Dear Offseason: an open letter

The Emptiness of my Soul. (photo via wikipedia commons)

Dear Offseason,

You suck. I'm sorry, but it's true. You suck something awful.

In general, I'm a fairly reasonable person. I avoid wild swings of emotion about the little things in life. I take the long view and recognize that not only are the bad times generally temporary, but that how you think about a problem affects how you feel about it. I choose, for the most part, to be a happy person, because life is just more bearable that way.

But there comes a time when a person has to let go and just talk about their feelings.

And Offseason? You suck. You truly do. Screw you, Offseason.

And while we're at it, screw you too, Losing, This is all your fault anyway. If it weren't for you, Offseason wouldn't be hanging around right now, and I'd like it a whole lot better when it did finally get here. I hate you, Losing. I hate you in ways that you cannot imagine. You suck, too.

Yes, screw you, Offseason. Screw you and all your stupid friends.

Screw exit interviews and locker cleanouts. Screw final media availability. Screw injury disclosures. Screw player reviews and year-end grades and all the other crap the media does to tie up a year. I hate you all.

Draft lottery? Really?! That's what you have for me? Prospect rankings? Screw the draft lottery. How the hell am I supposed to survive on that? Free agency? Did you just say "free agency"?! You've got to be kidding me. And as far as losing players I've spent the last six months learning to love? Just screw that, too.

You don't get it. I don't want to see clean-shaven players. I don't want to hear about fishing and golf trips. Not even the ones with bears. I want games. And not those "well-at-least-so-and-so-is-miserable-too" kinds of games, either. Real ones. Ones that mean something. Ones with my boys.

Offseason, I have had enough. I am putting my foot down. Every year, you show up with all your stuff and just park yourself in my life. Living with you is like living through adolescence again. You are boring; you are annoying; and you are the world's worst drama queen. You gossip worse than the PTO at my kids' school. I have had it with your conspiracy theories, and your CBA negotiations, and your arbitration, and your contract holdouts.

I hate you, Offseason. I hate you with a passion. I want you and your buddy Losing out of this house right now.

And you'd better believe I'm changing the locks.

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