*Image courtesy of Kelly @www.sittingstill.net*
From: Miss Hathaway
To: The Powers That Be (My employer made me address this letter as such. I have no idea why)
Dear Wing Nuts, (Again. His insistence. I do apologize.)
Since none of you silver spoon born morons have responded to my previous FIVE letters (I'm afraid this is my fault; he wrote them but I never sent them. 4 contained language that would make a sailor cringe and I was afraid the 5th one would attract the unwanted attention of the Secret Service, PETA, and The Tea Party and decided discretion was the better part of valor.), I'm writing this as my final mea culpa on the 2010 season.
With the unbelievable amount of injuries and "bad luck" the Red Sox have had this season my inner Oliver Stone has gone on high alert. Throw in the Rangers actually being good for the whole year, Jose Bautista morphing into the second coming of Micky Mantle at the plate, and the Padres on the verge of making the playoffs and I'm already in contact with Stone's people to get the screenplay written.
If this is the last rational thought I EVER have, (you have no idea how hard it was for me to write this. He hasn't had a rational thought since Bush Sr. was in office) if I've gotta watch Joe Girardi and his stupid braces grinning like some backwoods hillbilly on FOX this October hoisting the WS Trophy after they've beaten the Phillies or suffer the eye burning, nausea inducing sight of Joe Maddon and the Rays wearing Sansabelt slacks and white loafers as they arrive in San Fransisco to play the Giants there is going to be hell to pay.
You think the Mitchell Report or the Warren Commission was tough to sit through?
I've got that guy whose under the ethics review in New York, Bill Lee, the guy who played Kevin Costner's "JFK" role in an off, off, off Broadway play and the cousin of a guy who knows a guy whose sister is dating the unpaid intern of Howard Stern is down as well.
Not Howard. The intern.
If Ron Washington and his Nolan "I can still throw smoke and give you an atomic wedgie anytime I want" Ryan's Texas Rangers don't finally bust through and get to the dance the next time you see me will be on CNN or The Maurey Povich show, whichever one ponies up first.
Anyways, this shall be my last manifesto until Spring Training, 2011 although I hold the right to change my mind should a miracle happen and they somehow make the playoffs.
Red Sox Dad
P.S. Tell Selig he can go pound sand where the sun don't shine. I'll never forgive that mumbling dink for not letting Buck into the HOF before he died.
P.P.S. If Timmeh doesn't win the Roberto Clemente award these contests are as fixed as the WWE.
(My sincere apologies for this recent rant. He hasn't been well since that nice young man Dustin got hurt and when that large, bearded fellow that plays first and yells a lot followed him? Let's just say that his morning coffee had a little friend I added to try and keep him calm. Only 13 more years and I can retire and go live in a box to live out my final days.)
Building for Keeps
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