Harrisburg: A Cautionary Tale From a Pennsylvanian

Congratulations Mr. Bryce Harper!

You have just been fast-tracked to Double-A and now only one step separates you from Major League glory. I know you have plans to rule MLB with a ruthlessness unseen since the days of Genghis Khan, but before you can do that, you must first conquer Harrisburg.

Yes, Harrisburg. Over the years, this deceptively small Gomorrah that lies between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia has claimed many a promising young soul. You must resist the pull of the Harrisburg fast life. The nightclubs. The beautiful women. The drugs. The celebrity culture.

Avoid it all, lest you end up like Jacobo Sequea. Remember Jacobo Sequea? Of course you don’t. The Harrisburg spotlight proved too much for him. As the story goes: after being thrown out of Harrisburg’s last bar when it closed at 9 pm, the depressed Jacobo made the 20 minute drive on 322 to nearby Hershey, PA where he embarked on a “Leaving Las Vegas” style chocolate binge that saw him consume a commercial shipment of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. He was declared missing by his teammates after failing to report for two games in a row and was found in a roadside Econolodge face-down in a pool of melted Kisses. Luckily, paramedics arrived just in time to revive Sequea, but he entered rehab for chocolate addiction shortly afterward and has not pitched since.

Don’t be like Jacobo Sequea, Mr. Bryce Harper.

Always keep in mind that on a media stage as big as Harrisburg, your every move will be carefully scrutinized. The best advice I can give you is to never go outside unless you absolutely have to. The notorious Harrisburg paparazzi are just waiting for you to slip up. And in a city with as much temptation as Harrisburg, you are bound to slip up if you go outside. Learning to live as a recluse is a valuable skill that will pay dividends when every baseball writer in America hates you for failing to feed their egos by giving them the quotes they want.

Finally, stay focused on the future. Realizing your potential as the biggest douche in the Major Leagues in two years is far more important (and lucrative, of course) than becoming the biggest douche in Harrisburg tomorrow.

The good news is that after Harrisburg, it will only get easier.

I wish you the best of luck and will continue to follow your career closely.


A Concerned Pennsylvanian

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Eric writes about the Phillies at The Good Phight. Follow him on Twitter.

12 Responses to “Harrisburg: A Cautionary Tale From a Pennsylvanian”

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  1. Mike m says:

    I live in Harrisburg too… It’s not exactly a figurative Gomorrah …

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  2. Brad says:

    Nothing says Central Pennsylvania like the name “Augenbraun”.

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  3. David says:

    A pool of melted kisses – awesome. Just awesome.

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  4. camisadelgolf says:

    Jacobo Sequea’s demise wasn’t the result of Harrisburg’s thriving nightlife, chocolate binges, nor the superb agricultural scene. It was the fact that he was a pitching prospect under Jim Bowden’s tenure as GM. Sure, there are a couple success stories like Todd Coffey, Dustin Moseley, Scott Sullivan, Bobby Madritsch, etc. But for every “success” story, there are a million sad ones like those of Ryan Wagner, Ty Howington, C.J. Nitkowski, John Roper, Ed Yarnall, Rob Bell, Chris Gruler, Bobby Basham, Richie Gardner, Ross Detwiler, Collin Balester . . .

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    • Titcomb says:

      ugh…As a Reds fan, reading that list makes me cringe.

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    • marc w says:

      Wow…that Bobby Madritsch counts as a ‘success’ in this context really underscores your point. Shoulder basically blows up when he’s in the Reds system, then, years later, pitching in an indie league in Winnipeg, he’s spotted by an M’s scout, enjoys heartwarming rise through the system, enjoys a couple months of MLB success…and the duct-taped shoulder explodes again.

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  5. matt w says:

    If Harper stays away from drunk-driving state legislators he should be OK.

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