Dear Mr. McGriff,
First off, if you're reading this, let me just step back and say: Awesome. But, if you're reading this on a laptop with a flashlight under the covers in bed next to your wife, let me just step back and say: You are not seven years old. Turn off the laptop and make love to your wife.
Second, I think I owe you an apology. I started writing The Tao of Fred McGriff with the intention of posting daily for 99 days. But frankly, I don't think I have 99 things to say about you. Yes, you were a great hitter. Yes, you have a World Series ring. Yes, you'll get my vote for the Hall of Fame (though I technically don't have a vote to give. Let's just say I'm with you in spirit). Yes, you hit a ridiculous amount of home runs in an era when other feared sluggers were juiced. And yes, you had a failed TV pilot that I want to see.
If you've read this blog in the past, you know I like expounding on the intricacies of baseball and baseball cards ad nauseam. But 99 things is a lot. I'm not complaining, I'm just giving up.
Let's sum up The Tao of Fred McGriff:
1. Revel in your underratedness.
2. When faced with a silly nickname, accept it and make it your own.
3. If you make a TV pilot that someone might describe as "Major League meets Blade," prepare for it to end up on YouTube.
4. Each of us is worthy of a cult following.
5. Consistency should be rewarded.
6. Whatever it is, it's worth the wait.
7. Don't stress out about face fat. You too will end up with a turkey wattle.
8. Making a photo frame that's magnetic and that looks like a plaque in the Hall of Fame is not only a great gift, but probably the closest many of us will ever get to the real thing.
9. Most of us haven't realized it yet, but we all owe a great deal to Tom Emanski.