From Grover Cleveland Aexande to Domingo Germán
Wayward Sunday: They gave you that name, Sunday, so that you could enjoy the weekend in a healthy way, not so that you would attack everyone you see when you get drunk, which is almost every day.
I remind you of the name, because my name was Grover Cleveland, because my father was an admirer of President Grover Cleveland, who occupied the White House between 1885 and 1889 and again, from 1893 to 1897.
But they knew me more for being an alcoholic big leaguer than for my two names. However, it never occurred to me, as it is to you now, to attack my teammates, and even less the manager, like you with Aaron Boone, whom I know, because in this Hereafter that you call Beyond, everything is known, that is delivered to his players, and for that they adore him.
It is true that I got drunk almost daily. But instead of fighting with someone, what I would do was hug them all and then I would lie in the clubhouse until they called me if I was going to pitch.
That’s how I did my 20-year career until 1930 and I was elevated to the Hall of Fame in 1938, with 212 votes out of 262 voters that year. Well, I won 373 games, lost 208, and posted a 2.56 ERA.
Now you, who have more hobbies as a boxer than as a Major League pitcher, you still throw a perfect game, as you actually did, than you put together a mess in the clubhouse, because you get to the top of your head with Dominican rum.
What a waste of baseball skills! You just turned 31 on Friday, so you should already know how delicate the responsibilities of a big leaguer are.
You’ve been in the majors for six years now, and all with the Yankees. Most of us ballplayers consider someone who plays with that team lucky. It seems you don’t. You seem rather stubborn for wearing the striped uniform.
You should be happy that you’ve always been a Yankee and have a positive record, 31-28, 4.41 and 543 strikeouts in 522 innings pitched. You’re supposed to have another nine or 10 years of good pitching in your arm. In other words, to enjoy life, but in that quarrelsome plan, you’re having a very bad time and you’ll get worse if you don’t change.
Now you are suspended by your own team, what a disgrace! And in the Bronx they can’t stand you. It is strange, very strange, that one is considered a nuisance in his own clubhouse, even when he has shot a perfect game. But the alcoholic reactions of those who don’t know how to drink liquor can do anything, even the incredible, the unheard of.
Of course, I wish you the best of luck, you need it, because you are worth a lot, but you have not found out. A shame!…
Hugs Grover.
2023-08-07 10:05:00
#letter #arrives
