It's something I'll probably never get used to...
Okay, now that the initial reaction post is out of the way, here's the one where I really sit down and think about what just happened. At first, when I found out the Marlins deal had fallen through, I figured that it was just like every other year - a lot of talk and no action, with Manny remaining in left field in Boston. And then my mom called me from downstairs and informed me that Manny was going to Los Angeles. If it were a less serious matter, a pun such as 'it came out of left field' or 'out of the blue' would be appropriate here, but we're talking about the cleanup hitter who terrorized opposing pitching staffs with his partner in crime, David Ortiz, for what seemed like an eternity (but really wasn't as many seasons as it feels like). This is big.
Over the years I've always found myself in awe of the man. He is clearly one of the best natural hitters of my lifetime - not only does he have natural ability, but he works incredibly hard on his batting constantly. He is also in possession of an underrated throwing arm (many a runner has tried to test his accuracy only to be gunned down at second base), the longest dreadlocks in the MLB and a quirky, disarming personality that alternately renders him charming and indignant to the fans, the press, the front office and even his own teammates. For the past several weeks, it's been the ugly side of his personality in the spotlight, and as a result he's now leaving in a way I never imagined he would.
In my mind, I always pictured him retiring gracefully from baseball after spending his final season in Boston, with Fenway perhaps even holding a Manny Ramirez night in his honor. He would get special honors before the game, maybe even a plaque handed to him by old friend Ortiz, and would walk off into the sunset satisfied when the season ended. I should have known better - this is Manny, after all, and he couldn't go out like that. Josh Beckett could - Josh is a cowboy, after all, and it would be appropriate for him to ride off in such a fashion. Manny is an oddball, though, and since he's so unique it makes sense that he's doing things his own way. It may not have been particularly well-handled on his part, but he is getting the exit he wanted from Boston, so he certainly succeeded in his endeavors.
I'll miss the man. He gave me some of my best memories as a Sox fan - there were one or two rough spots in there, but my memories of him will be overwhelmingly fond...his batting, his mastery of geometry and physics that allowed him to field balls off the Monster with such expertise, the way he could be counted on to come through when he was needed. He was an integral part of the Sox roster for many years, and it'll seem almost alien without him now. I almost think a part of me will never quite get used to the post-Manny era.
I just hope that when Jason Bay steps to the plate at Fenway for the first time that he isn't booed for not being Manny. After all, nobody can be Manny - there's only one, and we'll just have to accept that he's gone and try to move on. It will be hard, certainly, but it unfortunately has to be done. Let's just try to take a few steps forward, one at a time, and hope for the best - for him, for the Red Sox, for Brandon Moss and Craig Hansen in Pittsburgh, for newcomer Jason Bay, for everyone. Because maybe if we all remain optimistic, it actually will work out in the end.
Over the years I've always found myself in awe of the man. He is clearly one of the best natural hitters of my lifetime - not only does he have natural ability, but he works incredibly hard on his batting constantly. He is also in possession of an underrated throwing arm (many a runner has tried to test his accuracy only to be gunned down at second base), the longest dreadlocks in the MLB and a quirky, disarming personality that alternately renders him charming and indignant to the fans, the press, the front office and even his own teammates. For the past several weeks, it's been the ugly side of his personality in the spotlight, and as a result he's now leaving in a way I never imagined he would.
In my mind, I always pictured him retiring gracefully from baseball after spending his final season in Boston, with Fenway perhaps even holding a Manny Ramirez night in his honor. He would get special honors before the game, maybe even a plaque handed to him by old friend Ortiz, and would walk off into the sunset satisfied when the season ended. I should have known better - this is Manny, after all, and he couldn't go out like that. Josh Beckett could - Josh is a cowboy, after all, and it would be appropriate for him to ride off in such a fashion. Manny is an oddball, though, and since he's so unique it makes sense that he's doing things his own way. It may not have been particularly well-handled on his part, but he is getting the exit he wanted from Boston, so he certainly succeeded in his endeavors.
I'll miss the man. He gave me some of my best memories as a Sox fan - there were one or two rough spots in there, but my memories of him will be overwhelmingly fond...his batting, his mastery of geometry and physics that allowed him to field balls off the Monster with such expertise, the way he could be counted on to come through when he was needed. He was an integral part of the Sox roster for many years, and it'll seem almost alien without him now. I almost think a part of me will never quite get used to the post-Manny era.
I just hope that when Jason Bay steps to the plate at Fenway for the first time that he isn't booed for not being Manny. After all, nobody can be Manny - there's only one, and we'll just have to accept that he's gone and try to move on. It will be hard, certainly, but it unfortunately has to be done. Let's just try to take a few steps forward, one at a time, and hope for the best - for him, for the Red Sox, for Brandon Moss and Craig Hansen in Pittsburgh, for newcomer Jason Bay, for everyone. Because maybe if we all remain optimistic, it actually will work out in the end.