I don’t even know where to begin. This is like the Davies “Heap and Frenchy were snobby when I sucked!” retrospective times a thousand. Daniel, when I said you’d made my morning by sending me this link, I really meant you’d made my week.
I never even knew the whole backstory about Heap’s older brother (better dead than Reds? I knew there was a reason I had that phrase stuck in my head last night at dinner). Any article about Heap is of course a delight, but, I mean:
Brian is supposed to be laid-back and beloved in the clubhouse; I hear Brad is a hothead, and he’s probably bitter.
ESPN was NOT fucking around, ya’ll. I basically stopped watching their television channel a few months ago because, well, I just don’t like Barry Bonds that much, thanks, but this article is excellent, no joke. I actually laughed out loud in disbelief at this:
Is Brad the favorite son?
Oh yeah, they went there. Of course, Heap and his brother did not bite. Heap is polite and adorable throughout — there’s even a mention that he called his mom to make sure she wouldn’t say anything during her interview that would imply that he’s better than his brother. He’s actually referred to as “kind of a stuffed animal” at one point. Which is, yeah, accurate.
And then, the brother, who, let’s face it, we’re all sort of wanting to be a little bitter and weird, right, cause how could he not be? Dude is living on a farm with a host family while playing for the Royals’ A-ball team (their mascot is a piece of celery), and when the reporter tells him that Heap says he’d trade places with him if he could, he busts out this little speech:
“I wouldn’t let it happen,” he said, leaning across the table. “Brian has busted his ass since he was a little kid. He’s gonna be there for a long time, and he deserves it. He is my best friend. He’s my brother. I tell him all the time, ‘Whenever something goes bad for me, I’m glad it’s me and not you.’
He’s a freaking Byronic hero, you guys. They’ve got the description of his dreamy looks and everything.
So, I’m pretty much floored. Here’s my only issue with this Pulitzer Prize worthy article:
His teammates call him Heaps, as in heaps o’ fries.
Um, not quite, but a noble effort.
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