Dearest Wife,

Today I took to the stands to watch a contest between two professional baseballing clubs. With peanuts and malted beverage in hand, I prepared to watch two sets of men, at the top of their craft, practice their art and leave us all agape at their proficiency.

Imagine my horror when I glanced down at my ticket stub, to ensure I was in the proper seating area, and I noticed the words “San Francisco Giants v. Pittsburgh Pirates” in agate type across the face of the ticket. I was instantly transported into a hell from which death would have been a blessed relief; I gazed across the greensward at my fellow spectators, and they all had the same look on their faces, a mixture of stunned disbelief and shock.

I soon realized, dear wife, that I was trapped; I had one very large gentleman sitting in the seat immediately to my left, and to my right there was a man who, to be charitable, had enjoyed several of the very malted beverage that I currently held in my shaking hand. Fearing for my future, I put down my beverage and began to panic; the stewards were more interested in ensuring that spectators did not disturb the participants than in the general safety of the masses, it seems.

I must cut this missive short, as I will now attempt to find my way out of the morass of horrible sporting activity in which I find myself; I can only hope that the next time you hear from me it is under more favorable circumstances, as I fear I may not survive this onslaught.

Keep me in your thoughts, and I will hopefully be back in your loving embrace before you can say “Honus Wagner”.

or was it the company that built a library but forgot to add the weight of the books to the building design?