The one thing you must understand is that my lack of disdain for the very disdain-worthy Ryan Raburn isn’t entirely rational. I can’t explain or reason with it any more than I can explain or reason away any number of my odd, irrational attachments.
Raburn isn’t a very good player. He has his moments of brilliance, as do most Major Leaguers; he was good enough to make it to the Majors and be a mediocre to downright bad replacement level (or worse) player. There are plenty who never made it that would probably give nearly anything to walk a mile in Raburn’s cleats.
My entirely irrational fondness for Raburn lies in a family death in 2009.