I have come to a dramatic spiritual and ethical crossroads in my life. My name is Nick Askew, and I like Garrett Anderson. There. I said it. It's out there.
I used to dispise "Friggin" Anderson, because he has notoriously been the laziest and worst fielders in baseball. We call him Mr. Clean, because he RARELY gets dirty. I would need all ten fingers and ten toes on everyone in my house to count the number of times he a) didn't hustle to a ball he could have caught, b) didn't hustle to a ball and allowed a single to turn into a double, c) didn't properly backup another outfielder and allowed a runner to stretch extra bases. The old rap on GA was that, while he was a career .300 hitter, he was anti-clutch. He would notoriously be a rally-killer, getting out in any key situation, with men on base and threatening to take a lead.
Since the World Championship year of 2002, a lot has changed, at least in the way I view him. Anderson made a series-saving sliding catch, and that I think started the ball rolling. Garrett has also developed into the very epitome of "clutch" in the last two years. Instead of groaning and pissing and moaning when he comes to the plate, I'm actually pretty stoked when he comes up in clutch situations. Last night he hit a three-run homer that won the game for the Angels.
Sure, he's still a crappy fielder most of the time, and frustrates me to no end with the way he can cost us runs in the field, but the good far outweighs the bad and that's enough to make me say that I am
I'm now just praying that, to use a Dr. Phil-ism, this isn't a deal breaker for my wife...