A (Last?) Love Letter, from Livan Hernandez

My dearest Minnesota,

My heart, she is broken, shatter-ed, smash-ed, hurt. I still love you, but is it true dat you no longer are loving me? 

I am no more welcome at de dome. My pina colada mixes, dey have been removed from de team refrigerator. My hammock--she--she--she is gone! Gone like de hair dat once blew back from my head! Gone like de abs I once flexed for my loves! Gone like de wind...wit de wind!! Gogo, he say something about catching de crab wit my hammock...but dat is not what my hammock is for...my hammock is for cradling my behind, lulling me to happy sleepy times, so when I pitch, I am thinking de happy thoughts.

What will be come of Livan is no important. Livan is strong, so de hurt, it will pass, de pain, she goes away, de pina coladas, dey will be made again. What is important is what happens to you my lovel-lies! Francisco? Will he be as loving to you as I have been? My leetle boys: Slowey, Perkie,  Blackie, Baker---ie? Who will tell dem dat it does no matter if you win or lose, but how you play de game, and how well you make de pina coladas! Who will teach de Twins coaches how to speak de spanish to Loco Gogo? Is dere no hope? Can I no become assistant assistant pitching coach? Do de Twins have an internship program I can apply to? Will Gardy de happy gnome be my reference?

Craigers, he thinks I am living in de past. He says I must live in de now, and let de things I love go free, and try some of his Acorn smoothie, he has a point (but not about de acorn smoothie...is icky-poo...believe me...Craigers, he is going crazy). You will be okay...and I will be okay...but please...oh please...oh pretty pretty pretty please with de pink 'prinkles on top...

Can we still be friends?


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