It's probably easy to rationalize now, but I remember hating Sean Burroughs all the way back when he was in the Little League World Series talking about how he wanted to be a vagina doctor when he grew up. This was a guy who was primed every which way to play baseball, given every opportunity, forced two separate All-Stars out of position to make room for him, was the son of an MVP and somehow still ran and swung the bat like a five-year-old, relying on his ability to move fat and a chop-chop motion with his arms to demonstrate "hustle".

It eventually got to the point where I'm pretty sure GM Kevin Towers, manager Bruce Bochy, and all of the coaches hated Sean Burroughs, too. It was almost as if they realized much too late that maybe Sean Burroughs wasn't Jeff Burroughs and even then, Sean (not Jeff) Burroughs would have to be Jeff (not Sean) Burroughs circa 1974 to be worth anything. Now that I think about it, my hatred is totally rational, but I truly believe that if Sean Burroughs ever amounted to anything, I very likely still would've hated him, thereby justifying my would-be unjustifiable hatred.

See the more irrational hatred from around the NL West.