-bear lovability to Fielder that Braun lacks; he has Babe Ruth’s physique and Lou Gehrig’s personality. If Braun is the cocksure “king of the school” type I’ve always loathed, Fielder is the secretly talented quiet fat kid who will one day grow up to be rich. How can you not love that kid? When the guys are shooting the shit in the dugout, I like to imagine Fielder sitting in corner, drawing robots on his notebook cover. (Except when he's smacking around Manny Parra, which definitely needs to happen again soon.)