Hey you, Ryan, yeah you. Come here....

What are you an idiot? Sullivan might think so. (couldn't resist) You're going up against the Cubs in arbitration? Did you know I'm a psychic? You're gonna lose. Badly. And you'll be a not-so-happy-go-lucky plucky, scrappy little infielder. You'll be a bitter angry upset little infielder and you'll still have a rag arm, but you won't be as aww-shucks-like.

Don't get me wrong kid - you're kinda cute in a "I won't throw the puppy out in the cold unless he chews my mattress" kinda way. But beyond that, you're a slap hitter and an average fielder. Not exactly the gateway to Jeterdom ya know?

So lighten up kid. You're gonna lose, and lose bad. Take whatever bone the Cubs are throwin' ya and run away like a bandit, because that is probably the best steal you'll get all year without being picked off.

This is yet another example of the written word that I wish could be spoken word because it comes off in my head so much better than it looks.