For the greater good. For the… sigh… greater good.

“By the time you read this letter, I may be (gone). I have so much to tell you and perhaps very little time. Will I ever (publish) it? I don’t know. I must find strength to write now before it’s too late, and as I write it may become clear that what happened to us had its own reason beyond our poor understanding.”

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone.

I knew you guys would try to save me. Try to talk me out of it. And I couldn’t let that happen. I can’t be saved. This world? It’s not for me any longer.

I purposefully pre-set this to publish at 6:05 p.m. Because by the time you read this, it will be too late to stop me.

This is something I have to do.

I know many of you won’t understand. I don’t expect you to.

Just never doubt that I love you all. Not for a minute.

And… if we don’t speak again, know that everything I did, I did for all of you.

By the time you read this, I will be watching the New York Yankees game.

Don’t bother calling. My phone is off.

I will be watching the New York Yankees game. In public. I will, at a reasonable volume, say, with as much enthusiasm as my 27 years of hate can muster: “Go Yankees.”

I will say things like “Go Derek Jeter,” and “You get ‘em, Nick Swisher.”

I don’t know if there’s coming back from that. I will use Curtis Grandersnot’s real name (It is Curtis Granderson) and say, “Please get a home run, Alex Rodriguez.”

And I will say these things freely. Freely.

I do this, my friends, so you won’t have to.

I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight. Or tomorrow.

But I’ve given so much, Soxies. I’ve given my pride. I’ve given my hopes. My dreams.

And tonight, dear friends, I give my dignity. It is all I have.

With this sacrifice, I hope I’ll prove to the baseball gods once and for all, that I’m in this. I have nothing left to give.

Best-case scenario, I move on from tonight. When the series is over, I’ll be able to return to my life. My job. My home.

But I’m not that naïve. I know that the EMPIRE… They’re not just going to let me leave.

But that’s a risk I have to take. For the greater good.

If I don’t come back, tell my mother… tell her… you know what? Don’t tell her anything. Or make up something noble and tell her I said it. Just don’t tell her that I… you know…

Went Stankee.

We’ve been through so much, you and I. I hope you… I hope you understand. This is something I have to do. For the greater good. Curt Schilling pushed me to this. Curt Young pushed me to this. I’m not a fan, right now, of people named Curt.

I love you all. You have to take care of each other now. Forgive me.

Until we meet again…

Go… Yankees.

Sigh.

~L