My name is Meg Bond. I am a 23-year-old, petite, female with no dreams or aspirations of being a professional baseball player. But you’re my hero.
Let me explain. My husband has been a big fan of yours for years. He grew up playing sports, and now coaches football at a middle school in our hometown. He has an undeniable appreciation for athletes, which he has passed on to me throughout our relationship. When he told me your story a few years ago, I was mesmerized. For all the selfish, greedy, and unappreciative professional ball players out there, I was refreshingly overwhelmed to learn about your struggle with addiction, and how despite the odds, you overcame it. I could go on and on about how I’m envious of your dedication and transparency about your love for God; about how as a wife, I’m inspired by how devoted and patient your family is; about how humble you are in your successes…but I know you’re busy and my jibber-jabber is not your first choice of “light reading.”
But know this: you’re my hero. I live in Dallas, so I heard about your relapse. I don’t care. It brought me nearly to tears at how brave you are to make a statement about your mistakes, and to apologize for letting down your fans and followers. Every single person who cast judgment upon you should be more appreciative of how private their lives are. They should count their blessings, because their secret vices and hidden demons remain locked in the closet, while yours are strewn about for everyone to see. It’s not fair for someone as deserving and remorseful as you to be thrown into the public eye for something you’ve been fighting against for years. I know I now think twice about my mistakes, and how glad I am that I don’t have to share them with every person I know, and even those I don’t know. If I had the means, I would give all those people who made a negative comment about your relapse a piece of my mind.
I don’t know where your path will lead you, but I can say this: I wish the very best for you, Josh Hamilton. I pray for you and your family’s strength, and although I may not be the most model citizen or the most devoted Christian, I hope that my husband and I can be as solid and strong as your family is one day. I speak for my husband and myself when I say I hope you come back to the Rangers next season. I wish I could write the check to make you stay, but unfortunately our mediocre jobs probably wouldn’t do the trick. Just know, if you do leave, there will be two very sad Rangers that day. But also know that if you do go somewhere else that I will be a fan of yours for life. No matter what adversities come your way, I will be cheering for you. Even though your head may not follow it all the time, I know your heart is pure. And to me, that means a whole heck of a lot more than championship rings or trophies.
Your biggest fan,