Letters to Nomar Dear Nomar, I woke up late last night. The room was dark. I thought I heard the crack of your bat. I looked outside. My street was calm and empty. A lonely streetlight shone like a beacon. I sat on the edge of my bed. My mind was racing. I looked at the clock, it was 3:23 AM. I couldn’t think straight. I went to the fridge. While reaching for a glass, I noticed that my hands were shaking. I put the glass back and balled up on the floor. It was then that the crying started. Years of pain poured out in violent spurts. I wailed and rocked and cried and screamed. My landlord lives below me. She started pounding on the door. "Go away!" I shouted, in a hoarse voice, between sobs. "Just go away! I want to talk to Nomar, I want to talk to Nomar...." She quietly crept away. That old maiden’s lived long enough to know there’s nothing worse than a crying man whose only hope is a shortstop for the Red Sox. — The Nightman Dear Nightman: AB R H BI BB SO HR 3B 2B — Nomar Dear Nomar: I didn’t know where to turn for help. You see, my daughter is 11 and she is in trouble with the guys who run the Big Dig. I know, I know, you’re thinking, ‘How could my 11 year old daughter be in trouble with the Big Dig?’ Well, Nomar, let me tell you: John, he’s my husband, had wanted to do something for the kids this past weekend so he threw his arms up and shouted, "Kids, it’s time for some Faneuil Market fun! Who wants to get some stylized fast food and smell the candles at Yankee Candle? I can’t hear you?" Oh, Nomar, John is such a big old goof, but I love him. He’s so good to the kids. So, anyway, as I was saying, we had decided to take the kids to Fanueil Hall. They love the sights and smells and action. It’s the closest thing we have to a pre-depression shopping bazaar!! So, anyhoot! I’m sorry, Nomar, I’m not telling you what my problem is...well, my daughter, Lisa, disappeared. We were frantic! Our small little Lisa, lost!!! In the madness of the Hall, no less!!! We placed calls to the police and they immediately started looking for her. Well, we found her almost seven hours later. Oh my gosh! We were so scared but so happy to have her back! Little did we know that real trouble was just about to begin! You see, little Lisa has a special power. She has the ability to turn skilled manual laborers in to cranky old college professors that have only two things on their minds: gettin’ paid and gettin’ laid! So, as it turns out, Lisa wandered down to the Big Dig, saw the construction and turned the workers into horny old college professors! Now, the Big Dig is a big tank! There is no way it will get finished. And we are being sued for $7.8 billion, which is roughly the cost of the 6 months it will take to retrain the cranky old college professors. Nomar, you have a way with the common person. Please help us! What should we do? — Concerned Parent in Concord Dear Concerned in Concord: AB R H BI BB SO HR 3B 2B 5 2 3 3 0 1 1 0 1 — Nomar |
