Thanks to Mark Manning, I woke up this morning around 11:15 to the most peculiar text message: Manny Ramirez suspended 50 games for the use of Performance Enhancing Drugs. The term "Performance Enhancing Drugs" has become the new "Weapons of Mass Destruction." Sad, but very true. There's always a slight gasp followed by whispers when "PED's" are mentioned.
In my sleepy bliss, I laughed at the text. I laughed for two reasons: One, I couldn't believe it. And two, if it was true, good. I've cursed Manny since the day he forced his way out of Boston. His antics last season were almost a disgrace to the game. Between rolling around in the outfield like a 4 year old in a sandbox who isn't quite ready to go home yet, to not hustling down the baseline on a ground ball, Manny seemed to just give up. The money was and always will be the issue with Manny. There always seemed to be something better out there for Manny. Year after year, Manny was always on his way out. But it never happened. He'd come back and we'd welcome him right back into our hearts. Telling us that "Boston was the place to be," we always believed him. But on July 31st, 2008, he got that "something better." LA was the place to be. Manny finally walked out that door, and so did my admiration for him.
From 2000 to 2008, Manny was it for me. Being a young ball player, I idolized him, especially his hitting. The way he approached hitting was like nothing I had ever seen. His plate presence, his balance, his hip rotation, and the way his hands quickly moved through the strike zone. It was fluid as can be. It was truly a work of art. I think I can count on one hand how many times Manny looked foolish at the plate. One Hand.
My initial reaction to the news does truly depict how I am truly feeling right now. I laughed it off, saying "good for you, you deserve it you hack." I also laughed when he got traded, and I laughed when he didn't sign with the Dodgers until February. And, of course, I laughed today. I sat and watched continuing coverage of Sage Steele (a lot hotter than I thought) and Hannah Storm (apparantly hooker boots on ESPN are in) reporting the "Developing Story." The reality had begun to set in. I became numb. No sadness, no despair, nothing. I remembered how Manny was my idol for the better part of my baseball life. And now everything he had done in a Red Sox uniform might eventually be called into question. We knew the steroid era took place during his tenure with the Red Sox, but we never thought Manny would have the brain capacity to pull off such a devious feat. With the needles, the cycles, the location of the shots, there was no way he could have pulled it off. But after today, I'm not so sure.
To be honest, I can't put my feelings into words. Like I said, I'm numb. Am I surprised? No. Am I hurt? Not so sure. The point is that it really seems like nothing is impossible anymore. It has come to the point where the next name that will come out (and it will most definitely be a big name) will not be a shocker. Baseball suffered yet another black eye today as the news broke that Manny Ramirez, the fun-loving, nonschalant slugger, tested positive for an illegal substance. Bud Selig and company better break those First-Aid ice packs with their collective fists, because there's going to be a lot of healing coming in the near future, starting with this MANNY-ac.
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