Saturday, October 13, 2007

A Letter to the Indians

To the Cleveland Indians coach:

Please. For the love of God PLEASE take Perez out of the game. He's upsetting my husband. My husband Tom believes that Perez is giving the Red Sox home runs and is going to cost Cleveland the game. My husband Tom believes he can pitch better. My husband Tom won't shut up and has just woken up my daughter as she was nursing.

Now my daughter is wide awake in her swing, amused by her feet.

My husband Tom is still ranting in the kitchen as I write this. "The best left handed pitcher, my ass," he's saying. "He's going to ruin it for Cleveland. Stupid Perez."

Now he's going to be a pain in the ass for the rest of the night.

So please.

Take Perez out.

NOW.

For my sanity.

Amber

---------------

Yes.

We're currently watching the Indians versus the Red Sox.

I'm bored out of my mind.

I was in the middle of nursing Natalie, he was fast asleep, and then Tom shouts because the Red Sox got a home run.

Followed by another.

He shouted.

He ranted.

Natalie of course stopped eating to figure out what all the commotion was about.

She's still wide awake in her swing.

I asked Tom to be quiet.

He lowers his voice an octave for all of two seconds and then he's back to shouting.

He was in a good mood ten minutes ago. Because the Indians were actually winning.

He jumped off the couch when one got a home run.

Scared me half to death.

Now he's fuming on the couch, muttering under his breath on how much Perez sucks. As if the team has personally insulted him, has personally given two home runs up to spite Tom.

Oh okay.

There we go, Perez has been replaced.

Tom still isn't happy.

"The damage has already been done," he said.

This is why I hate sports.

Sports, as I always say, should come once every four years like the Olympics.

Goodness sakes, Tom is STILL ranting.

Now he's in the kitchen.

He's doing his pacing thing.

He was on the couch.

Now he's in the kitchen.

Wait, there he goes down the hall.

Now he's back on the couch.

He's muttering under his breath about Perez.

Let it GO, Tom.

People take sports way too seriously.

Where did Tom go?

He's back down the hall.

He's back in the kitchen.

Now he's eating chips and dip on the couch.

Natalie is still wide awake in her swing.

*Sighs*

I hate sports.

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