An Open Letter to Scott Podsednik:
Well, it looks like the White Sox playoff chances are now about as likely as you reaching your stolen base stats of last year. Even the Sox's biggest optimist (me) admits it's over. We're on the outside looking in. Four games behind with thirteen games to go, we'd have to come up nearly perfect in order to win the wild card. The chances of that are not good. As much as coming up big in the important moments was last year's credo, being unable to grasp open opportinites is this year's. We just haven't played well and we've backed ourselves in a corner.
Speaking of not playing well, Scotty, you are the target of much criticism. Most Sox fans are itching to run you out of town. And yes, you won't be back. You just haven't produced. Your base running abilities have disappeared, you're a lead off man who can't get on base, and you've missed plays in the outfield that should be made. Sure, you had a great game yesterday (except for another caught-stealing), but it's just too little too late. You were my favorite player. You still have a place in my heart. But even I must admit that you're not consistently helping the team. You're not the S-Pods you were last year in leading us to that World Series Championship.
And this, Scotty, is where I have to take the blame. I know, I know. You're thinking, But Todd, how could it be your fault? I am the one striking out four times in one game. But let me tell you what I did. Over the off-season, I got your jersey. This seems innocent. But it's not. Let me explain.
I've owned three players' jerseys in my life. When I was in high school, I started following the Buffalo Bills. I just loved quarterback Jim Kelly. I bought his jersey. I wore it all the time. But just a few months after I bought it, the Bills went to the Super Bowl for the first time. And we know what happened. They preceded to lose 4 Super Bowls in a row.
A few years ago, I was again a fan of a quarterback who wore the number 12. Rich Gannon of the Raiders. He was a gun-slinging quarterback who lent huge numbers to my fantasy team. As the Raiders entered the playoffs, I showed my support by buying a Rich Gannon jersey. They were massacred in the Super Bowl and Gannon's career, for all intents and purposes, ended there.
And then I got a #22 Scott Podsednik jersey. Luckily I didn't get it until last Christmas--after you helped us when the World Series or else the Astros really would have had a championship season. But still, damage was done to your career. And I am sorry.
But now, enjoy your last few days as a White Sox. And maybe, just maybe, this admission will be an exorcism that will bring you back to life. And magic can happen again. But yah, probably not. At least I'll always have your bobblehead to remind me of the good times we had.
PTOIT Special Feature: Dream Log
My sister is getting married to a kid she grew up with. They aren't dating (in or out of the dream) but just decided to get married. They are 16. When I ask her why she wants to marry him, she says, "I just wanted someone to sit with at lunch."
The ceremony is at my parent's church. For the reception, we all go to a small pond nearby. And fish. I catch a giant lizard. It won't come off the hook, so I cut it in half. The front half runs all the way back to the church. I chase it and watch it regenerate it's back half as it runs into the church. I go in to find it.
Inside, my grandparents are still in the church pew. They are wearing St. Louis Cardinal uniforms. When I ask them why, they say, "Because your Aunt Donna gave them to us."