As a little kid, my idol was Willie Mays. He had been traded to the Mets and my dad would regale us with stories of how great he was as a NEW YORK Giant (my parents never got over the Giants and Dodgers leaving town). His 1972 card was the one every single kid wanted, even years later, and although he lost all of his steam, he was still considered godlike, as my friends and I would imitate his basket catch. Fast forward to the 80's and 90's and all I would ever hear is what a nasty a*shole he was in person, so I made a choice. I wanted my idol to remain as prominent in my mind as he was during my childhood, so the decision was made. As much as I wanted to see him in person, if he was appearing somewhere near me I simply wouldn't go and have my image of him shattered as he treated my autograph request with disdain. (With music, I had a similar, but not angry, attitude towards Pink Floyd. I love 'Wish You Were Here,' 'Animals,' 'Dark Side,' 'Meddle,' etc., so much that I chose never to see them in concert when the chance arose. Their music means so much to me that I simply didn't want to realize that it was 'simply' 4 English guys on a stage doing it. To me, it came from some sort of magical place. Your musical tastes may vary.) Of course, if you take my adoration for The Say Hey Kid and multiply it by millions of other people, then we can imagine what Mays has been faced with for more than half a century (I know, get a real problem). So as much as I hate to admit it, it's partially understandable why he became the way he is.
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