Let’s be honest. Bryce Harper’s contract extension request is a little cringe.

Bryce Harper is well within his rights to ask for a new contract. The Phillies are well within their rights to say no.

Philadelphia Phillies catcher J.T. Realmuto (left) and Bryce Harper celebrate their victory over the Marlins following Game 2 of an NL wild-card baseball series at Citizens Bank Park on Oct. 4, 2023.Read moreYong Kim / Staff Photographer

Published Dec. 15, 2023, 5:00 a.m. ET

If Bryce Harper ends up getting his new contract from John Middleton, he should celebrate like any true Phillie would. By bending over at the waist, dropping his palms between his legs, and pretending to juggle an oversized set of reproductive luggage.

Harper has done plenty of impressive things in his first five seasons with the Phillies.

Asking for a contract extension less than halfway through a 13-year, $330 million deal?

That takes some stones.

To be clear, I say that with a great deal of admiration. When Harper first hinted at the idea that he was hoping to rework his deal, my reaction was amusement. When Scott Boras stood up at the winter meetings and said with a straight face that Harper wanted a contract that would allow him to retire as a Phillie, the amusement turned to awe.

“Bryce has certainly expressed to them that he wants to end his career in Philadelphia,” Boras said.

Keep in mind, when Harper’s current deal expires in 2031, he will heading into his 39-year-old season. Since the end of the steroid era, only three players have hit 30+ home runs at that age. Alex Rodriguez did in 2015. David Ortiz did it in 2015 and 2016. Nelson Cruz did it in 2021.

This should be the easiest negotiation of Middleton’s life. There is only one reasonable offer.

No.

The notion that Harper has outperformed his contract is mostly a testament to how bad these contracts usually are. The thing that he has really outperformed is our expectations. When Harper signed, there was a little voice in the back of everyone’s minds that was whispering, “Total disaster.” Sure, ninety percent of your brain was hoping that this would be the move that put the Phillies back on the path to contention. But the other 10 percent was simply hoping he wouldn’t turn out to be Anthony Rendon.

Harper quickly proved those fears unfounded. He is a different sort of competitor, one of those rare breeds who operates with a sincere sense of physical and psychological impunity. He may not play until he is 45. But if anybody does, it will be him.

That’s the kind of thing a team can’t really know when it signs someone from the outside. So, yeah, in that sense, Harper has been a revelation. Otherwise, he’s been exactly the player whom the market deemed to be worth 13 years and $330 million five years ago.

The guy came to Philly with an MVP award and a .952 OPS in his previous four seasons. That’s pretty much exactly what we’ve gotten since he’s arrived. During that stretch, he ranks in the top 10 in the majors in OPS+, on base percentage, and slugging percentage and is in the top 30 in home runs and steals. Nobody has been better in the two postseasons he has played (min. 100 PAs). Not in batting average (.324), not in on base percentage (.432), not in OPS (1.137), not in home runs (11). That’s great. It’s exactly what he was signed to do.

You don’t give the pilot a raise every time the plane doesn’t crash. You don’t wake up in the Four Seasons after a wonderful night’s sleep and offer to pay a higher rate. You don’t eat a perfectly-cooked Wagyu tomahawk and ask the chef for his Venmo address. You got what you paid for. That’s the way capitalism is supposed to work.

As good as Harper has been, he hasn’t been better than Mookie Betts in his first four years with the Dodgers. He hasn’t been any better than Gerrit Cole in his first four years with the Yankees. Corey Seager is off to a heck of a start with the Rangers.

Frankly, Middleton owes it to the rest of baseball not to set a precedent. The nice thing about baseball’s economic landscape is that it is largely devoid of the contract disputes and trade demands that plague the NFL and NBA. There’s a reason for that. Baseball’s financial structure is as open as it gets in professional sports. Every player has the right and ability to earn what the market will bear. If a player feels like the market isn’t bearing enough, he can negotiate an opt-out clause, or two, or three, and try again later.

Harper and Boras decided they didn’t want any opt-outs. At least, that’s what they said back when he signed. Harper wanted to stay in one place for the rest of his career. Now, another eight years isn’t long enough?

Harper has bristled at the eye-rolls elicited by his persistent odes to the fanbase. Which is why, as much as I admire him for this obvious and unapologetic attempt at cashing in on his leverage, I can’t help but cringe.

Sometime this postseason, somebody asked Harper about the crowd at Citizens Bank Park and he responded with his typical effusive praise. But it came with an interesting qualification.

“Everybody thinks I pander a lot, but it’s real,” Harper said. “It’s so real, it’s from the bottom of my heart, and I’m just thankful to put this jersey on everyday.”

Thing is, what message does it send when he turns around and uses the same language while making like Oliver Twist?

Please sir, I want some more.

“I’m very fortunate, very blessed to put this uniform on each day with the Phillies across my chest and so thankful that me and John [Middleton] were able to sit down after the 2018 season and get something done,” Harper said in August after hitting his 300th home run. “Like I said, very fortunate to have a long-term deal, and play this game for a long time. Hopefully I’m able to do it for even longer than what my contract looks like right now. I love being a Phillie, plain and simple. It’s something I dreamed about.”

Look, Harper has earned every penny of his contract thus far. Middleton was correct when he labeled the deal a “bargain” this postseason, even if he was caught up in the moment of it all. If the Phillies do end up tacking on a few more years to his deal and using some clever accounting to lower his official payroll hit, more power to him.

Let’s just hope that’s as far as it goes, and that Harper doesn’t end up putting the Phillies in a position where they are forced to sacrifice any degree of future competitiveness to make him even richer. There is nothing unethical about what the Phillies are paying Harper. Nobody has outperformed their contract more than Zack Wheeler.

Fact is, Harper should be thrilled with the way things have worked out. Contracts like the one he signed with the Phillies back in 2019 often turn out to have a self-destructive quality. The team fails to contend as it struggles to afford necessary improvements around its highly-paid superstar. The superstar fails to perform as he struggles with the weight of expectation and responsibility. When both scenarios occur, things can get ugly.

You’ve seen it play out in Anaheim with Mike Trout, an all-time great mired in obscurity on a perennially mediocre team. You saw it play with in Texas with Alex Rodriguez, his record 10-year, $252 million deal leading not to a World Series but to a trade to the Yankees. You may be seeing it play out in San Diego, where the Padres are looking toward the future barely a year after signing Manny Machado to an 11-year, $350 million extension.

Harper himself has seen it up close.

Trea Turner is the most intimate example. His epic 2023 slump had a happy ending, and, with any luck, the era of good feelings will last for another 10 years and $275 million. If it does, it will make him a much happier case than Rendon, a former teammate of Harper’s who went from MVP finalist to cautionary tale after signing a seven-year, $245 million contract with the Angels. The one-time All-Star has played in 148 games over the last three seasons combined. Rendon still has three years and $114 million left on his deal.

Harper could do himself a lot of good by thinking about an alternate universe where his tenure with the Phillies began like Turner’s. Would there have been any standing ovations back in 2018? What if he’d never had a chance to find out? What if, in the midst of his struggles, he’d suffered the injury that sidelined him for much of the second half of 2022? What if he’d never had a postseason to win over hearts and minds? Pat Burrell never fully recovered from the toxicity he endured in 2003. Would Harper?

It’s an interesting thought experiment. So much of life, so much of performance, so much of the narratives that define the performers, they are products of circumstances outside anyone’s control. Slumps happen to everyone, and few will claim to know why they happen when they do. But the timing of those slumps is often the thing that determines whether they are remembered.

The point is, Harper claims to be at a place in his career where he has found joy, peace, and fulfillment. Talk to people who do not experience those things and they’ll no doubt remind you to be thankful for your good fortune. Why mess with a good thing? It is cliché because it is true.

But, hey, you have to admire the cojones.