Dear Mr. Torre First of all, let me state for the record, that I am not a Yankees fan. That being said, let me express my severe disappointment that you will not be back next year to lead the New York Yankees. I understand that as of late, many have been upset with your refusal to take 5 million for another year with the Yankees. Let me just say this Mr. Torre, I am not one of them. I, for one, back up your decision not to settle for only a meager 5 million. Why is that? Hope, Mr. Torre, hope. That’s right that, I was driving home and heard that you turned down the 5 million I saw a glimmer ray of hope. I was having an extremely rough day, and that was all I needed to brighten the other wise cold and blustery day. You see, for the last 4 years at college I labored under the preconception that I needed to be good at what I did. Yes, that night I realized something, I could be a hardworking stooge all my life, or I could be a millionaire slacker. I think most people would think that for the manager of the Yankees, who can buy any player they want, to turn down 5 million dollars when he hasn’t won a world series in 7 years, well he must have some sort of Elephantiasis of the male genitalia. But I know differently, Mr. Torre. Its hard work, getting a team comprised of all-stars to beat teams comprised of one or two all-stars and then some other guys.  I mean, how could you win? I’m sure no one else given your multimillion dollar bankroll of player could do any better. But 5 million would have kept you as the highest paid manager in baseball. Which is why I admire you decision not to accept it. Clearly mediocrity is worth far more than 5 million. However, your continuing stone faced expression adding to the excitement of a pitching duel will be sorely missed.

So, once again, Mr. Torre, on behalf of a nation of slackers, thank you for giving us hope. Thank you for showing us that all of us average underachievers could, one day, be multimillion dollar underachievers. Who knows, we may even get a chance to coach the Yankees.