I firmly believe that an overwhelming majority of Cardinals fans appreciate Matt Holliday. They respect his consistent production, daily intensity, work ethic and willingness to play through injuries.

The majority of fans are impressed by Holliday's reputation as a supportive teammate. This is a guy that pays all of the expenses for a group of Cardinals' position-player prospects to travel to St. Louis in the offseason to join him for workouts, hitting sessions and talking baseball.

A healthy percentage of the fan base know Holliday hasn't changed a bit since signing a seven-year $120 million deal before the 2010 season, and that he's doing exactly what the Cardinals thought he would do before they offered the contract.

The vast majority of fans aren't loud. They don't write nasty e-mails or pepper Internet message boards with insults. They don't call local talk shows to complain about Holliday's perceived shortcomings. Virtually every precinct in the best baseball town in America is filled with reasonable, intelligent fans.

Still, the grouches are out there, and for some reason Holliday drives them batty. I don't know why. It makes no sense. I suppose some fans will never accept the modern reality of ballplayers making $17 million per season. They want to turn back the clock to the era when players made $12,000 a year and had to buy their own ham sandwiches between games of a doubleheader. Somehow, the dramatic change in baseball's economy is Holliday's fault. And the angry bird watchers out there search for imaginary flaws, and can't wait to jump on Holliday's failures.