An Open Letter to Javier Lopez

TO JAVY LOPEZ, former catcher for the Atlanta Braves:

It was a grand day in Richmond when you became my favorite player.  We desperately needed a run, and you were up to bat.  In my 11-year-old mind, I just knew that if I told you to hit a homerun, you would.  So I did.  And you did.  We won that game, and your status as Numero Uno was solidified.

I followed your career religiously as I grew up...when you went up to Atlanta, I was delightedly miserable--great for you, but I'd never see you play in dear old Richmond ever again.  When the strike happened, I was upset; your first major league season was destroyed.  I followed your ups, your downs...you had a lot of downs, but I never gave up hope.  You were the greatest catcher in the world!

The years passed, and you had a great last season with Atlanta, before you became a free agent.  When you went to Baltimore, I was upset.  I hate Baltimore.  On the plus side, Baltimore is a lot closer than Atlanta...so my mom, my sister, and a friend went to Baltimore that first year you were there, when the Orioles were hosting the Braves.  I tried to get your autograph before the game, but you wouldn't come out to sign autographs for anyone...so I got Eddie Perez's autograph instead (still have it, and Eddie, you're wonderful!  Thank you, you made my day!!!).  I was so excited to be there, seeing my Braves play, seeing you there, that I even tried to root for the Orioles, just so I could root for the hometeam...and your team.  Except your team was slaughtering the Braves.  It was 7-1 in the 8th inning, and it was horrible.  Misery had descended upon the 4 Braves fans sitting in the bleachers.  

Then John Smoltz came out of the bullpen.

I have a picture of him walking across the outfield to the pitcher's mound.

Smoltzy took over, and the game began to turn around.  In fact, my Braves beat your Orioles.  8-7.  Yes, it was a great moment in Atlanta Braves' World; you know as well as I do that the Braves have a tendency to not come back in those sorts of situations. 

Elated, we waited for you after the game, because I wanted your autograph more than anything in the world.  It would have been the crowning moment of my life.  We waited...and waited...and waited.  We saw you come out into the parking lot.  We saw other Orioles come out into the parking lot.  We saw other people get autographs from other Orioles players.  We waited some more.  The bus pulled out, you came running around it, didn't glance at anyone, and got on the bus.  The bus pulled away.  My heart shattered.  I no longer have a favorite baseball player.

I stopped rooting for you from that moment on.  I laughed when they switched you from catcher to designated hitter.  You had to live up to being a DH when Sammy Sosa was there...and neither of you delivered like anyone wanted you to.  It pleased me.  I no longer cared that you were playing terribly...and I was delighted that you weren't even really playing anymore.

I knew you were traded, but I didn't know where you'd gone.  I heard several rumors, then saw an overview of trades and saw you'd gone to the Colorado Rockies...and gotten released from your contract before the season began.

I laughed.  It served you right.  You should have given me your autograph.

You didn't play last year.  HA!  

You went back to the Braves this year, but we weren't having it.  You had to try out, and we cut you.  How did that feel?  The team that brought you up from Puerto Rico, that pulled you through the minors and into the big time, the team that stayed behind you even when you were as terrible as Chipper...and you were cut.  So now you've "retired."  Don't kid yourself.  We all know what happened.

You should have given me your autograph.