I couldn't have said this any better...
From Projo:
"Bill Reynolds: If you want to leave, Pedro, do it quietly
01:00 AM EDT on Tuesday, May 4, 2004
Memo to Pedro:
Shut up and pitch.
Because your act has grown tired. Your whining. Your petulance. Your propensity for making yourself the center of attention.
Then again, self-absorption has a short shelf life, and you became a poster child of that a long time ago.
This latest little diatribe was vintage. In a season where, once again, you've essentially been incommunicado to the media, you elected to lash out at the Red Sox for their failure to give you a new contract, using selected media members as your messengers. No matter that this is only the beginning of May, the Sox are in the middle of a great start, and a new manager is learning how to negotiate the unique terrain that's baseball in Boston. You fired a verbal blast at the Red Sox, one that changes the landscape, serves notice that odds are you will not be here next year.
Which is all part of the biz, I suppose.
But you didn't leave it at that.
"I'm just really sad for the
fans in New England who had high hopes that at this time I could say, truly, that I was going to stay in Boston, but now they're going to have to compete with the rest of the league," you said.
The fans?
Please.
Don't insult our intelligence.
This has nothing to do with fans.
This is all about an attempt to get more years of big money, one last score. If you can get it, fine, more power to you. If you can't? You're just finishing up a contract that reportedly has given you $90 million, so don't expect someone passing a collection plate in your behalf. The point is, this is business, one that should be conducted between you and the Red Sox in private. To bring the fans into it is disingenuous.
You've been bordering on being just another Jock Brat for a while now, what with your penchant for doing what you want to do, damn the consequences. Then again, you long ago learned we always make allowances for talent, that as long as you still can get people out, both the Red Sox and many of us will make every allowance for your behavior, bring out the excuses like managers bring out pinch-hitters in the late innings of a losing game.
But this is poor timing.
The Red Sox are off to a great start, with maybe the best pitching they've had since the Truman Era, and you clearly are one of the centerpieces if this. The last thing this team needs is you being a distraction, the portrait of an unhappy Pedro, feeling as if the Sox are playin' with your future, your baseball life. The last thing this team needs is for you to be the center of attention for all the wrong reasons.
Don't misunderstand.
You are a great pitcher, as good as anyone I've ever seen. You are one of the best pitchers of your generation, and it's been a privilege to have had the chance to see you at your best.
But maybe a better phrase is, you were a great pitcher.
In your prime, you were all but unhittable, doing it with your own particular ?lan. You also seemed to have a certain undefinable spirit, a certain joy, a love for what you did. You were bright, you were funny, and in the aftermath of Roger Clemens, whose tenure had grown embittered in his last few years, you were refreshing, like a clean wind blowing through a dusty hallway.
That's been gone for a while now. In its place has been someone who seems to move through the latter stages of his career with all the emotional maturity of a 15-year-old. When things are going well, you're fine. When they're not, you're something less than that. You have become our baseball diva, tempermental, thin-skinned, believing that the moon and all the stars spin in your personal orbit.
You also are not the pitcher you once were, not that that should come as a surprise to anyone. You will be 33 in the fall, and that's a lot of pitches thrown, a lot of wear and tear on a frame not designed to throw hard forever. Power pitchers who last are usually big and strong. History tells us that.
Still, you are remain very good, even if you now need more finesse, more guile, and pinpoint location, all to compensate for the lack of the big gun. Even if it's never going to be 1999 for you again, you still are going to have games when you give us reminders of the way it used to be, for on memory alone you still are better than most of the pitchers in the game.
You also are under contract for this year at more than $17 million a year, and one of the unwritten rules of that contract should be that you shouldn't be a distraction, In other words, spare us the melodrama.
So if you want to be a free agent at the end of the year, throw yourself into the open market. That is your right. If you want to go somewhere else next year and pitch, that is your right, too.
Until then?
Just shut up and pitch."