An Open Letter to Ken Macha

Dear Asshole,

I hate you.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

I hate you because you're so fucking retarded. I hate you because you think Huston Street is Billy Koch. I hate you because Adam Melhuse only has 7 ABs this year (in which he has gotten 4 hits). I hate you because you DH'd Jay Payton and let Mark Kotsay play on that grass-colored concrete in Minnesota.

I hate you because you smell like pee.

I hate you because you somehow manage to leave your starters in too long AND over-use your bullpen. Really think about that one because it takes a real moron to pull that off.

I hate you because 50% of Huston Street's total innings pitched have come in the last three days. I hate you because one of the best pitching staffs in the league has a combined ERA of 5.26. Five. Point. Two. Six.

I hate you because you signed Esteban Loiaza.

I hate you because you didn't get that joke.

I hate you because you came crawling back for your job last October. I hate you because only Eric Chavez had more plate appearances than Jason Kendall last year. I hate you because you trotted out Scott Hatteberg day after fucking day last season. I hate you because in the three years under your "management", lefty specialist Ricardo Rincon faced as many right-handed batters as he did lefties. I hate you because the players like you. I wish they hated you too.

I hate you because I'm smarter than you. You took Calculus? I took Calculus III, motherfucker.

I hate you because Eric Byrnes didn't touch home plate. I hate you because Miguel Tejada stopped running. I hate you because you pinch hit for Dye. I hate you because Tim Hudson got into a bar fight. I hate you because you started Mark Mulder in the most important game of the year. I hate you because you hired Chris Speier as your bench coach.

When I'm watching the NFL draft and you're not, I'm still going to hate you.

Because of you, I now hate gum. And I really used to like gum. Because of you, I now hate Billy Beane. And I really used to like Billy Beane.

I hate you because your the manager of my favorite team.

I hate you because you have ruined the game that I love so much.

I will always hate you,
Roman
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