Dear Anyone and Everyone in the Reds Organization

Yesterday was a terrible day. I woke up a little late, missed the empty bus, had to hop on the crowded bus, got to work late. As a result, I was in a pretty bad mood. But at 12:30, the Reds came on with Homer Bailey pitching. Through six innings, my day became better. I even noticed in the hallway window that the sun had come out after a couple of days of rain. But then, your manager did something to change everything. Even though Bailey was at 90 pitches (after pitching 114 last time), he was sent out to start the 7th inning.

Now, anyone with observational skills better than a rock knew what would happen next like a bad mystery novel. Even if Bailey pitched fairly well, there was little chance he would pitch the entire inning. And when Cincinnati relievers come into a game in the middle of an inning, bad things happen. Look it up if you don't believe me. Our relievers fair far better when they start off an inning fresh. When Homer put the first two on, we all knew the lead was lost and with it, Homer's second win. We just didn't know how bad it was going to be until we saw him.

Gary Majewski.

Mr. Majewski, owner of a now sparkling 15.88 ERA, has an opponent batting average over .500. Do I need to look up more stats for you? Yet your manager (he's not my manager) has used him in 5 of the last 7 games. And he put him in the game yesterday with two on an no outs. Then, when he gave up a hit to his first batter, your manager kept him in. Bases loaded, no outs. He proceeded to walk in a run. Did your manager take him out? NO. Soon, the score was 8-5 when it had been 3-5 before the inning began. And poor Homer, who pitched so well, had another two runs attached to his ernie.

Oh, I was so angry. I don't think I've ever felt angry because of a baseball game before - certainly not to this extent. I was so angry I had to get up from my desk, leave my office, exit the building, and walk down the block and get a Coke. I came back to a big, fat 9 where a lead had once been.

The rest of my day ended as it had started, and I was happy to go to bed last night. But when I woke up this morning, I came to the startling realization that the anger was still there, as fresh and fiery as it had been in the seventh inning of yesterday. However, it isn't anger at that game anymore, I've come to understand. This anger is a culmination of six and a half losing seasons, continued incompetence of your manager in using a bullpen and a bench, and something far, far worse. You see, yesterday during the seventh inning, that little box of Pandora's was reopened again, and that last article escaped from it.

Most likely none of you to whom this letter is addressed reads what I write here, but if you do, you might know that I am the positive one. I'm the one who kept saying the season isn't done, they're going to come back, and I provided the evidence to support my claims. However, the fact that the losses continue in the same manner - a pathetic bullpen - and very little is being done about it has eroded my enthusiasm and, as I have stated, aroused such an anger that I am not sure I want to watch any more games.

You could tell me I don't work in baseball, so I don't know, like Wayne told that reporter. But you know what? I saw my first Reds game when I was a year old. I've been a Reds fan since birth. I grew up during the eighties when we finished second place all of those years until the end of that decade finally culminated into that glorious 1990 season, which sadly is approaching the two decade mark. I go to other parks and see other teams celebrating their last World Series wins 25, 30 years on, and I think how pathetic that is, but then I see that big old 17 after Cincy, a franchise with a winning tradition and a team that can be mentioned in the same sentence as the '27 Yankees, and it thoroughly depresses me.

Due to career circumstances, I haven't lived in Ohio since early 2000, the last winning Reds season (if I moved back, would things change?), yet I still attend more Reds games than the average fan. This year, I've seen them twice already - in Pittsburgh, the only place they've played near me so far (and by near, I mean a 4 hour drive). I have tickets for six more games this season and will probably make it to a couple more. Since 2000, I've seen the Reds play in Chicago, Cleveland, San Francisco, San Diego, New York, Philly, and here in DC every single game they've played at RFK. I also make it back to Cincy once, twice, even three times a season.

So yeah, I do know a thing or two about baseball, as do a lot of fans. People can learn by observation, you know. If you told me that my organization was screwing up by focusing too much on corporate governance and not enough on association building, I'd ask you for the evidence, and if it showed you were probably right, I'd agree with you, so I can say such things about your organization. I'm still a little miffed that Wayne had the gall to tell someone he didn't know because he didn't work in baseball, even if that someone was an annoying reporter. I think as a fan we have a right to demand a quality product. After all, without us, there is no such thing as Major League Baseball.

So are you going to continue to keep Gary Majewski on a Major League roster? Are you going to continue to let your manager use Mike Stanton in important situations? Are you going to keep said manager in the dugout? If I screwed up as much at my job, I'd be fired.

You know, even through my anger right now, even as I sit here typing a letter that its addressees won't read, I can't help but think that I may have caught the tail end of that last little article escaping from that box in my heart, that it is struggling to wriggle itself away. I still can't make myself give up and let go of this season, because I still believe you aren't just going to sit there and do nothing. Milwaukee is only six games over .500. All it takes is one good win streak to get back into this race. But I can't say that much longer - the season's about half over.

Being a fan is a funny thing. It's like a bunch of strangers are part of your family just because they wear a particular type of clothing. I can't explain why I have such a fierce attachment to a bunch of guys who play a game for a living, but baseball is like that. It has a lot to do with childhood memories, going to the ballpark with your family, and just the joy of all of the senses coming to life as you escape the problems of the real world for a couple of hours. It's no escape when your heart breaks time and time again.

I will be in Cincinnati to see the Reds play on June 30, July 1, and July 2. I'm really looking forward to it, but at the same time I have to wonder - will those games even matter? Will I have to suffer the heartbreak of another blown win in person? How long do I have to continue to put up with this inferior product? Will I be able to have a good time, to enjoy a few hours of that great game of baseball, to be rewarded for my insane loyalty?

Sincerely,

A lifelong Reds fan
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