My letter to Bud that I just sent.
Mr Poloquin, there was a time, it seemed, when there was honor in your profession. A time when a man would write about another man, and not bring his wife in to the conversation. After reading your column (if you have the nerve to call it that) today, I can see that the time when a man acted like a man and wrote like a man has indeed passed us by. From your own words, Missy Shafer wasn't talking to you. She was talking to someone else. But, like the small man that you are , you stole her words and used them to get some cheap clicks for your column. I can't help but think that life must be terrible for you. A small man doing a small job. No real talent or skills. The Post Standard has some excellent beat reporters. You don't have the talent to be a beat reporter. Don't have the brains or the skills to be a real columnist. It must have killed you do read someone like Sean Kirst, knowing that the folks would read him and see the difference. So, what do you do? You do what any cheap hack does. You take one cheap shot after another. It's funny because as poorly as Coach Shafer did, he was still better at his job than you are at yours.
I'm reminded of another small man. This man, like yourself, a bully. And like every bully I have ever known, at his core a coward. And finally one day, a man, a Boston lawyer named Joseph N Welch, put this small man in his place in front of the entire country. His words ring true today for you as well. He said, at long last sir, have you no sense of decency? It's too bad that question was answered long ago in your case. I look forward to the day they send you packing.
