Beau Fielding, a resident of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, has issued this statement:
Ryan Braun, now that you have made (up) an apology, I would like to make a preemptive apology. It has come to my attention that in May 2014 when I’m at Miller Park, specifically the first home stand of May, I won’t be able to contain myself, and I will demonstrate exactly what I think of you. Exactly what I think of you will likely be exactly what many other Brewers fans will be thinking. In fact, up to and until next May, and beyond, you will no doubt hear many opinions.
However, from my seat along the third base line, on that night, unbeknownst to me as my true self, I am going to rip you a new one so new you’ll have to pull the tag off it.
Before Thursday, August 22, 2013, I never harbored a single negative thought about you. Not once. I would go so far as to say you were an idol in my heart, an image of the perfection Brewers fans have dreamed of for decades. Even when you went 0-15 in July 2010 and again in August 2012, I never had a negative thought. Then, last Thursday afternoon, August 22, I had my very first negative thought regarding you. This was my very, very, very, very, very, very, very first negative thought about you.
To you, Ryan Braun, I want to say that I am not at all sorry for the things I am going do that night. This apology is for others, for folks who merit being apologized to.
To my sons, Cody, Tommy, and Scott, Daddy’s sorry. I feel terrible that you are going to have to see me like that. I will replace your gloves. And caps.
Ryan Braun, when you take the field at the top of the first I will call you a scum-sucking piece of alleged—alleged, mind you—human shit. I will then correct myself, and tell you that if a piece of alleged human shit took a shit that then took a shit that was puked on, it would be you. When I notice, in my peripheral vision, my three sons looking up in amazement and wonder, I will tell you to look at what you’re doing to the American family, the pain you are putting into the lives of children who have lost yet another hero, and to top it off, have to see parents, older siblings, or gamblers become wild with rage when your numbers trail off because you’re not cheating any longer. Look, I will say, at what you’re teaching children about cheating, you asshat!
My family has always loved baseball. And because most of the members of my family are wise, almost all are Brewers fans. At the old County Stadium some of my great uncles were “two-fisted slobbers,” as the public service announcements used to say, but I ask you, what fan doesn’t have a few great uncles who were two-fisted slobbers? My point is that you are messing with the American family. You are a douche bag of the grandest measure.
I will make some mistakes when that spring evening at Miller Park arrives. I am going to disappoint the people closest to me. But presently I am keeping my anger from everyone. I am doing this to protect the ones I care about so much, but of course when it comes raging out, I will hurt these very ones who believe in me the most.
To Amy, I am so sorry, my beautiful darling. You are the best woman a man could have, and I apologize for what I’m going to do while the boys look on. I only ask that you try to remember that my anger is going to in part be for their sake. I will replace their gloves. And caps.
For too long, in both the coming days and in the days that have intervened since last Thursday, I am going to try to convince myself that you, Ryan Braun, are not a noxious piece of alleged—once again, alleged—human excrement. I am going to try to convince myself that taking you at your word and thinking that you weren’t a lying rodent was only fair. Until next May I am going to try to convince myself that you deserved the faith and trust of Brewers fans, nay, of baseball fans the world over. I am going to try to convince myself that the Hebrew Hammer would never pound this particular nail through our hearts. Say it ain’t so.
I have not yet begun the process of trying to understand the reasoning behind why I will do what I’m going to do next year on that May evening ; I can only anticipate it. I have only glancingly comprehended the magnitude of your assholery. I am sure that, after next year’s springtime jeremiad, as the weeks and months progress I will come to understand more clearly just how much of a turd you are. And with that understanding shall come peace. Turns out you never warranted our attention at all.
Read other preemptive apologies:
by LeBron James, for not doing something, whatever it might be, that you think he should
by a CEO, before she has an extramarital affair
by a mayoral candidate in Ohio, who perhaps emulates Anthony Weiner a little too closely
