Dear boys,

I don’t know you anymore. The last time we spoke was September of 2011. And it wasn’t good.

It was pretty much the worst breakup I’ve had since the fifth grade when I called my then boyfriend a shit for flirting with some cute blonde at recess. I admit, I overreacted. But I was still learning about relationships – how to have one and recognize a keeper when it’s right in front of you. You know. We all make mistakes.

I am going to be honest. I am not over Tito. He was my first. And second. That meant something to me. I really thought we had a good thing going with those championships. What happened?

I know. I know. We can’t go back. But Bobby Valentine? He gave us the worst season since 1965. I think you can at least give Tito a public apology. And when I say ‘you’ I mean Larry Lucchino. 

But I don’t want to dwell on the past. I am writing you to tell you I think we should talk. Because today I found myself hovering on your url. And I admit it. I checked you out. Then I downloaded the MLB gameday app for my phone. Now we can be together even when we’re apart.

Don’t go getting ahead of yourselves. My mind didn’t even go to October. However, I do think we might have the start of something. If you don’t totally fuck up again. Tonight the sell out streak at Fenway was broken. You clearly have some work to do. And I don’t just mean how Hanrahan totally botched the save.

But it was actually nice to listen to you boys totally go down in flames in the ninth. A friend warned that I shouldn’t get too invested in you. That you would just break my heart again. I say good. That means I at least care.



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