Dear Sidney Crosby,

Boy, where do I begin? Let's start with this: I hate your team. I hate your stupid city. I hate everything and everyone from Pittsburgh (other than a select few).

Your fan base is arguably the worst in the NHL (maybe tied with Flyers fans and *shocker* you're from the same state) and maybe even sports period. When you have fans throwing their towels on the ice because they think a goal went in when it clearly went over top of the net, there's something wrong.

Your fans would be admirable, if they weren't such damn babies. Every call that doesn't go your way is a "boo" in the stands and a threat to the ref. I admire any official that will make a call against you in your rink, because they have balls of steel. Their cheering, though, is incredible. You do even one tiny deke and they're up in arms, with some of the older women swooning.

Now, let's get into the meat of this letter: you. I cannot STAND you sometimes, friend. After the whistle, you'll level a guy and then skate to the refs, seemingly as fast as you can. Are you kidding? You're definitely one of the most hated players, but anybody that would legitimately fight you would give you a fair chance.

A fair chance you didn't give your buddy P.K. Subban of the Predators the other night. You crushed him against the boards in their end, then slightly missed on another after he took the puck back into your zone. He took exception to that last hit and you both hugged each other, but you took him down and smashed his head into the ice at least 5 times. When P.K. got up to finally defend himself the ref steps in, as if on cue. You would think you would get the only penalty for roughing, but nope. Both of you went.

JOKES SID THE KID. Man up and take the beating, then sit in the box for 5 like a real player and reflect on the ass-kicking.

You're a shifty player and do a lot of stuff I hate, but good lord does I respect you. You hit 1,000 points in your career this year, doing it the 12th fastest behind the likes of Gretzky, LaFleur and Lemieux. You're arguably the most skilled player in the NHL today.

You have surrounded yourself with an all-star team like Kessel, Malkin and Murray. You took Jake Guentzel, a third-round draft pick, and turned him into an absolute stud on the ice in just a year. You're on your way to winning back-to-back Stanley Cups, making that 3 in your career, and you're named after one of my favorite dogs on Earth.

To close this out, Sid, I'd like to tell you a few things. The first, I wish you the best of luck in the next game, maybe two if the Preds can pull the next win. You've been the best team in the league for a couple years. Second, I only wish you harm in the heat of the moment. I don't actually want you to tear a labrum or snap your femur, I just hope that my guy Brandon Dubinsky inflicts as much damage as he can in a game; like you've said before, "it's just hockey!"

Finally, I hope Mike Sullivan, your lovely head coach, forgets to protect you against the Golden Knights this year and they pull you out of that hellhole they call Pittsburgh. The anguish and screams of agony from your fans would bring me a pleasure I'm not comfortable discussing.

In short, eat dirt and good luck,

Michael Bee

P.S. Get a Twitter so I can hate-tweet you.