An open letter to the MLB players union

I am a rabid baseball fan, to say the least.

I absorbed this love at the knee of my maternal grandfather. My Daddy encouraged it.

One of my uncles was in the stands when Hank Aaron, also known in this household as The Only Man I'll Ever Love, broke Babe Ruth's home-run record.

I stood by the Braves all through my youth when they were regularly finishing last in the League; I soared to 14 straight Pennants and one World Series Championship with them. (And I am apparently in for another dry spell going forward.)

I watched George W. Bush throw out that first pitch at Yankee Stadium after September 11th with tears streaming down my cheeks and so much pride in my heart and such love for my country that I almost passed out in my own living room. American courage, defiance and pride were defined that evening on a baseball diamond, and there was no more perfect place for such a display.

I stayed with your spoiled asses when you went on strike; I defended your cheating asses through the Steroid Era.....but if you fuckers call a boycott on the All-Star game in Arizona because of the immigration law that was just passed, I am DONE with you.