MARK TWAIN once apologized, “If I had more time, I would write you a shorter letter.” No one reads Twain anymore.
Dear Mr. Lincicome,
You are a sports parasite, a creature that feeds on the inevitability that 95 percent of all sports teams go home without a championship ring. . . . In the next year or two, Chicago may also have a championship in a major sport, which will put cynics like you on page 10. It truly is a darn shame that the fans have more appreciation for the teams that play their hearts out than the writers who supposedly represent them.–David B. Alfvin, Bellwood.
Dear Mr. Alfvin,
Trust me. Cub Fever can be cured.
Dear Mr. Lincicome,
I felt that your reference to Joe Montana and his many marriages did not seem to be needed. None of us knows the reasons behind his divorces, so that means we don’t have the right to say anything about them. Just because he’s had two divorces doesn’t make him any less of a human being, or a quarterback, for that matter. Next time you decide to do some comparing of quarterbacks at Super Bowl time, why not try comparing by ability and not by personal lifestyles?–Pam Abraham, Chicago.
Dear Miss Abraham,
There is no truth to the rumor that Montana has a wash-and-wear tuxedo.
Dear Bernie,
Too often your cleverness seems like hostility. (Like a New York stand-up comic or someone imitating one.) I wonder if you like sports in Chicago. I wonder if you like your readers. I wonder if you perceive your job as being a sports critic. . . . So what I want to know is, Are you from Chicago or someplace else? Do you have the authority to be as cynical as you often appear? If you are from Chicago, I suggest you lighten up and try some optimism. If you are from someplace else, keep up the good work and I’m sure you will be back there someday.–Jim Hawley, Milwaukee.
Dear Jim,
Curiosity can be very unattractive.
Bernie, my man . . .
This is a reply to your, ugh, column concerning lights in Wrigley Field. Seems to me, my man, that you just love trouble and can’t stay out of it. If something is left alone for generations and “flows” its own way, that is hell for you. Destroy it, screw it up, jazz it up, turn it upside down, all in the name of progress, right?. . . . Did someone make you the mouthpiece of the Trib to educate us ignoramuses as to what is good for us and what is archaic? Keep this up and we will make life so miserable for you in Chicago that you’ll wish you never heard of Chicago or the Trib. Continue to aggravate us, you all-knowing one, and you’ll be out of here so fast, as fast as we get rid of all the dingbats who don’t belong here.–Andrew Zurczak, Chicago.
Andrew, my man . . .
So that’s what happened to Greg Luzinski.
Dear Bernie,
As one of your harshest critics, I’m sorry I couldn’t bid on this “opportunity of a lifetime” (to hit you in the face with a pie). I honestly don’t think you do anything in good fun.–Al Dordek, Wilmette.
Dear Al,
My worst fear is to be taken for a good sport.
Dear Bernie,
What on earth is wrong with a little controversy over who is No. 1? Why the childish obsession with crowning an “undisputed” champion? Will we eventually sink to the level of demanding a punt, pass and kick competition for the Heisman Trophy? A little healthy argument adds interest to the game. I, for one, enjoy the postseason bowl games and dread the prospect of seeing my beloved college sport turned into a junior version of the NFL.–Clifford Vickery, Chicago.
Dear Clifford,
Too late.
Dear Bernie,
Not all Cub fans are opposed to lights in Wrigley Field. I, for one, and probably a majority of other true Cub fans would welcome night games. You see, most Cub fans like myself do not live within walking distance of the park. Most Cub fans are employed and work during the day when weekday games are played. Most Cub fans would join me in attending night games in large numbers. Go out and find out what the real fans think, not just the bartenders, housewives, retirees, salesmen, vagrants and the rest of the crowd that currently attends weekday games.–Thomas Pazur, Chicago.
Dear Thomas,
Okay, Lee Elia. Stop kidding around.
Dear Mr. Lincicome,
“Tour de force” is not a phrase often applied to sports journalism, but your (Doug) Flutie column surely qualifies for it. In its own way, it is of Heisman quality itself, a long sour note sustained to a length beyond the powers of ordinary men to achieve. It confirms your eminence among professional provocateurs, no other of whom has as yet discovered flaws in Flutie. As the Trib’s Designated Denigrator, your ambitions must daily be to repel the reader, cause him to smite the forehead, dither with rage and roll his eyeballs. The Flutie column would appear to have reached the summit of these ambitions. It is a kind of Matterhorn of misanthropy, the sneer raised to an art form, a large green oyster hawked in the middle of the oatmeal.– James G. O’Brien, Mundelein.
Dear Mr. O’Brien,
Flattery will not get you a free subscription.