Dear Jim Hendry,

You and me? We've never met. But authenticity matters amongst Cubs fans. Let me give you my resume:

My grandfater was born in 1916. He fought in World War II. He was a farmer for 30 years and then he mowed lawns for the park district. He has, since he retired in the late 80s, listened to or watched 75% of the games the Cubs have played. He's never seen a Cubs World Series game.

My father was born in 1947. He was drafted into the Army and was a few minutes away from being sent to Vietnam. He's been a carpenter in the Chicago suburbs for 40 years. He works nights at Ace to make ends meet. He has listened to or watched 75% of the games the Cubs have played. He's never seen a Cubs World Series game.

I was born in 1979. I have it easier than these two: I went to college and teach high school in the Chicago suburbs. I was there in 1998 when a bunch of idiot frat boys started a mini-riot in Normal, Illinois when the Cubs survived Brant Brown's Drop only to be swept away like so much dust by a mediocre Braves team. Before this season, I have listened to or watched 75% of the games the Cubs have played. I have never seen a Cubs World Series game.

That said, I'm on a self-imposed boycott of your team. The pathetic performance in last year's NLDS was the final straw. I'm old enough to know better, and now I'm no longer young enough to pretend. Watching a team that should have won lose was too much for me---I can handle teams that should lose losing. I've been there. But that performance--a gutless, heartless, mess of a performance--that was it. I'm through. I'm taking a one-year break. I'm not overpaying for tickets. I'm not paying $30 to park my car. I'm not wearing your clothing, and neither are my kids. I'm not watching your games on television, and I haven't heard Ron Santo's voice in weeks.

Or should I say I was on a one-year break.

If you sign Jim Edmonds. If you make the classic Cubs GM mistake of bringing in an aged, gutless, injury-intoxicated doofus under the guise of bringing in "veteran leadership," well, then me and you and your people? We're through. For good.

And so what, you ask? I have 20 million of you in Chicagoland alone! I can lose 100,000 of you and still sell $850K worth of beer before the games even start. I can lose 1,000,000 of you and still fill the park 81 times a year. Of course you can.

I mean nothing. In the scheme of things, I'm just another walking source of cliches. But I would piss blood for ten years if this team would win it one time. One time. And you seem intent on making the drought last forever by taking someone who can't swing a bat without grimacing and bringing him in to replace a vibrant, talented, young player. To paraphrase Junior Griffey: Do you really think Felix Pie can't make the catches standing up that Edmonds, even in his prime, had to dive for? Do you really think Pie can't sneak above the Mendoza Line playing every other day? Do you really think that Edmonds, who has been a bearded, smug-faced boil on the backsides of Cubdom for the past decade, will be able to withstand the inevitable abuse from fans tired of his Not Even As Good As Lance Johnson mediocrity?

Honestly?

You have the best team this franchise has seen in 40 years. You have a patient group of hitters, despite your attempts to flood the area with guys who'd rather not clog the bases. Despite the fact that you will not demand your manager remove Soriano from the leadoff spot. You have a bullpen that might end up the best in the majors. You have two great starting pitchers, one who is pitching out of his weight-class right now, and two who will be adequate companions to your thundering offense. You have youth on the bench. Just stop it, already. Stop. Breathe. Deal with the fact that you might have to wait a little while. If Edmonds comes back and hits .950 for the Brewers, you'll still have made the right decision.

Please, Jim. I can't take this. It's the straw.