dear sweet merciful baby jesus,

please let the ugly slump that has poisoned the entire yankee roster (except for maybe gary sheffield, but considering what he accomplishes all battered and bruised, i'm not entirely sure you have sovereignty over him anyway) end soon. i'm not the type of fan that has unreasonable expectations, but since that last game in seattle, things are rapidly becoming painful. i even promise never to have impure daydreams about arod, jeets and champagne-flavored body powder ever again.

at least until the offseason.

or maybe the next off day?

well jesus, thanks for listening.

love,
your pal,
lupe