Unlucky in sport and in love, one lifelong minor leaguer went to the famous advice columnist for help. While she tries her best, I'm sure we can do better.
From yesterday's Dear Abby column (2nd item):
DEAR ABBY: I'm a 26-year-old minor league baseball player. I have been involved in two serious relationships. My first was a girl I became engaged to when I was 20 and in college playing baseball there. I loved her and was committed to her, but she was jealous of my "first love" — my sport. She constantly tried in subtle ways to get me to quit. After we had a huge fight, she finally threw my ring back at me.
I stayed single for a couple of years and then met a woman and began slowly dating her. The first year our relationship was good, but over the next three years the same issues arose and I was hearing, "You're selfish." "You don't love me." "Grow up!"
Being a professional baseball player has been my dream since I was 5, and I'm not ready to give up on it yet. Both these women continue to call and text me crying because it didn't work out. I'm angry at them for not supporting me, but I also feel sad for them because all they did was love me. What do I do about them and about trusting women with my heart and dreams? — LOVELESS IN THE MIDWEST
Abby responded with her trademark vague-yet-optimistic advice, along with some weak-but-inevitable baseball metaphors. But I'd like to take a crack at this one.
"DEAR LOVELESS: You blew it. You've already spent the lion's share of your youth seeking relationships, instead of road beef. While I know minor league baseball player isn't the chick magnet that being a pro athlete is, you're probably in a small town, where your competition for floozies are mostly out-of-work auto workers and Walmart greeters. You've been too focused on your career, ignoring the establish fact that men only dream about careers in sports to get women. And now you're 26.
What you should have done was land that trophy wife in college, when your future was still bright. Women don't know any better; they think anyone who gets drafted is going to be a multimillionaire. You should have hooked someone out of your league when you had the chance. Now you're single and well on your way to being Kenny Powers.
My advice: enjoy whatever you can make of you single life now, before you find yourself with the St. Paul Saints, and then, inevitably, selling real estate."
This advice stuff is tougher than it looks. Perhaps our distinguished commentariat would like to try its hand?