Dear Mr. Bradley,
I am a hugemungous Cub fan. I was very excited to see you become a Cub, because my Daddy says you can hit the ball very goodly. For some reason he keeps saying many bad words when you are up to bat now. I guess you are not doing very good when you swing. That makes me sad.
I like to see many home runs, and you are supposed to be doing that! You should be hitting a million billion home runs each day, and scoring 17,000 runs. What is wrong with you? Are you hurt? My Dad says you are made of popsicle sticks and bubble gum. Maybe you need some strong tape instead. Or crazy glue!
The other night I saw you break your baseball bat. You seemed very angry. Jedi Master Yoda says that anger leads to the Dark Side. I don’t want you to be like Darth Vader. I bet he could hit a baseball with his lightsaber! Maybe you should get a light saber, and then you can hit lots and lots of home runs!
Thank you for being a Cub Mr. Bradley. I hope you get playing better soon, because my Dad needs some soap for his mouth.