Dear Mr. Sabean:
I’m sorry. I truly am. For several years now, I have cursed you, taken-the-Lord’s-name-in-vein-quickly-followed-by-your-named you and in general spoken ill about you, your health, your intelligence, your sexually related habits and certain members of your immediate family. I am sorry.
I could mention in my defense that never in a million years did I imagine that you would bench Aaron (row-and-two) Rowand, or trade Benjie (Mr. Clutch!) Molina, but you did it. And you didn’t stop there. You and your magic pitching whisperer staff went out and acquired some much needed bullpen help. Even though I didn’t think much of said help at the time, it turns out they throw magic fireballs and not baseballs. So thank you for that, too. Thank you for not trading Jonathan Sanchez, as has been oft mentioned on the site. Thank you for not giving anything up for some lame .260 hitting “RBI producing” outfielder. Thank you.
Maybe this is the law of averages catching up to you. Maybe all of the Michael Tuckers, Dave Roberts and Shea Hillenbrands really weren’t so bad after all and you just had terrible luck. And this year, you went back to the well with Pat the Bat and I was not impressed then but I sure am now (I even chant Pat the BAT! when he comes to the plate!). Maybe not. I don’t really care at this point. We’re playing baseball and it’s October.
In connection with the lifetime exemption that the current ownership group gets for saving the SAN FRANCISCO Giants when they were half way to Florida (where they would probably juuuussst be moving to another city about now), I am currently granting you a two-to-five year exemption (depending on how they do in the playoffs) from criticizing any move you make. I will give you the “benefit of the doubt.”
Not that you give a rats a**. If I were you, I would have let fly with like a fifty-seven word expletive at the easy to criticize likes of me after the final out as the beer foam drizzled from my saltpeppery goatee (if I had one). So, you don’t care. I know you don’t. You’re a GM and I’m not. That proves your smarter, oh and so does this playoff appearance. But I apologize anyway. For karma. Also, I’m changing my passwords, the ones that have your name in them preceded by “fire” and other things like that.
So, I’m sorry Mr. Sabean. I will try not to gag at the table while eating crow after you are awarded Executive of the Year. If this were 1810 instead of 2010, and we were dueling because your honor was tarnished after someone heard me slander you in a bar, I would just let my arms fall at my sides as you took aim with a steady revolver (ouch, those old timey ball-bullets hurt!). I would die a peaceful death, knowing that the Giants are in steady hands. Steadier hands than mine. What do I know? I liked Dan Ortmeier. If nothing else than because in some Latin Countries, his name means Assmeier and I think that’s funny.
Ok. That’s all for now Mr. Sabean. I hope you really enjoy this. I appreciate you more than anything right now and I won’t even talk about what I’ll think if we win some games here, but let’s just say that I’ve got the Vatican on hold, ok? I’m sorry. You’re great.
And tell the guy with the bow tie that I said hey.
-A guy in Section 126