On Wednesday, the day before Trevor Hoffman signed with the Milwaukee Brewers, the Padres’ front office spoke.

“We just don’t have the money.”

Those wise words came from the mouth of Padres’ General Manager Kevin Towers.

“We just don’t have the money.”

That is pretty true. We have a $40 million payroll, one that will probably be slashed again next year. We have two players taking up half of it. We barely have enough for good players, as we sign minor league free agents and veterans that are way past their prime.

“We just don’t have the money.”

OK, I understand that. A lot of us today “just don’t have the money”. This economic situation is wearing on all of us. It’s really hurting baseball, too (well, except the Yankees). But in these times especially, people sometimes just need to scrape up that money to go enjoy some baseball. To get their mind off of things. To enjoy America’s pastime.

Living in San Diego is not easy. It’s not the cheapest place on the earth. And our sport teams have a lot of problems. How many years has in been since the Chargers have been in the Superbowl? How long will it be until the Padres get into another World Series? Will even our college teams go anywhere?

When you’ve had a legend like Trevor Hoffman in San Diego for so long, people come out to see him. People come out to experience Trevor Time, to hear “Hell’s Bells” ringing through the stadium as the all-time saves leader runs out from the bullpen. He’s made a legacy here. He is San Diego.

So I ask you, Padres’ front office, why Trevor?

When you look at Trevor, don’t you see the impact he’s made in San Diego? Do you not see the crowd at Petco when the bells start ringing? Do you not hear the immence cheering when that man trots out of the bullpen? Do you not see the changeups, still fooling batters even after all these years? Do you not see that man in the clubhouse, being a leader while goofing off? Can you not hear his subdued voice, taking any blame there needs to be taken for a blown save? Do you see him in the clubhouse after a great save, looking for praise? Can’t you see that he’s hanging out in the trainer’s room or the cafeteria, waiting for the reporters to leave? Is he disrespectful to other players, to other people on the field? Are you blind?

So I ask you again: Why Trevor?

You say it was him or Brian Giles. When Trevor didn’t get back to you on that pathetic $4 million contract, you had to decide. Would you pick up Giles’ option, or would you save the closer? We didn’t need Giles. We could have let him become a free agent. Jody Gerut would have been fine in right field. Giles is taking up $9 million right now. You know that Trevor would have taken a little less than that. We could have offered him a better contract. But no. For some stupid reason, you decided to go with the aging right fielder who is being accused of abuse right now. He might be a great leader in the clubhouse! But Trevor would have been so much better. You know that.

Why? We could have made room for him. He deserves a spot here. He belongs in San Diego. He’s been here for so long. It just doesn’t make sense that you can let him walk away. But you did. And the Padres fans are not happy, Bob. NOT HAPPY.

We’ve been putting up with a lot from you guys over the years. We’ve been putting up with lot this offseason! We don’t like it, and though you say that you are thinking of us, it’s obvious that you’re not. Why should you care what the fans think? We can’t do much about it. Maybe you should start taking a collection at the games. Lock all the doors and don’t let the fans leave until they donate to your cause. We’re already sacrificing so much just to go to a game. Why not make it worse?

I can’t believe you let Trevor Hoffman walk out of here. You are going to regret it. Just watch, he is going to have an incredible season with the Brewers, with a front office who loves him and treats him with the utmost respect. He’s going to get 40+ saves, make a big impact on that Milwaukee club. He’s going into the Hall of Fame as a Padre though, no matter what.

You say you wanted him. But you didn’t even try. We could have saved him. But you “just don’t have the money”.