Trumbsy 3

Dear Adam: You’re In The Doghouse

Ed note: 

This is part of the 'Dear Adam' series from the 2013 postseason. For more notes to Mr. Wainwright you can read HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE or HERE - The latest installment is below. 

Dear Adam,

OOOF.

I mean, (gross throat gurgle,) how was YOUR day? Did it crackle with the excitement of a fall evening in the postseason? 

Did you get up yesterday morning with the quiet determination to go play some SERIOUS baseball? Did you anticipate the sharp SWOOSH of a thousand strike outs? Or at the very least, the crisp sound of a bat against a baseball and the soft whisper of that same ball landing quietly in a leather glove?  

Because if you thought any of those things, YOU WERE ALL WRONG.

Last night was an unmitigated disaster.

Babe, I KNOW that you were on the unfair end of some of the worst defensive plays I've seen in my adult life. (Probably an exaggeration, but my point stands.)

However, THAT REALLY SUCKED BIG TIME!

I don't want to place blame on anyone, but that's mostly because I don't know where to start. I'm just so angry!  It was so awful!  WHAT WAS THAT???

I'm going to end this quickly, as I need to go take a Xanax and do some aroma therapy.

But seriously. Could you guys please get your shit together tonight and act like you've been here before??? I mean, you are all professionals.

THE BEST. 

This is not acceptable.

At the end of the day, I still love you very much, although I will admit that I threw a vase through an upstairs window last night. Yeaaahhh, that's probably going to need replaced, so you should call Dave and get that taken care of.

Love,

Trumbsy

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