Baseball players don’t care about you. It’s not their job to care about you, or your family. Jerry Seinfield says it best when he makes the joke about how baseball fans just cheer for clothes.
Sure, sometimes there’s a hometown kid drafted by their hometown team and because you can truly relate to that local ballplayer, you are a fan of them instantly. Said player might be involved with local charities. He might have grown up rooting for the very team that now employs him. So, because said player grew up being a fan of the very team that you’re a fan of, and because said player now plays for said team, you’re more of a fan of him than, let’s say, the guy who’s on a one-year deal.
But, that’s rare. More times than not, because of free agency and trades, baseball teams are made up of guys who are on that baseball team because their job is to play baseball. Baseball is their trade. They’re being paid to do their job. And, more times than not, they’re on their respective team because that’s the team that has offered them (and their agent) the most money. Not because they love the fans. Not because they love the city. Not because they are a fan of your favorite team. Bartolo Colon didn’t have an affinity towards Atlanta. Neither did B.J. Upton, or even the great Greg Mddux. And sure, R.A. Dickey was a Nashville guy, but the only reason he came to Atlanta was because they paid him millions of dollars to be an okay pitcher every fifth day.
This is the cold hard truth. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be a baseball fan. It doesn’t mean that nothing matters and that you cannot get emotionally invested into something greater than yourself that you cannot control. It means that baseball players don’t care about you. They don’t necessarily hate you (unless you’re that weirdo who travels from park to park in an attempt to collect as many baseballs as humanly possible). They just don’t care about you. They don’t make their decisions on or off the field with you in mind.
Baseball fans are a needy group of folks. We like to pretend that we’re purely analytical without any type of emotional capacity. But we need to feel appreciated. We want players to love us and appreciate us just like we love and appreciate them. We even hinge our own moods and reputations to the success or failures of an athelete’s play or his public perception.
We want this so badly, in fact, that the smallest act of kindness from a baseball player lightens our world. A baseball player tossing our son or daughter a used game baseball (that he did not pay for) can influence our opinion about a guy instantly. You’ve heard someone tell a story like this, for sure. “I love so-and-so because back in 2010 he threw my kid a baseball.” Because of that tiny measly moment, which the baseball player forgot 5 minutes later, you and your kids are now a fan of that player for life. You buy his jersey. Your passwords and login info are changed to the guy’s first name and whatever year it was that he threw your kid a baseball. You troll anyone on the internet who ever lifts a virtual finger against the player who threw your kid a baseball back in 2010. How dare someone slander such a heroic and selfless human being? If they knew him, they wouldn’t say such disrespectful things.
Imagine if our standards for each other were at the same level as our standards for baseball players. Freddie Freeman threw your kid a game-used baseball (that he didn’t pay for) five years ago and since then every time Freddie Freeman’s name comes up in a conversation you’re going to let everyone know, “Freddie Freeman is the nicest guy ever. He threw my kid a baseball five years ago when the Mets were in town.”
Apply that to your next door neighbor and think about how weird that would be. Just imagine. When Norm pulled into his driveway yesterday when he got home work he threw my son Eddie some of his grass clippings as he walked inside. He didn’t stop to talk, but it meant so much. He just didn’t have to do that! My neighbor on the other side of my house never throws Eddie any of his grass clippings. But Norm did. Norm’s now Eddie’s favorite neighbor and we’ve named our chocolate lab Norm.
Baseball players don’t care about you. Dexter Fowler didn’t care about Cubs fans so much that he went to their competitor after him and his wife “prayed about it” because the Cardinals gave him millions of dollars. Roger Clemens went to Yankees because he didn’t care about Red Sox fans. Tom Glavine played for the Mets because they offered him more money than Atlanta.
At this point, there’s a good chance that you’re thinking about Chipper Jones. Chipper Jones is a unicorn. They don’t exist. Cherish him, but know that the only loyalty that is constant in your life is the loyalty of your friends and family. Baseball players are not your friends and family.
Baseball players don’t care about you. This is the first step in becoming an emotionally self-sufficient baseball fan.