Sad day for the nation in the wake of the Aurora, Colorado shooting. No weekend preview this week. But something uplifting.
You love Bryce Harper with your heart. Your heart sees through prescription glasses. Blemishes don’t exist. Harper’s arrogance is endearing, his long swing fixable, his over-aggression something out of which he’ll grow. He hustles like Larry Flynt, hits balls a mile, parlays his different sort of athleticism—a longer, lither kind—into playing outfield like a natural despite having spent all of a season and a half there. He’ll hit for average. He’ll play Gold Glove defense. The heart wants.
Onto the weekend, everybody.