Some guys love the money. How can you blame them? You'd love the money, too.
Some love the fame. Some love going to work, playing catch, then sitting around in the clubhouse in their underwear, doing crosswords while teammates play pranks.
It's a great life, being a big-league ballplayer, and you can love the life without loving the game itself, without loving the work, without loving winning as an end, not a means.
That's why you should root for Michael Cuddyer as the Twins try to fight off elimination tonight -- because we can only hope that for every money-grubbing, Scott Boras-loving, entitled, spoiled ballplayer in the big leagues there is at least one Cuddyer, a guy who craves the victory handshake.
The last time the Twins faced elimination in a game at the Metrodome, the night ended with Cuddyer climbing onto the table in the clubhouse during a wild celebration, calling for silence and handing out theoretical game balls to his teammates. "This one," he said, holding a baseball aloft, "is for all of you."
The players cheered, and the party resumed.
Cuddyer, who has taken it upon himself to hand out game balls for the past two seasons, may not be in line to emcee any more clubhouse celebrations this year. The Twins trail the Yankees two games to none in the best-of-five playoff series that will resume tonight in the Dome.
So Cuddyer may have to take solace in having gotten the Twins this far, in having become more driver than passenger this year.