A young, pre-mustache Don Mattingly

The following are a series of letters written by Don Mattingly to his high school sweetheart Anne Meriwether. They were intercepted by a sports memorabilia collector and have recently been posted on e-bay with a minimum bid of $2,000. Anne never received the letters and knew nothing of Mattingly's attempts to contact her. She is currently married to an abusive roofer.

June 8th, 1979

Dearest Anne,

Hey, it's Don. Sorry about that thing at the prom. I swear I didn't mean what I said. It's just that Scoops got me drunk and I really did think I was fucking Amy Stoneman, but I'm not. Plus Amy's all pissed off too 'cause she heard about it. You can ask her - we're just friends. Well, at least we were. Anyway, there's good news. I got drafted today by the New York Yankees. Can you believe it? Me, a Yankee. I hope I fit in. They're sending me off to Oneonta next week. I hope that we can put our troubles aside and see each other before then. I'll be thinking of you.

Miss you,

Don


June 29th, 1979

Anne,

Hey, it's Don. I guess you're still pissed. Well, I'm not in Evansville anymore. I'm in the minors and it's okay, but I miss you. There's a bunch of girls that like us ballplayers, but I told them that I'm taken. That is to imply that you're my girl. You are my girl, right? Cause if you are then maybe you should write back. I'm lonely and in a bit of a slump. I was thinking about that time in high school when I was in a slump and you did that thing with your tongue that you never did before and then I started hitting the shit out of the ball... yeah, well I was thinking if you wanted you could come here and do that again - if you want. Anyway, I miss you. Write soon, okay?

See you soon?

Don


July 18th, 1979

Anne,

Hey, it's Don. I'm hitting .378 and I found a girl that can do that tongue thing just like you, only better. I also have a mustache now. The chicks dig it. They're talking about calling me up to double A next year. I'm gonna be in the big leagues. What have you done? Nothing. I'll bet Scoops and you are having fun, aren't you. Well guess what, Donnie's having fun too. I love the minors - and I don't love you.

Don


July 19th, 1979

Anne,

Hey, it's Don. Um, I was a little drunk when I wrote that letter yesterday. I sent it by mistake this morning. Sorry about that. I am doing well and things are fine, but I'd like to hear from you. I miss you sweet tits.

One of many 80's novelty baseball posters

Awaiting a reply,

Don


August 4th, 1979

Anne,

Hey, it's Don. Fuck you.

Don


September 6th, 1982

Anne,

Hey, it's Don. Don who? Don fucking Mattingly - big league baseball player. Making the league minimum, $42,000. Take that and smoke it. I'll bet now you wish you would have gotten back to me, huh? But you didn't. I have this great girl named Kim and I think I'm going to make her last name Mattingly. What do you think of that? You're pretty stupid.

Don


July 7th, 1984

Anne,

Hey, it's Don. I'm an All-Star and I just had my first child to Kim Mattingly. No, not Anne Mattingly the way God planned it, but Kim Mattingly. I make $220,000 now and I have a big house. You have everything but me. Take that, bitch.

Donnie Baseball


November 3rd, 1995

Anne,

Hey, it's Don. I'm retired and my back is killing me, but the $8.7 million I've banked over the past few years takes away some of the pain. They're going to retire my number and I'm a hero in New York. I don't know what you've done, but it isn't as good as me - you can bet on that. I'll bet you feel pretty bad, huh? Well, you should. I'm just writing to say that I'm over you. I have three kids and a wife that returns my letters. She even cooks now and then. I don't care about you anymore and I thought you should know that. Today I burned my high school yearbooks to symbolize the end of it all. It's over Anne, it's finally over. I'm sorry.

Donnie Mother Fucking Baseball