"You're a moron."
Of the thousands of words that have filled my e-mail inbox in the last two days, those were three of the nicest.
"I hope to God you are punished in some way, shape or form."
Oh, I've been punished, all right.
In the wake of Friday's column accusing the Boston Celtics' Paul Pierce of milking his knee injury like a professional wrestler, I've been subjected to hundreds of e-mails whose cheap personal attacks would be an insult to professional wrestling.
I'm all for blasting that guy with emails letting him know that his lazy, inflammatory column was… well… lazy and inflammatory. But this goes too far.
"I hope you . . . get cancer and die," he wrote. "Why don't you just die or quit, you ugly fat (bleep). I'm going to find out where (a relative) is buried and me and my buddies are gonna dig (the) skeleton up."
That just makes us look bad. Call him an idiot for writing what he wrote… but end it there.