Page 90 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
“Hey,” he says. “I read Seb’s tweets last night. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that. I had no idea. I don’t think most people did. I hope things get better for you.”
“Uh, thanks,” I say, squinting my eyes as he walks away.
I pull out my phone to look at Twitter. Seb didn’t tell me he posted anything. I’m thinking it must have been his social media coordinator until I start reading the thread.
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Twitter @realsebmiller
(November 4, 2022)
Last night at the game, a man threw a beer in my wife’s face. He screamed that she was the reason Miami was losing. I’ve never been angrier in my life.
The man who threw the beer was echoing what’s been going around the entire week. Is my wife distracting me from playing my best? I’m distracted and I haven’t played my best because of it, but my wife is not responsible.
Let me repeat that. My wife is not distracting me. Do you want to know who is? The man who followed her to her car in a dark parking lot a few weeks ago to ask her for my autograph. He distracts me.
And how about the man who pulled her out of her seat and grabbed her while she was watching me play in June? If someone did that to your wife or daughter or mother, would you be distracted? Damn straight you would. I was too.
Do you need more examples? How about the men and women who yell obscene things at her when she walks to her seat to watch her husband play baseball. They really distract me.
The social media idiots who hide behind their keyboards to smack talk my wife. They distract me. And the media who writes bullshit stories about how my wife is a distraction. They distract me too.
The only thing my wife does is love me better than I’ve ever been loved—way better than I probably deserve to be loved. And how do I repay her? I expose her to this world where everyone blames her for my mistakes.
God, it’s just baseball. I love this game, but is it so important to you that you’re willing to destroy a person’s life? If it is, I don’t know what to tell you. You need help, man. It’s just a game. Maybe examine your priorities a little bit.
All I want to do is play baseball and go home to my wife at night. That’s not too much to ask. Thanks to the fans who just want me to do that too. I know there are more of you out there than the idiots.
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