Hell Hath No Fury Like A Pitcher Scorned

Spite is a powerful emotion too often cast in an ugly light. To feel slighted or doubted is a natural urge, as is our desire to press our doubters' eyes up against a window to watch as we prove them wrong. We are taught to repress and do away with such unbecoming resentments. But how else can we stunt on the haters? If there's an underdog story you love, there's a good chance that it required a healthy grudge. By conservative estimates, I would say that half of my greatest accomplishments have come to fruition because I was motivated out of spite. It got me into a prestigious university, it dragged me towards my diploma, and it’s part of why I have this internship. I say without an ounce of shame that I am spiteful to my core. And I can spot one of my own from a mile away. In the days after he was left off the All-Star Game roster, Zack Wheeler stayed quiet. He let himself be cast as the doubted underdog and had his agent do the talking. Talk B.B. Abbott did, announcing to The Athletic that he was breaking his silence on All-Star snubs to call the decision to leave his client off the roster “tone deaf.” I don’t know what sheet music Abbott is reading, but I would hardly call it anything more than a bit pitchy. (The Justin Verlander legacy nomination, however, is the Fergie national anthem.) Regardless, Abbott talked at length about Wheeler's determination and focus in coming back from thoracic outlet decompression surgery. Abbott painted a perfect portrait of a hardworking yet constantly overlooked ace. But I saw the glimmer of spite in the pitcher’s eyes. When Wheeler took the mound on Tuesday against the Cincinnati Reds, I knew I was about to witness a masterclass.