Missives

Dear Jilted Red Sox fans,

Manny Ramirez really didn’t like you. He thought you were a terrible lay, plus he faked 78.2% of his orgasms with you (he was thinking of someone else the other 21.8% of the time). Now he is happy that he is far, far away from you. This is all your fault. Now get over it and move on. Manny has.

Dear Yankee Brass,

How is that new stadium working out? Potential riots are always grand PR. Who was the doofus in charge that told his people to tell the fans last night’s game was called because of weather? You get the fans in the park and get them to blow their concessions money before you announce the game is called. Oh, you probably don’t have to fear the stadium finance subpoenas. After all, you would have never done anything improper. Getting the press angry at you was a sheer brilliance also. The world is tired of fluff pieces; angry scribes telling the world what a piece of excrement your new digs are will certainly draw fans who want to check it out to see if the reporters are wrong.

Dear Mark Shapiro,

Another fine job of building a bullpen. Go ahead and give us your annual lament about how hard it is to construct a pen. Meanwhile, your team blew its seventh save of the year this afternoon by giving up seven runs in the seventh inning. The good news is that your closer’s ERA (7.20) is slightly lower than your third starter’s (7.46).

Dear Larry Dolan,

One of the job requisites of a MLB general manager is to build a bullpen. Your guy in their now is woefully inadequate in this regard. We have seen this movie before, and it does not end well.

Dear City of Cleveland,

LeBron James will one day depart as all things good must leave Cleveland; it is a law of nature. The only type of people who stay behind are the invalid, Bill Livingston and you — and Bernie Kosar because anywhere outside of Northeast Ohio, he was the third best QB in his division when he played.

Dear Cubs fans,

1908.