I hate Bryce Harper. It’s not the “he’s a terrible piece of human garbage” hate – a la Greg Hardy – but the “look at his stupid face I want to punch it” hate. We’re allowed to hate him. There are plenty of athletes you can hate because they’re terrible people, and others you can hate for any number of reasons. That’s fine. I hate Bryce Harper.

Yesterday, I wrote a post relaying a story about Harper collecting some money on the team bus to give to a homeless woman outside the ballpark. That’s nice. Not even 10 hours later, Harper did this:

After being ejected for arguing someone else’s balls and strikes, Harper came back out to celebrate his team’s walk-off win. Instead of just celebrating with his team, he threw some very aggressive words (which I didn’t think Mormons were allowed to say) at the umpire. My headline was “Bryce Harper — Not a Bad Guy!” It’s not hard, but he made me look like a fool.

Maybe baseball needs a really good heel. Harper can be Ric Flair, puttin’ hard times on Mike Trout and his family. Trout’s got the all-American smile, clean-cut look, and big, round, doughy face. Harper’s got the aggressive haircut, streaky eye-black, anger issues, and general air of assholery. But dude. Bryce. Give me one day of praising you before you go and be a dick again. Come on.

Goddamn Nationals.