分类： IT业界
2011-07-06 16:30:48
"We understand it," Senators pitcher Patrick McCoy said. "The Harper Show is in town."
Bryce Harper's show slowed Tuesday with four groundouts, though one was good for an RBI and appreciative applause from a small crowd. A night earlier, Harper stroked a Fourth of July single to center on his first Class AA pitch and finished 2-for-3 with a walk and a run scored before a roaring throng. He talked to reporters briefly that night after his call-up from the Class A Hagerstown (Md.) Suns.The wunderkind outfielder is mostly not allowed to talk to the news media, per policy, yet somehow his lips sometimes get him in trouble anyway.
Last month Harper puckered up as if to kiss a pitcher who'd just served him a home run — one of his 14 — and the baseball world roiled for days, which doesn't happen much in the minors. ESPN played the clip on a loop. Sports radio shows yakked. Hall of Famer Mike Schmidt criticized the can't-miss kid.
Stretching in the outfield before Monday's game, the Senators — older, more seasoned and closer to the majors than Harper's Hagerstown mates — gently razzed the new kid about the kiss. "You have to rag him a little bit," third baseman Stephen Kingsaid.
"Maybe he's made a couple of mistakes, showing guys up," McCoy said. "But when you have talent like him, I think you can do that a little bit. It's just his confidence level. Obviously, his confidence level is another level from everyone else."
Harper was the No. 1 overall pick in the 2010 draft and signed a five-year, $9.9 million deal. Fans come specifically to see him. So how come some of them boo?
"He gets it because of the hype, I guess," Suns catcher Dave Freitas said. "He doesn't deserve it, but that's fans."
Hype alone doesn't really explain it. Stephen Strasburg was the top overall pick for the Nationals in 2009. He didn't hear many boos as he made his way around the minors last year. What's the difference?
"It's very strange," said Suns pitcher Taylor Jordan, who has played with both. "I have no idea."
Boos greeted Harper at June's South Atlantic League All-Star Game, perhaps because host Delmarva (Salisbury, Md.) is an affiliate of the , Washington's regional rival. (Harper also will play in Sunday's All-Star Futures Game in Phoenix.)
"People have him under a microscope and try to find things wrong with him," Suns third baseman Blake Kelso said.
"Bryce has an intensity that some people mistake as arrogance," Nationals director of player development Doug Harris said.
"I hear people booing and chanting, 'Overrated,'" he said. "I don't think they realize the kid is only 18 frigging years old."
Harper ought to be weeks removed from his senior prom; instead, he accelerated through high school in Las Vegas, enrolled in junior college and was drafted at 17.
His amateur career ended prematurely days before that draft when he was ejected from a Junior College World Series game after drawing a line in the dirt to protest a called strike three. His second ejection of the season earned him a two-game suspension.
In that one year of JC ball, he was only a year or two younger than teammates and opponents. At Harrisburg, two of his teammates are 29.
"Age doesn't really matter in professional baseball," Suns pitcher Chris Manno said. "You're forced to grow up. Everybody in the clubhouse loves him."
That hit-and-run kiss is one of the reasons they do. Harper's former Suns teammates say he was just standing up for them; they say Greensboro (N.C.) pitcher Zachary Neal was staring them down after strikeouts.
"The pitcher was showing us up the whole game," Taylor said, "and Bryce finally tattooed one and showed him that he's not the only one doing something out there."
Most of the Suns never saw the subtle lip-pucker when it happened as Harper rounded third for home. Like everyone else, they saw the close-up later on TV.
"We just laughed about it," Kelso said. "Good times."
These days some of the Suns wear T-shirts that say: Droppin bombs and blowin kisses. Even Harper wore one, Kelso said, adding, "But it's totally a joke."
Speak rarely and wear a funny shirt.
Blasting away
When Harper spoke briefly before the South Atlantic League All-Star Game, he said he didn't care what people who didn't know him thought.
His former Hagerstown teammates know him. He hit .318 with 46 RBI in 72 games. What is Harper like? The Suns use words like normal and hard core and quiet.
The Suns say they treated him as one of the guys, trading wisecracks. When Harper walked into the clubhouse, teammates would sing, "Dah-nah-nah! Dah-nah-nah!" Jordan said, mimicking the SportsCenter theme.
If you want to know Harper and can't talk to him, Kelso said, just watch him take batting practice — or, better yet, listen to it.
"It's a different sound off the bat," Kelso said.
"It's his bat speed," Manno said. "I've heard maybe four or five guys in my life make that sound."
There's Harper, a day later, leaning on his bat, waiting his turn in the cage. The 6-3, 225-pound slugger steps in as the loudspeaker plays Blinded by the Light. He takes his cuts, swinging his powerful lefty stroke.
Thwack!
The ball sails to right. A half-dozen players are shagging flies there. They don't turn their gaze to follow its flight. They know by its trajectory it is long gone.
That's a glimpse of the mighty Harper who was introduced to the nation on the cover of Sports Illustrated as "The Chosen One" in 2009 when he was 16 — and said he wanted to be the greatest ballplayer who ever lived.
He doesn't speak in those sorts of superlatives anymore, when he speaks at all — a far cry from the Harper who told The Washington Post in March: "I love to talk to the media. It's a blast."
More like a blast from the past. The Nationals' policy is this: Harper does no one-on-one interviews. He speaks to reporters only after a game and only if his play factors into its outcome. Even then he takes only questions about his performance that day.
So what is the reason for the policy?
"It's our decision," the Nats' Harris said.
But wouldn't Harper want to talk if not for the policy?
"It's our decision," Harris repeated.
Yes, but what is the reason for the policy?
"It's our decision," Harris said a third time.
Making friends
James and Jenn Wilhide had a baby boy a year ago June. They named him Bryce.
"The Nationals had just drafted Harper," James Wilhide said, "and I had a feeling he might be coming up through Hagerstown."
Wilhide followed Harper on Twitter, and they began to communicate — "joking around," as Wilhide puts it — and, when Harper got to town, Wilhide and pal Mike Kuhn befriended the phenom. They run a T-shirt business on the side, including the dropping bombs, blowing kisses shirt.
That one sells only by word of mouth. The big seller locally goes for $22 in the Suns' souvenir shop: Harperstown.
"We got an license, usually an eight-month process, in four days," Wilhide said, "because they knew Bryce wouldn't be here for long."
Sure enough, Harper moved up to Harrisburg this week, bypassing the Nationals' advanced Class A team in Woodbridge, Va. He is expected to play the rest of the season with the Senators and then in the Arizona Fall League.
"It's going to be Baseball 101," Senators manager Tony Beasley said.
"We'll take him under our wing and show him how to be a professional every day," McCoy said. "He'll be fine. He just has to grow up a little."
Monday, Harper sped from first to third on a hit and run — on a groundout. The Harrisburg crowd roared its approval.
