The Long Sad Goodbye

He's gone. After 7+ years, 5,694 man hugs, 3,138 finger points, and 2 World Series wins it's over.

That 4 p.m. deadline I asked about yesterday? It came and went; with it went the greatest right handed hitter these eyes have ever seen. Manny being Manny in Boston is over and he's now out in Cali, playing for Joe Torre and roaming the streets of Hollywood.

When you think about it, is there a more appropriate place for Manny than LaLa Land? There he can rub elbows with movie stars, play his games in relative anonymity, and hit the beach whenever he feels like it. In Boston, the guy couldn't leave his house without getting accosted; Out there? He's just another famous face for people to arrive late and leave early to see.

So thanks for the memories, Manny. For the championships, unbelievable home runs, and occasional moments of brilliance in the field. But just as much, thanks for the laugh out loud moments when you high fived the fan in Baltimore, spent the better part of an inning rubbing Julian's head like a cat, and pointing into the dugout like some Tourettes patient badly in need of his meds.

I realize he's acted like the southern end of north bound jack ass lately; and I'm not excusing that. But if Rakes all of a sudden decides to put Trot in the washing machine and turn on the spin cycle I'm not going to forget about all the traits that make me love him so much. I'll just get angry, hang him from a hook on the wall, and move on.

That's sort of how I'm dealing with a world without Manny right now. One day I'll be over it and just move on. In the meantime? I just wanna remember Manny.

Just being Manny.