Francisco Cervelli a Yankee Worth Hating?

Hatred for Francisco Cervelli? This just cannot be allowed to stand.

At least one Yankee-hating blogger has come out and ripped the fist-pumping and fiery theatrics of Pinstripe Alley's Yankee muse.

Check out this diatribe from 'The Legend of Cecilio Guante.'

I have a new favorite Yankee to hate. And by favorite, I mean one who gets under your skin and boils your blood more than any other. Francisco is Johnny Bench, Mike Piazza and Benito Santiago all rolled into one -- at least in his own mind. He's also a gnat. He's the type of player you love to hate. And, no, I wouldn't want him on my team. I know how the saying goes. Oh, he's one you can't stand if he's playing against you, but you love him if he's in the uniform of your favorite team. No. No way. Cervelli is not David Eckstein. Eck could be on my team any day of the week and twice on Sunday. The Great Gazoo , on the other hand, I wouldn't want anywhere near the clubhouse.

The reasons are clear for anyone who's watched this 24 year-old kid play. He's over-exuberant, cocky, theatrical and antagonistic. No matter if it's the fourth inning of a game they're losing, the seventh inning of a blowout win or the top of the first, Francisco is fist-pumping and primal screaming on every inning-ending strikeout. If he throws someone out at second? Well, then be prepared for an even more enthusiastic celebration. The Terminator has eliminated you, Mr. Baserunner, and he will now show you up in his home plate mini-dance, fist-pump, animal roar routine.

You Yankees fans sitting there claiming sour grapes on a good, young player? You've got the second part right. From what I've seen, Cervelli is undoubtedly talented and the heir apparent to Jorge. He could learn a few things from Posada, though, on what it means to be a professional. I'm all for enthusiasm, but Cervelli's routine borders on amateur hour.

So, Yankee fans, what say you? Are Francisco's emotional ruminations behind home plate over the top? Is he turning into a Yankee version of A.J. Pierzynski, the universally hated Chicago White Sox catcher? Or, is this just an enthusiastic young player reacting the only way he knows how?