I can read you know. I’ve seen all those hurtful and hateful things written about me all over the Internet. Yes, I know, I’m big. I’m oversized. I’m comically gigantic. But I can’t help it, I was made that way. Don’t blame me.
And please, don’t take it out on my poor friend, David Wright. It’s not his fault. He got beaned by a 94-mile-an-hour heater right in the melon. And it hurt. It really, really hurt. Of course, he looks absolutely ridiculous, but if you’re going to laugh at anybody, laugh at me. Or laugh at Ryan Dempster. He was the first player to wear a similar model to myself. But it’s easier to laugh at a Met, isn’t it?
Can’t you see my positive qualities? I have a cool name—the s100. It kind of sounds like a rocket ship. Or a monster truck. Those are nothing to laugh at.
You want protection? I can give it to you. Not only can I safeguard a player from a 100-mile-an-hour fastball, but if an anvil falls on his head, he’s safe from that, too. A ton of bricks? A piano? Debris from outer space? Safe, safe and safe. Who wouldn’t want to have me around to fortify their noggin?
So I implore you to leave David alone. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He just wants a little peace of mind. So what if it takes a monstrous helmet to provide that (ok, it’s so enormous, it doesn’t even fit in the picture at the bottom)? He wants to feel safe, sound and secure. And isn’t that what everybody wants?
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