Hi. How's it going? It's been a while since my last letter, but this one might be the last.
Sorry, friend, that sounded more morbid than it had to be. Kind of reflects my mood, though, since the trade. I can't believe $tu did this to you. To us, even.
How could he? You were the best player to ever play for the Rays, and everyone knew that would be the case from day 1 back in 2008. Ten years. Evan, this is the longest relationship I've (you've?) ever been a part of, and that's part of what makes this so hard.
We barely knew each other when you took the team on its first trip through the playoffs, all the way to the World Series. Fucking Phillies. As we got to know each other more over the next few years, I didn't realize anything would be more exciting than winning the pennant, but you showed me how wrong I was. Thank you.
In 2011, Game 162 was the single most exciting and euphoric night of sports I have ever experienced. Danjo helped, but you created 162 Landing with that homerun. You were supposed to keep hitting them out there until you retired. But now you can't.
Because you're gone to San Francisco now. Because $tu wanted to save a buck. Because yours was the biggest contract he could relieve him of. Because greed. I know it's not your fault. I would never blame you, lover.
Let's be honest, though. We both know you're not the same player you used to be when you were competing for MVP awards annually. But that never got in the way of my love for you. You were the one constant in my life for the past decade. I don't know how to replace you. I don't know if I can, and I feel lost now without you.
What am I supposed to do without you standing there, waiting for me at 3rd base every time I turned on the game? There will be another player there now. The uniform will be the same, with the same logo, same cap, maybe even the same number (gods help the FO if that happens), but it won't have the same feeling. All players are eventually replaced on the field, but you can't be replaced in my heart.
It's so hard to say goodbye to you, but I've rambled for long enough. Sorry, I keep going so that this doesn't have to end, but alas, it must.
You'll probably meet new friends in San Francisco and forget about me, but I'll always remember you. I wish I could go with you, but I'm too weak to leave the Rays. Maybe that guilt will go away eventually. Sorry, I was supposed to stop going on.
I already miss you. Perhaps our paths will cross again, in this life or another, but even if not, I'll never stop loving you.
With more love than I knew I could give,