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Fernando Tatis Jr. Is My New Religion

And he should be yours, too!

Fernando Tatis, Jr. by Keith Allison is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Fernando Tatis Jr. Is My New Religion


Estimated Reading Time: 3 Minutes

I would not consider myself a religious man. We’re far from my days of forced Vacation Bible School and Youth Group singalongs, but I have now seen the light. I was a lost soul. A directionless heathen. But by the grace of Fernando, I have been saved.

This is my formal announcement for the foundation of The Church of Tatis. We welcome all to join his grace and beauty. To rejoice in his majestic home runs, stolen bases, and swagger that oozes from every pore on his body.

I could sit here and list stat after stat but I know true belief stems from what you can see with your own two eyes.

This was just the past week’s accomplishments from my new Deity.

I understand if you are not convinced yet. The weed-like roots of all former religions run deep. A simple 30-second clip may not be enough to break you free.

I give you exhibit B. Even when he fails he inspires me to be a better man.

We all know chicks dig the long ball. The 90s taught us this ad nauseam. My man Tatis also boasts a howitzer where us mere mortals have limbs.

Tell me you would not follow this man into the depths of hell? You can’t.

LOOK AT THIS HUSTLE; HE DOES IT FOR YOU.

For those of you who are not convinced, he forgives you. I don’t but that is why he is baseball Jesus. He will rise above where us mortals falter to give a glimpse of paradise to us here on earth. He even inspires me, a known lover of sleep, to stay up to the unforgivable hour or pacific coast time baseball. The equivalency of moving mountains.

Fernando Tatis Jr. is the truth. The one. The Neo of baseball but without the other two shit sequels. He will inspire the next generations of greats both on and off the field.

This is the beginning of a utopia. Thank you Fernando. All praise be.

Josh grew up in the midwest and upon graduating from the University of Iowa he wanted to see the world. After 4 years in Jacksonville he decided he was cultured enough and moved on to Birmingham England (known to the locals as the Detroit of the UK) and then west to San Francisco before settling in NYC. He pays his bills working in finance making sure the 1% remains on top. When he is not selling his soul and unable to look himself in the mirror, he spends his time writing mean things about sports while his dog, Sweet Dee, silently judges from her spot on the couch. He is very biased and never wrong. He would also like to thank Rotowire for never changing their NBA League Pass and MLB.TV passwords from that year when he was an NBA Beat Writer for the Nuggets for some reason.

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