PPS. Thanks for doing this the day after my birthday. I'm sure you didn't plan it that way, but still, I appreciate it.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
PS and PPS Mr. Pujols...
PS. Thank you for not signing with the Cubs. I didn't want to have to deal with that personal moral quandary. And at least with the Angels, I may get to see you when you come through to play the Twins. Though, I will root for the Twins, as I'm sure you can understand.
Another Open Letter to Albert Pujols
Dear Mr. Pujols,
I have written you here before. Twice in fact. Both times I wrote you concerning your impending contract negotiations with my favorite team, the St. Louis Cardinals. And as you probably guessed, I'm writing you now with the knowledge that you have taken a monster contract to play for the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim.
Many people are disappointed in your decision, and I count myself among them, but for different reasons than I've seen expressed. Many people consider this action an act of betrayal or other such notions. I do not consider this anything like that. I understand you are a businessman. I understand you have to do what is best for yourself and your family, and I do not hold that against you.
Instead, I think my disappointment comes from knowing you'll hit your 500th homerun and 3,000th hit with someone else. It's disappointing that I will no longer root for you in the same way. Don't get me wrong, I don't wish you ill (though if you had signed with the Cubs, this may not have been true). But, I don't expect I will feel as connected to your success as I did before. So many moments I lived vicariously through you. That night you destroyed Brad Ligde. That was one of the greatest playoff baseball moments of my life. I sat there angrily watching that game, cursing Roger Clemens and the Astros. I was so angry that they were going to advance to the World Series, mostly because I really dislike Roger Clemens. And just as I was about to accept defeat and start thinking about next year, with the quickest flick of the bat, you changed everything. We were alive again. We were alive and there would be another fight.
A fight, it turns out, we wouldn't win. But that was all right with me, because I had that moment.
And I have no doubt you will have great moments in the years to come for your new team. When you do, I will no doubt smile. But it won't be the same. You're the same person, no doubt, but you're not a Cardinal anymore. It's sort of an arbitrary distinction to root for someone based solely on what company they work for. In any other context I'm sure this would seem foolish. But this sort of thing is encouraged in Major League Baseball, so I guess that's reason enough for me to justify the difference.
Anyway, I've digressed. I was writing to wish you luck. You've always seemed like such a classy player and a good guy. I wish you nothing but the best.
Take care,
joe
I have written you here before. Twice in fact. Both times I wrote you concerning your impending contract negotiations with my favorite team, the St. Louis Cardinals. And as you probably guessed, I'm writing you now with the knowledge that you have taken a monster contract to play for the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim.
Many people are disappointed in your decision, and I count myself among them, but for different reasons than I've seen expressed. Many people consider this action an act of betrayal or other such notions. I do not consider this anything like that. I understand you are a businessman. I understand you have to do what is best for yourself and your family, and I do not hold that against you.
Instead, I think my disappointment comes from knowing you'll hit your 500th homerun and 3,000th hit with someone else. It's disappointing that I will no longer root for you in the same way. Don't get me wrong, I don't wish you ill (though if you had signed with the Cubs, this may not have been true). But, I don't expect I will feel as connected to your success as I did before. So many moments I lived vicariously through you. That night you destroyed Brad Ligde. That was one of the greatest playoff baseball moments of my life. I sat there angrily watching that game, cursing Roger Clemens and the Astros. I was so angry that they were going to advance to the World Series, mostly because I really dislike Roger Clemens. And just as I was about to accept defeat and start thinking about next year, with the quickest flick of the bat, you changed everything. We were alive again. We were alive and there would be another fight.
A fight, it turns out, we wouldn't win. But that was all right with me, because I had that moment.
And I have no doubt you will have great moments in the years to come for your new team. When you do, I will no doubt smile. But it won't be the same. You're the same person, no doubt, but you're not a Cardinal anymore. It's sort of an arbitrary distinction to root for someone based solely on what company they work for. In any other context I'm sure this would seem foolish. But this sort of thing is encouraged in Major League Baseball, so I guess that's reason enough for me to justify the difference.
Anyway, I've digressed. I was writing to wish you luck. You've always seemed like such a classy player and a good guy. I wish you nothing but the best.
Take care,
joe
Thursday, December 1, 2011
A duty to one's self.
Well. My Grandmother died. She was 95 and had been in declining health for a number of years, so while it's sad, I'm mostly happy as I think about the great many years I got to know her.
But. It wouldn't be my family if there was not drama developing around this. And being my family, we've got drama coming at you in two different ways. Drama over-achievers? Quite possibly.
The grandmother here is my dad's mother. And as most of you know, my mother and father divorced about 5 or so years ago. It has not been an amicable divorce, and I've had feelings of confusion and anger in dealing with both parents. I think my relationship with my mother is good. My relationship with my father is less good, but probably the best it's gonna be.
Drama #1: Before the divorce, my mother and my grandmother were pretty good friends. Even after the divorce, my mom visited my grandmother in her nursing home on occasion. So, naturally, my mother would like to go to the funeral.* Which, I don't think should be a big deal. So, she's going to drive up with my brother on Saturday, and apparently she's going to sit in the back and try to not get in the way. But. She and my brother don't want to tell my father she's coming.
And while I think my father shouldn't react poorly to this, I think there's a distinct possibility he will. Or that his woman-friend will. And who knows how my mother would react to that? Not me.
I mean, yes, this is a funeral, so everyone should have their adult-pants and not be argumentative or what-not. But, this is a funeral and emotions could be running high. So, who knows? This will be the first time my parents will be in the same room for nearly 6 years, when they were in the same courtroom finalizing the divorce. And while my Dad repeatedly said he want to be friends at that point, I do wonder about the sincerity of that. And whether there was a self-serving motive for those statements.
Anyway. I've told my brother and mother that it might be wise to give Dad a heads-up, because hey, it's his mother's funeral and maybe we shouldn't give him too many surprises. But they don't seem to want to do that. So. Yeah. I'm trying to stay out of the middle of this, but man it's not easy.
Drama #2: I can't go to the funeral. It's too close to finals, and the way a couple of these classes feel, I want to have every chance I can to get the material down. I told my father last night, and he sounded understanding, but I know he's disappointed. And I kind of feel bad. Because that's what I do.
But what underlies both of these dramas is what do I owe to my parents. Do I owe it to my mom to not tell my dad? Do I owe it to my dad to tell him? Do I owe it to him to go to the funeral?
The answer I've come to is that I owe it to myself to do what I think is best for me. It's been 6 years and this whole divorce drama is tiresome and fruitless. And I'm not going to get anything out of it. I've got a wife now. I'm going to have a family of my own. And the longer I drag around in all of this, the more damage I'm going to do to myself. And the harder it is going to be for me to fix that.
I know I won't be able to be completely kept out of all of this, but I'm gonna do my best.
*Note 1. I think it bears mentioning that my mother could not attend her own mother's funeral when she died about 17 years ago. My mom had just had open-heart surgery, and so couldn't travel. I can't imagine what not going to your own mother's funeral feels like.
But. It wouldn't be my family if there was not drama developing around this. And being my family, we've got drama coming at you in two different ways. Drama over-achievers? Quite possibly.
The grandmother here is my dad's mother. And as most of you know, my mother and father divorced about 5 or so years ago. It has not been an amicable divorce, and I've had feelings of confusion and anger in dealing with both parents. I think my relationship with my mother is good. My relationship with my father is less good, but probably the best it's gonna be.
Drama #1: Before the divorce, my mother and my grandmother were pretty good friends. Even after the divorce, my mom visited my grandmother in her nursing home on occasion. So, naturally, my mother would like to go to the funeral.* Which, I don't think should be a big deal. So, she's going to drive up with my brother on Saturday, and apparently she's going to sit in the back and try to not get in the way. But. She and my brother don't want to tell my father she's coming.
And while I think my father shouldn't react poorly to this, I think there's a distinct possibility he will. Or that his woman-friend will. And who knows how my mother would react to that? Not me.
I mean, yes, this is a funeral, so everyone should have their adult-pants and not be argumentative or what-not. But, this is a funeral and emotions could be running high. So, who knows? This will be the first time my parents will be in the same room for nearly 6 years, when they were in the same courtroom finalizing the divorce. And while my Dad repeatedly said he want to be friends at that point, I do wonder about the sincerity of that. And whether there was a self-serving motive for those statements.
Anyway. I've told my brother and mother that it might be wise to give Dad a heads-up, because hey, it's his mother's funeral and maybe we shouldn't give him too many surprises. But they don't seem to want to do that. So. Yeah. I'm trying to stay out of the middle of this, but man it's not easy.
Drama #2: I can't go to the funeral. It's too close to finals, and the way a couple of these classes feel, I want to have every chance I can to get the material down. I told my father last night, and he sounded understanding, but I know he's disappointed. And I kind of feel bad. Because that's what I do.
But what underlies both of these dramas is what do I owe to my parents. Do I owe it to my mom to not tell my dad? Do I owe it to my dad to tell him? Do I owe it to him to go to the funeral?
The answer I've come to is that I owe it to myself to do what I think is best for me. It's been 6 years and this whole divorce drama is tiresome and fruitless. And I'm not going to get anything out of it. I've got a wife now. I'm going to have a family of my own. And the longer I drag around in all of this, the more damage I'm going to do to myself. And the harder it is going to be for me to fix that.
I know I won't be able to be completely kept out of all of this, but I'm gonna do my best.
*Note 1. I think it bears mentioning that my mother could not attend her own mother's funeral when she died about 17 years ago. My mom had just had open-heart surgery, and so couldn't travel. I can't imagine what not going to your own mother's funeral feels like.
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