Dear Mr. Beckett,
I am 8 years old and you are my favorite baseball player. I love the way you look all serious all the time and throw the ball really hard to get the guys on the other teams out. The beard on your chin is really cool, too. I hope someday I can grow one just like you. If I can’t, I’ll probably just cut a piece off my black teddy bear and Krazy Glue it to my chin. Maybe I’ll do that for Halloween.
My dad told me that you’re not really always mad, even though you look like you’re mad a lot. He said it’s just an act and you’re probably a really nice guy who just acts mad so the hitters will be scared to step in and face you, and I told my dad I thought that was awesome.
Anyways, I saw on TV the other day that you were hurt and couldn’t pitch a game but you went and played golf the next day anyway and people like my dad said you probably shouldn’t have done that, but I think it’s OK.
I mean, you deserve to have tons of fun every single day that you’re not playing baseball or that you’re not taking the four days off between each of your starts, since you only pitch every fifth day. And I know that you basically have a vacation from either late September or sometime in October until the middle of February every year, but it’s cold during those months, so I’m sure it’s not as easy for you to get out on the golf course and really have fun doing that, which you deserve, since you’re such a good pitcher and probably a really good guy. I didn’t explain all this to my dad because he seemed to have made up his mind already, but I’m telling you because you’re my favorite player.
Unlike my dad, who all of a sudden got really mad when they mentioned you on the news the other night, I think it’s OK that you make $15.75 million a year. When my dad saw you on the news, he said it’s a crime that you make all that money while good, honest, hard-working people like him and my mother don’t even make in 10 years combined what you probably make in one or two starts. I thought that was crazy, but my dad told me it was true. He’s a teacher of special-needs kids, by the way. My mom works in the cancer ward at the hospital in my town.
So I guess I’m not really getting to my point here, but that’s about it. I just wanted you to know that you’re my favorite player and if you could sign an autograph for me, I’d be soooooo excited. I’m enclosing your baseball card and would love it if you could sign it for one of your biggest fans.
I’ll understand if you don’t want to do it, though. I know you’re busy.
Tommy Dinard Jr.
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