Dear Mr. Stanton, you have been given an incredible second chance at redemption

Dear Giancarlo, 

I say "Giancarlo," because if I shortened it to just "Gio," everyone would think I was addressing Gio Urshela, See what happens when you leave? As novelist John Irving once wrote:

When the dear disappear/
Someone else is always near.

I'm writing because, according to the fake news Interthing, you will return to the Death Star Tuesday, when the Los Angeles California Angels of Anaheim - (minus the Japanese Babe Ruth) - come to Gotham City. Starting Tuesday, you will get 11 games to show the Yankiverse that you deserve to swing a bat in October. Yep, the notorious, elusive eleven-game season. That's maybe 50 plate appearances, and 20 defensive chances in left field. It does not even qualify as a "small sample size." It's more like a one-off experiment, where you attach the electrodes, crank it up full blast, and see what happens. We might as well dip you in CBD oil or drench you in gamma rays. Why not?  

Moreover, let's say the first game shouldn't even count. You could pull a platinum sombrero - five k's - and we'll chalk it off to rust. So it's a 10-game season.  

For a guy who has suffered an injury-plagued year, you should thank your lucky stars for the next two weeks. You have been granted an amazing chance at redemption, the kind few players ever receive.

Wanna know somebody who is unlucky? Mike Tauchman played his heart out, filled your vacancy, won over the fans, and he'll miss the playoffs. Or Edwin Encarnacion, who returned from a broken wrist to go on a hitting tear, and who  may end up sitting out October. Or Gary Sanchez, who rehabilitated his catching career, but who might miss it. Or whomever the next injured Yankee will be. It's hard to imagine 11 games with nobody getting hurt. 

But but BUT... here's my offer, and I believe I speak for the entire Yankiverse in extending it: 

If you go on a hitting spree, if you help lead the 2019 Yankees to a world championship, all shall be forgiven. 

That's right. Incredible as it sounds, all you need to do in the next 11 games - and then the following month - is hit. 

Just hit. That's all. You don't need to man left field. You can DH. Just hit. Just hit like you did two years ago in Miami. Or like you did last August, when you carried us in the wake of Aaron Judge's broken wrist. Just hit. That's all. Hit, and all will be forgiven.

You're getting the kind of chance that Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera did not receive at the ends of their careers. You're getting a shot at center stage in the post-season. The world will watch your every swing, and all you need to do is hit. Just hit, and you will cement your name into Yankee history. The plaque at Monument Park. The retired number. Full ownership of the name "Gio." All yours. Just hit. 

Not that you should feel any pressure...