There was a mixup at the post office this past week and all the letters that the Cubs sent to Santa this year ended up at my house. Don't worry, I forwarded them all to the North Pole in plenty of time for Santa to read them before Christmas Eve. But I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't tell you what they all wished for.
Here's the first one:
I hope everything at the North Pole is good. Things at Wrigley Field are good too, no matter what the other children may tell you. Theo and I are like your elves, working hard all year long to bring happiness and joy to Cubs fans. But we haven't been doing this as long as you have and we're still in beta mode. There are a lot of bugs to work out right now.
In truth, you got me everything I wanted last year. Although that Edwin Jackson you got me last year isn't as much fun as it looked like on the commercial. That happens with gifts sometimes.
So if you could, just bring patience to Cubs fans throughout the world. That's all I want for Christmas.
But if you could bring me a Masahiro Tanaka, I wouldn't complain.
How are you? I am good. I am moving from San Diego to Chicago, so I would like a winter jacket, gloves and a hat. I know in the past I've asked you to bring me everything in tacky brown and mustard colors, but you don't have to do that anymore. Blue is fine.
What I really want for Christmas is a third baseman. And maybe a center fielder. One that could hit leadoff would be nice. I might need a left fielder too. Also a closer. And if you bring one more starting pitcher, I could complete my collection.
I'll tell you what. Just bring me one of everything.
I have been very good this year, at least that's what people tell me. At least most of the time. Some days I've been pretty bad, but on most days I've been good. That should count for something.
In any case, everyone tells me I'm going to be very good in 2014. So just bring me stuff in anticipation of that.
I don't know what I want, but I can tell you what I don't want. I don't want what Theo keeps trying to give me. So don't bring me that. I'm sure in two years you'll bring me something really awesome if I just wait.
So I tell you what. Just bring me what you brought Zack Greinke last Christmas. Otherwise, you can just forget it.
I'm not going to lie. I've been naughty this year. Really naughty. I don't want to go into it, because I do feel bad about it. But I was not a good kid.
But I have been very good in past years, so if you could overlook this past year and bring me something nice, I'd appreciate it. Besides, you're going to be bringing me presents every year until 2019 and there's no point in you and I getting off on the wrong foot, right? So you hold up your end of the bargain and I'll try to hold up mine.
Do they make those blinders that they use on race horses for people? If so, I'd like a pair of those. I also want a Blu-ray copy of the Cubs 2013 highlights, so I can burn them in the fireplace. The DVD format would be OK too.
Every year it's the same thing. I get all excited for Christmas because there is a big, beautiful package under the tree. Gorgeous wrapping paper all tied up in a pretty red bow.
Then I open it. It's a glove. It's one of the most beautiful gloves I've ever seen. Slick and shiny. It can catch anything. All the other kids in the neighborhood wish they had a glove that nice.
BUT I ALREADY HAVE A NICE GLOVE! Several, in fact. I still have the one you gave me last year. Once, just once, could you bring me a freakin' bat? That's all I ask. A bat. One that can hit. If I don't get a bat, I'm not going to be able to use those gloves anymore, no matter how nice they are.
A bat. One baseball bat. Please. I'm desperate.
They keep coming...
You know I was very good this year. Very, very good. I think I deserve something nice for Christmas. But I peeked under the tree and I saw what you're going to get me and I'm not happy.
Iowa? Really? Iowa? Nobody asks for Iowa for Christmas. Last year I asked for Chicago and you got me Daytona Beach. OK, I didn't complain about that. I'm from Florida and Daytona Beach is really nice, although I did exchange it for Tennessee later in the year.
I've got nothing against Iowa. I'm sure Des Moines is nice in the summer. Oh, who am I kidding? It's hot and humid and it smells of hog farms. The locals say it smells like money. You know what smells like money? WRIGLEY FIELD, that's what.
Last year I asked for Chicago and you didn't get it for me. This year, I'm asking for Chicago again. Don't make me ask again next year.
And don't even think of giving me St. Petersburg.
One last one.
I was very good this past year. I got 200 innings and a trip to the All-Star Game last year, and that was perfect. I loved it. It was a great gift. I know all the fielders behind me all chipped in to get me that.
So that's what brings me to this year. I want to be good, I really do. But unless you give me another three or four miles onto my fastball, I'm going to need some help being good. So please bring me a wind that blows in from center field every fifth day. Please bring me a shortstop who doesn't chase butterflies between pitches. I'd like a third baseman. Seriously, any third baseman. Do you know what it's like to pitch with only three infielders? They tell me I had a third baseman last season, but I didn't see one.
And if you want to give me that gift that Jeff doesn't want, I'd happily take it.