Many people were intrigued on how Nationals right fielder Jayson Werth was able to type his ever so angry email to the Washington Post about Phillies fans after breaking his wrist on Sunday.
Werth, who had his feelings hurt but the small handful of fans who heckled him as he walked off the field in pain, wrote a vengeful email to the Post, vowing revenge on all of Phillies fans.
But how did he write his email after having surgery on his broken left wrist? Our TTB insiders found out:
“Michael, I have a hollow feeling in my heart” Jayson Werth said to Nationals GM Mike Rizzo. “Surely what those burly Phillies fans said to me has left a dark pain in my soul.”
Werth sits in his recliner, holding a glass of 21-year old scotch by the fire place as Mr. Rizzo tends to the fire in the Werth estate.
“I know, I must summon the scribes of Washington and let them know of the wrong-doing those people brought in our Nationa’s Capital on Sunday!”
Werth jumps up. “Quick, Michael, to the computer for I surely cannot type in my condition.”
Mr. Rizzo logs onto Werth’s computer, typing in the password for Werth’s gmail, which is BROADST2008.
“Michael, are you ready?”
Werth clears his throat:
“Dear scribes of Washington, I am bringing to your attention the wrong-doing that has happened in the Park of Natitude on May 6, 2012. Whilst a fly ball shoot towards my direction in the 6th inning, I galloped in its direction, hoping to gracefully catch the ball in my leather mitt while the crowd of Washington regailed in my glory…
Scotch is now sloshing from Werth’s cup, getting all over Mr. Rizzo’s back.
“Alass, I broketh thy wrist, dropping the ball but valliantly threw it back into the infield before I lieth in pain on the lustful grasses in right field. Whilst I slowly walked off the field, in apparent pain as my wrist drooped limp, the baboons of Philadelphia jeered me, taunting and saying how I deserved my fate. Well I shall let them know that I will haveth thy revenge on the City That Loves Thy Brother and they will never celebrate on that Street they called Broad, again!”
As Mr. Rizzo shakes his head at Werth’s ridiculous accent, he fixes the email so it looks more presentable to normal people and sends it off to the Washington Post, while Werth slumps back into his recliner, listening to “High Hopes” and sobbing himself to sleep.