Son, we live in a world that has good baseball teams, and those teams have to be beaten by teams with hitting and pitching.  Who's gonna do it? You? You, Joe Cowley? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Strassburg, and you curse the White Sox. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know -- that Strassburg's no decision while tragic, probably wins games; and my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves .  

You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me behind that plate -- you need me behind that plate.

 We use words like "bunt" "hit and run," "put it on the board, yes." We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line

I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very wins I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it.

I would rather that you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a bat and step into the batter's box. Either way, I don't give a DAMN what you think you're entitled to!