Dear Bob: A Love Letter From my Broken Heart

Dear BoMel,

It’s been a fantastic 11 years. I adapted this poem for you:

O Skipper! my Skipper! our grueling trip is done,

The team has fallen every year, the prize we sought not won,

The port to the new stadium is near, the cowbells I hear, the people all exhausted,

While on top of eyes the Ray Bans, the expression grim and resolute;

                        But O heart! heart! heart!

                        O the bleeding drops of green and gold,

                            Where in the dugout my Skipper stands,

                             No longer happy and done inside.

  O Skipper! my Skipper! rise up and hear the cowbells;

Rise up—for you the flags are hung—foryou the vuvuzuela trills,

For you baseballs and MOTY awards—for you the stands a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

                        
Here Skipper! dear Melvin!

    This glove beneath your head!

     It is some dream that in the dugout,

                                 You’ve fallen away and gone.

My Skipper does still answer (any press questions), his lips move and smirk,

My Melvin does still feel our shouts, he has a pulse and will,

The ship is anchor’d unstable and unsound, its voyage not yet closed or done,

From decades long trip the Oakland ship comes in without Bob won;

                        Be sad O shores, and ring O cowbells!

                           But I with mournful tread,

                              Watch the dugout my Skipper left,

                                 Fallen to the Pads and time.

I am not angry, just disappointed. Not in you. For over a decade you gave it your all and created many long-lasting memories. Playoff season or not, you did your best. Every game you were there, as players came and went. Vuc, Foss, and you were tried and true.

I have some favorite games, but they are not important in this scope. That subtly sly smile when we would win warmed the cockles of my heart. Being showered with champagne and letting it all out. Whether reading glasses or Ray Bans, you wore them and #6 in style, although you are still figuring out the best angle to hold a phone when being interviewed (Pro Tip: for best results, never shoot from below your chin). You not only inspired confidence in your teams, but in us. As a person, you are good – to your family, to your friends, and to the fans. I hope you know how much we have appreciated your time with us.

Maybe this is it. This is the break-up. But I’ll cheer you on in the next phase of life with the Padres. San Diego is lucky to have you. I wish we could have gone all the way together, but where we went is still very sweet. For your belated birthday, I’ll pour one out for you.

Goodbye, Bob.

Always with love,

LoveMelvin