We all know the free agency market for pitchers is thin, and teams will be tripping over each other to secure your services. You’re probably reading this, eating crab shipped fresh from Baltimore, chasing it with some fresh-pressed Florida orange juice, stretched out on a blanket made of actual Chicago-area cub fur (or maybe it’s actual Chicago Cub. They need to get some value out of Heyward’s contract one way or another.). And I am too poor to even conceive of what the Yankees or Dodgers might be able to do. Maybe you’re reading these words stretched on a hammock at Francis Ford Coppola’s private island in Belize, except the island is also on a spaceship and there’s like, I don’t know, some kind of fruit I’ve never heard of?
An Open Letter to Tyson Ross
