At Least He Didn't Go To Texas...

For the better part of this off-season my friends and I have been anxiously watching ESPN, MLB Network, our phones, the internet, each other....for any sign of where free agent slugger Prince Fielder will land. Hoping against hope, wishing against wish that the destination would rhyme with Schmeattle.

I write this next part reluctantly and most regrettably; Prince Fielder is now a Detroit Tiger. For the low low price of nine years and 214 million dollars, the Tigers have locked up Fielder until 2020, when I presume hovering cars will exist.

Evidently last week when the Tigers DH (Victor Martinez) was training he tore his ACL, opening the door for them to sign the Prince and in turn tear the beating heart out of this Seattle fan's chest.

And now, in the only way I know how to deal with tragedies such as this, I will write an ultimately rhetorical letter to one Prince Fielder (who I assume reads this blog regularly).
As I'm sure you've assumed, this letter will be appropriately accompanied by the vocal stylings of Adele.
                                                                Play the following as you read.

                                              Also, it couldn't hurt to read the letter in a Boston accent,
                                                                                 just seems cooler that way...

Prince Agamemnon Fielder (I took a shot at your middle name...warm or cold?),

You could have been something Prince, something pretty special. There's people in this town that cared about you pal, that thought you were gonna change things, thought you were gonna be somebody.

People said Safeco Field was too big for you? Said you weren't going to have the offensive output in such a large park? Nothing's too big for you, and, as a statement of fact, Safeco was built with George Kenneth Griffey Jr. in mind, a left handed power hitter not unlike yourself. Hence the placement of one, "Hit it Here Cafe" in right field, that, unlike this letter, is not a rhetorical sentiment. They do in fact want you to hit it directly into the cafe.

Additionally, one Russel Branyan had no difficulty hitting monstrous shots out of our "mammoth" park, and as you were hitting home runs out of Tiger Stadium as a nine year old, I can only assume you would have a similar output.

But you're a Tiger now huh? Following in your fathers footsteps huh?

Well in a final sentence defined by its use of commas, sarcasm, and flat out lies, I wish you nothing but the best in Detroit sir, I'm sure there are no foreseeable downsides to being the richest man in the most dangerous city in America, may your career not be plagued by injuries, unfortunately timed swarms of bees, allergic reactions to foods you normally love, and/or the random malfunctioning of all of your electronics.

Sincerely and without a tone,

A Mariners Fan

Final Thought(s) -
What is the actual point of stations like ESPN and MLB Network? I was under the impression, perhaps misguidedly, that they had actual information, not that they were simply sitting around the table shooting out hypotheticals. I do that on my own with friends.

Additionally, unless he has actual insight, I could go my entire day without hearing what mullet enthusiast Mitch Williams has to say on the topic.