Your presence is hereby requested on the afternoon of April 16, 2009.
We need you as starting pitcher on the day the world greets the new Yankee Stadium.
The Yankiverse needs you.
The other starters -- Sabathia, Burnett, Wang, Chamberlain -- may someday be great Yanks. You, however, have already earned that distinction. Therefore, please consider this request.
Sign the frickin' contract.
Frankly, sir, we don’t understand the holdup. The writers say the Yanks made an offer, but it's less than what you seek. We’re not sure what that means. It might just be the regular dickering between agent dicks and management dicks -- and if so, fine. Dicker away! If you get paid more money, great.
But we fear this dispute evolving into something else. Dicks are, after all, dicks.
Sir, you built a career based on projecting higher moral principles than the notion of squeezing quarters from Coke machines. You wrote a book about religion. You've raised a family. You took a tough stand when your friend Roger Clemens became poster boy -- unfairly, we say -- for drug injections. You have a well earned reputation for honesty. Now... wtf? -- it’s about money?
Nope. We don't believe this.
And that's why we worry.
Sir, on April 16, around 2:15 p.m., fifty thousand cameras will simultaneously click, and millions of people will step back to watch a moment that will be inscribed into history and remembered long after each of us is a smudge of dust on the collapsed interior of a pine box.
You belong in that photograph. You were destined to be that face, that imposing figure, that Yankee icon to be chistled into marble.
Get it done. Sign the frickin' contract. Now.
Just so it's understood: We’re not taking sides in a contract dispute. We don’t care. Yeah, it hurt watching the Yanks piss money on Carl Pavano, but if he had come back and pitched us to the World Series last September, no Yankee fan in creation would have complained about the lost years. And no Yankee fan wants you to earn less than you're worth.
But don’t let this fester.
Let the dicks dicker, but don’t let anyone dicker with your head.
Don’t let anyone whisper that you should be getting more, that you're being disrespected, that you should pitch somewhere else, that you should go someplace where you'll be really appreciated.
Your place is on that mound, April 16.
Get it done, sir. You have a date with history.