Hey mom. Did you happen to see last night’s game? What about Tuesday night’s game? Guess who hit a three run homer? I’ll give you a hint: he recently received a care package from you containing one lime green sweater and a dozen nutfudge brownies.

That’s right! Me!

Mom, it’s like these days have been dipped in magic and rolled in fantastic. I am swinging the bat, and it is meeting the ball. When I connected for that homerun… my god, I felt about five foot eight. I was so giddy, I couldn’t stop pacing around the hotel room that night. It was like that time I had so much licorice and soda that you and dad had to strap me to the bed. You remember that, don’t you? It was just last summer.

I will admit that I went out last night with that Julian fella. The one you told me to avoid. But it turns out he’s quite gregarious, mom, and we had a great time on the town. He even gave me a burlap sack to put over my head while he engaged a prostitute.

Happy Mother’s Day. Kisses and snugs.


Dustin

* * * * * * * * * *

Hey, Ma! Happy f–king mother’s day, you old f–k. Christ, I miss your withered, damaged ass.

F–k!


Brendan

* * * * * * * * * *

Mom:

I came over to mow your lawn while you were out at bingo last night. Sadly, I injured my arm starting up the mower, then tripped over it as I tried to walk away and threw out my back. I am out here in your backyard, on the ground, hoping that you’ll find me before the wild coyotes do. Please assist.

Needily yours,


Matty.

* * * * * * * * * *

Last night, I was attacked by a yak. I broke its neck, cleaned it out, and spent the night drinking cheap whiskey out of its skull.

That was for you, mom.


Michael

* * * * * * * * * *

In other news, I almost started feeling bad for the Toronto Blue Jays last night. Almost. They’ve lost BJ Ryan for the season and Halladay, their ace, has now been lit up twice in a row.

All good news for us, though. When your number four starter has the league’s best ERA, as does Timmay, you can’t complain. Pedroia’s hitting the ball, Manny is shaking off the icicles, Youkilis and Lowell — two guys I feared would be a chain around our ankles at the plate — have become the two most reliable names in the line-up. We’ve got a 7 game lead in the standings, the best record in the AL and the second-best record in all of baseball.

Other than the alarming lack of Hazel Mae ass-shots across the 6.2 hours of programming she appears in each day on NESN, I can honestly say I’ve got nothing to complain about.

Namaste!