No one wants to hear it anymore, but I want to say it still: 

I work for a non-profit and qualify for food stamps. I won't tell you what I make exactly, but I will say that it is very little. But when I was asked to do a different job then what I wanted to do, guess what? I did It. Because it was my job- that simple: I do what I'm asked when it's my job. 

It's a tired argument, but it is a true argument. Michael Young will get 48 million dollars to play baseball for the next three years. I love my job, but that would be awesome- awesome. And if the Rangers asked me to play DH or pick up peanuts, I would do it. Because its my job. Michael Young needs to grow up; at 22 I've figured something out at 34 he is missing: you do your damn job, and you do what the people paying you ask you to do. 

I really used to love him. He was without a doubt my favorite player. If I had a dream foursome to pick in golf, he would be teeing up with me. I wished my future kids could of watched him play. But now, I hope he gets into a new uniform, because I don't know if I can bare to see him wear the one I have idolized since birth. 

Seriously, no other profession would this be tolerable, and I'm not going to tolerate it from anyone.