It’s now been about a month since you wrote to me. If I can assume that was you. I’ve been able to get some big hits in our games, including a single that beat the Senators today in the bottom of the 12th, but I have to admit it’s been very tough to concentrate on these spinning fastballs when I don’t even know where you are. Strange, huh? Haven’t been in any kind of rush to be a dad myself, but now I’m acting like you’re out driving around in the Packard at all hours of the night.
We had a typical up and down week at 3-2, but on Wednesday when the Athletics were busy trouncing us 7-0, I saw a sad little Tigers fan as I came into our dugout after a rough half inning. He looked about your age, his chin slumped in both of his hands, and he stared at me with these sad puppy eyes and suddenly I couldn’t get you out of my mind for the rest of the game. I even missed a liner that Wally Moses shot right past me for an RBI single.
I had no luck at all writing a Michigan congressman about you and your family, and my manager Mickey Cochrane doesn’t get it either. So I need a new idea here. Come to think of it, maybe the trick is letting as many people know about this case as I can. I know an old Tigers beat man who now edits a national baseball paper, and if I buy him a fat steak down at Carl’s he just might do me a favor. Let me look into this, and in the meantime, as always, please write back if you ever read this letter.