Buying What Bryce Harper is Selling

I’ll come right out and say it, I am buying what Bryce Harper is selling, you guys. Let’s say I was walking down the sidewalk and came upon Bryce Harper standing behind a rickety old fold-out table, upon which were hundreds of handmade bracelets and earrings and necklaces. Let’s say that on the table was a sign, spelling out the various prices of each item and the potential discounts I would receive if purchasing more than one. Let’s say Bryce Harper was the sole proprietor of this handmade jewelry stand, and that all the pieces were creations of his own design and execution. Let’s say Bryce Harper stood there, patiently, with a black apron around his waist holding a wad of American dollars and loose American change. In this scenario, this hypothetical circumstance that I’ve just laid out before you, I would buy that handmade jewelry being sold by Bryce Harper on the street. I would buy a shitload of it.

All that is a very long-winded and ridiculous way to say that I am a Bryce Harper fan. This might not seem like the most aggressive of stances, but the kid has a way of polarizing people. Love him or hate him, they say, there is no in-between. It might seem odd that I, a bespectacled and wimpy English major who hasn’t played competitive baseball since fifth grade, would find himself in favor of a brash 19-year-old with a preposterous haircut who’s been groomed as a future MLB talent from birth. The universe is a strange and mysterious place indeed. Part of it may be my insufferable contrarian nature, but I’d like to think it’s more than that. I won’t go so far as to say Harper “plays the game the right way” (because I will never say that about any baseball player and if I ever do be sure and flog me mercilessly), but there is an undeniable verve with which Harper partakes in the sport. I’m sure the French have one, if not two different ways that this particular charm could be expressed. Call it a hunch. Bryce Harper AKA Teenage Thunder wears legitimate stirrups! I defy you to not find that awesome. This cult of personality was well on display the other night when Harper stole effing home plate. He was first drilled in the back by a Cole Hamels fastball (for an excellent take on that whole debacle you won’t have to travel far), then, after running to third in a very aggressive manner following a base hit, Harper broke towards home with abandon when Hamels opted to check the runner at first. This sequence of events was, in a word, glorious. Not only is this particular play one of the more exiting in all of sports, but there was the added satisfaction of justice reigning down upon Hamels following his illogical and ignorant hubris. Sometimes light does shine from the darkness, baseball fans. Despite a well-earned reputation as an excellent hitter and prodigious power potential, the most striking skill that Harper has showcased in his young MLB career has been his arm strength. Dude has a canon. I’m now officially excited that the Nationals opted to move Harper from behind the plate as a catcher and into the outfield, because longer throws from a laser rocket arm are more conspicuously impressive, and this way we’re sure to witness a lot of them. Harper also runs really hard all the time—in the field, on the base paths—it’s very entertaining for everyone and gives announces a chance to bring up Pete Rose to fill airtime. Win win!

At the time of this writing, in the smallest of small samples, Harper has hit .308/.424/.500. That’s good for a 150 wRC+, and accounting for some excellent defense, Harper has earned himself .6 fWAR. That’s more than Albert Pujols! And I’m sure he can throw the ball harder than Jaime Moyer! (Those jokes are still a thing, right?) The interesting thing about being cocky, or at least being perceived as being cocky, is that if you can back it up, you’re a hero—a singular force of sheer will, determination, and destiny. Bryce Harper might not be there yet, but he’s on his way. What the hell, this could be fun. I’m buying it. Buying it, like the title and beginning of the post, remember?

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Kyle writes baseball nonsense at The Trance of Waiting. You can follow him on Twitter @AgainstKyle.