Dear Mr. Daniels.
I feel weird referring
to you as a mister, being that I’m just over a year and a half older than you.
Nevertheless, I want you to take what I have to say seriously. So here it goes:
Over the last
several weeks, Rangers fans have sat by and watched while their favorite
players or potential future favorites were either signed to lucrative contracts
with other teams or traded. I’m not going to pretend to have any idea what it
is that you and your front office team do behind the scenes on a daily basis to
try and build a winning franchise. You’ve worked some incredible magic over the
last couple of years, and I’m thankful for that.
I’ll be quick to
admit that I fully understand that baseball, first and foremost, is a business.
You, Mr. Ryan, and the rest of the organization are providing a service to
those of us willing to pay for that service. It’s because of that knowledge and
understanding that I’m able to separate the practical business side of baseball
from my love of the game side. You see, as much as I might love the Texas
Rangers, it pales in comparison to my love for the game itself. I’m hoping it’s
your own love for the game that will force you to hear me out.
It’s not often
that both a father and daughter’s hearts are broken by the same people, let
alone broken twice in the same week, but it happened – first with Kacie (my
14-year-old daughter) losing her favorite player in Mike Napoli and then a few
days later with me as Michael Young was traded to the Philadelphia Phillies. I
can’t say the loss was more significant for one of us than the other; we each
have our reasons for why we call someone our favorite, and because of that one
loss doesn't sting less than the other.
I get that Mike
Napoli, despite his post season heroics and being a name that sells a fair
share of merchandise, isn’t somebody who’s statistical history proves worthy of
his $13 million a year asking price. I also get that moving a career Ranger and
$10 million of his $16 million salary clears a significant amount of cash to make
a move on a free-agent like Zack Greinke, despite his opting to sign with the
Los Angeles Dodgers. But now the Anaheim Angels, for the second year in a row,
have swooped in and signed one of our players to a contract he may or may not
be worth, which is beside the point.
Frustrating as
all of this might seem to the casual fan, the lack of fan-based communication
is equally frustrating too. Not everyone is willing or capable to separate
business from fandom, so why not find a way to keep the Ranger faithful abreast
of the comings and goings of their favorite players, but from a front office
perspective? Why not come out and publicly say that Mike Napoli, as much as you
know fans loved him, because of his asking price didn't fit financially into
the puzzle of what you’re trying to build and that by not meeting his salary
demands you were aligning yourself to make a greater push at landing Zack Greinke,
or possibly even resigning Josh Hamilton? Why not come out and say that while
Michael Young has been the consummate team player and the face of the Texas
Rangers for over a decade, the decision - a decision in which there really was
no right answer – had to be made to move the team forward, into the future, rather
than hold onto the past? Why not come out and say that you made every effort
possible to sign Zack Greinke, which included not bringing Napoli back and
trading Young to free up money to sign the free-agent pitcher long-term? Why
not come out and say that while you’re appreciative of what Josh has done as a
member of the Texas Rangers, his asking price was too gaudy for someone who
brings a tremendous amount of drama (both seen and unseen) with him, a history
of injuries, and an inevitable slump each season that seemed harder and harder
for the star centerfielder to dig out of?
Please don’t
think of this as me trying to tell you how to do your job, when what I’m really
asking is what can the organization do with regards to how and what it
communicates with the fans? As fans, we take it on faith that you know what you’re
doing. I'd say that it isn't our business if you're running the team into the ground or not, but it actually is our business. Assuming you’re trying to resurrect the
team from the demise imposed upon it by its former owner and in turn create a winning
organization, why not just come right out and tell us matter-of-factly the
reasons behind some of the decisions that were made? You’re probably thinking “Do
you do that with your kids?” The answer is yes. I try not to take the “Because
I said so” approach with them, but instead offer them legitimate reasons for
the whys and why nots that are made on their behalf. I want my kids to know,
that even though they might not understand or agree with those decisions, those
decisions really are (hopefully) for the best, and that by my telling them
these reasons, they might be able to step back after the shock of it all and
see the bigger picture. That’s what the Texas Rangers are trying to create, isn't it? A bigger picture? A picture that forever stakes their claim in baseball
history?
Now
to my point: I’d like to offer my services to you and the Texas Rangers. Think
of me as your real life connection between the club and the fans. I wouldn’t be
there as someone simply collecting a paycheck, therefore possibly having no
true allegiance to the organization. Instead, in me you’d have a person who, as
mentioned earlier, can separate the business side of baseball from the fan
side. I’d be willing to be your voice, your not-so-typical communication piece
to the masses. I could answer the Facebook and Twitter cries that suggest, in
not-so-nice ways, that you and the organization don’t know what you’re doing. In
fact, I’d be willing to consider quitting my current job and come to work for
you for free. I know, it sounds crazy, but that’s how committed I am to making
this thing between you, me, and the rest of the world work.
My wife doesn’t
know of my plan to come work for you and the Texas Rangers organization yet, so
I’m sure she’s not going to be happy on my making such a life-changing decision
without involving her, so we may have to negotiate leftover hotdogs and nachos
into my contract. Also, I’d like permission to wear my Michael Young jersey or
T-shirts on casual Fridays. He might be gone, but for me he’ll never be
forgotten. Lastly, should my wife kick me out, I may need a place to crash for
a while, so a cot in the clubhouse might be in order. How is your coffee in the
break room? Never mind, we can discuss that stuff later, at a more appropriate
time.
Thank you for
taking the time to hear me out and for considering my offer. I look forward to
hearing from you at your earliest convenience.
Sincerely,
Brad Simmons
herlivingroomhero@gmail.com
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