Nevermind his explosively jovial presence in the Yankee clubhouse. Pay no attention to those 27 homeruns. Disregard his selfless donations to community charity and his insatiable propensity for all-world positivism.
This dude is a friggin’ tool.
Whether you focus on the plastic hook-tag still fastened to the top of his cap, the pantyhose wrapped around his right wrist, the forced bleary eyed smirk of a man you’d never let date your sister or the weak flash of a devil horn gang sign while mugging the camera, this Nick Swisher looks more like every frat guy you’ve ever hated.
Move over Tucker Max because apparently they do serve Swisher in hell.
Hate me ‘cuz I hate on the playuh, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
(*Image courtesy of Jim McIsaac/Getty Images)