Dear Junior,
To everything there is a season under heaven. A time to be born, a time to die. A time to reap, a time to sow.
A time to retire. That was last year. I swear it's not too late. Please.
You batted .214/.324/.411 during your swan song in Seattle. That's Gerardo Parra territory. You know Gerardo Parra? Me either.
As an ancient Mariner, you're an albatross. Worse, you're getting worse. You're so limited in the field that your DH defense stinks. So does your attendance. The dog eats your homework, not to mention your hamstring, a lot.
Give yourself a 40th birthday present next week. Trade yourself to your family. Watch Trey play high school ball. Talk old times with dad. Watch games in HD on your home projection sytem. Curse at Joe Morgan.
Please. Don't make us cut you.
Love,
Baseball Fans
b
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