Does anyone remember the Elegy of Brien Taylor?

I can still remember pulling his rookie card out of a pack of Topps, proudly and with the utmost care sliding the pristine mint beauty into the No. 6 slot on the first page of my 1992 set. I was 10.

Taylor was drafted by the New York Yankees out of high school in 1991. Clocked in the upper 90s, he was the best pitching prospect Scott Boras had ever seen, and a "Sports Illustrated" cover boy.

Boras, well on his way to becoming the infamous super-agent we all know and love to hate, was just making a name for himself, negotiating for the first overall pick the highest signing bonus ever dreamed of: $1.55 million.

Fast forward 18 years. Taylor is a brick layer in po-dunk North Carolina with a bum shoulder and five daughters.

Days the prodigy spent in the Major Leagues: zero.

And now we have the next chosen one: Bryce Harper, a high school sophomore.

Harper's parents have pulled him out of high school at the halfway point, confident in their son's abilities, as well as those of Boras.

Harper is scheduled to take his GED and enroll in community college so that he can become eligible for the draft a year sooner, in 2010 instead of his projected high-school graduation year, 2011.

Two years of high school and a year of the calendar be damned, the Harpers must really need that money.

Promises of a 96-mile-per-hour fastball and 500-foot home runs are enough for any Division I scholarship offer, from Florida to Arizona State to Fullerton, any of the perennial baseball powers. He could graduate high school, work toward a college degree, and build a foundation for a promising career and life.

But his education is hardly a concern.

Harper may be going into college next year, but it's only a formality. He won't take a date to his high school prom and his only concept of team has come from barely pubescent teenage boys. Like Michael Jackson, he won't get the chance to finish being a kid. Maybe Jennifer Capriati is a better comparison.

His community college season, if he even plays, will be nothing but a publicity stunt. Along with his classes.
 
They say he and his family are humble, yet the 16-year old is already talking about becoming the greatest ever, a future Hall of Famer.

We've seen him hit tape-measure shots in batting practice, but his high school statistics (.626 with 14 home runs and 55 RBIs in 115 at-bats, 22 doubles, nine triples, 36 stolen bases) came against Las Vegas-area high school talent.

He has yet to see a big-league curveball or run on a Major League catcher's arm. I wonder how many 96 mile-per-hour fastballs he saw in high school? Throwing one and hitting one are two different things. I wonder how many steroid tests he's taken?

Harper may be the next LeBron James in sports hype, but he may end up the ultimate choke artist too. Sound harsh?
 
If someone expects millions of dollars and the best career ever at age 16, then they also have to think about the antithesis of that dream.

Becoming the next Brien Taylor.

One can only hope Harper saves enough of his amateur signing bonus to pay for an education later - if he does join the Brien Taylors of MLB's epic fail world.

Good luck, Bryce. Even the greatest ones needed a little.

Paul Gadbois is a sports reporter for Tri-County Newspapers. Contact him at 824-1036 or sports@tcnpress.com.