The problem is that he hit the ground running having to deal with a baffling and aggravating problem. Here he is, the captain of bleeding everything going from victory to victory and does he get the attention he feels due to him? You better believe he doesn't. He's got to deal with a spear-carrier who, for some reason he isn't sure about, has some sort of aura that makes an ordinary slob look like he's all twelve apostles. He thus probably feels as if he's Warren Blackwood having to decipher the impossibility of Liz being attracted to a non-entity everybody treats like he's the second coming.
What makes a horrid situation worse is the unpleasant realization that no matter what people in the outside world might think about the matter, he knows for a certainty that whatever might happen, the locals will swear on a stack of bibles that he got stuck with Archie's leavings and therefore must bear the indignity of having to marry someone their tin god deemed inferior. Since he reacts to the horrid mess he's landed in as well as anyone else in his shoes would, he's given the name of ratfink and jerkwad by people who expect him to smile, smile, smile as he trudges towards a teal and lavender apocalypse of schmaltz.