My Heart Belongs
to Manny
written by Sarah Blodgett
Summer time is a time for cookouts, pool parties and America’s favorite pastime. And when people are tired of that they watch baseball.
Even though I’m from Boston, arguably the most obsessive sports city on the planet, growing up, I never really followed sports. In fact, it wasn’t until junior high school that I learned that the B on my Dad’s baseball cap stood for Boston Red Sox. He always told me that it stood for Blodgett, and that they made the hat for him. I was arguably a very gullible child. Then, in high school, I read an article about Drew Bledsoe signing a multi-million dollar a year deal with the New England Patriots. It was then I realized how much money athletes make and that I should start paying attention. That day, a Pats fan was born, and I followed football religiously for years.
One day, in college, I decided to get tickets to a Red Sox game and give baseball a try. It was there that it happened. I fell in love. It’s true what they say, you never know when cupid’s arrow will strike you. I was hit hard. I looked up at the big screen and saw Manny Ramirez. It was love at first sight. Well, not so much for him, since he hasn’t seen me, but I truly believed that, if we met, he would love me. I mean, he’s married and he doesn’t speak English. As a busty blonde, those are the two types of guys that I am the most popular with. And I know everyone keeps telling me Manny is an asshole, but, assholes LOVE me; not to brag.
Because of Manny, I became a loyal Red Sox fan. I watched Manny help his teammates, a “happy bunch of idiots”, break an 86 year-old curse and take the Red Sox to two World Series championships. The Red Sox were more than a team, they were theater. You could picture any one of the players as a wacky sitcom neighbor, and you watched each game to see what happened in the next episode.
Even though I slowly watched my amusing cast of characters leave Boston, I never thought Manny would leave. I started to take his presence for granted, I admit. I got comfortable, and didn’t do those little things I used to do, like watch games wearing my number 24 Manny t-shirt (child size of course, I had to look cute).
Just like other people remember where they were when Kennedy was shot, I remember exactly where I was when I heard the news that Manny got traded to the Dodgers. I was at a comedy show, and luckily I had already done my set, because the news rendered me incapable of speech. After weeks of speculation, and dozens of contract negotiations, just like that, he was gone. He just left and never even said goodbye.
To make things worse, everyone in Boston keeps raving about Jason Bay (Manny’s supposed replacement). Okay, maybe he is a good ballplayer, but he will never be Manny. He will never have Manny’s swing; a swing so beautiful it could make me light-headed. He will never hold that perfect pose at the finish of his swing like Manny, watching the ball, his masterpiece, as it flies out of the ballpark, and then strut around the bases with his dreadlocks blowing in the New England breeze. Jason Bay will never bring that to Boston. Never.
Even with all of the drama that surrounds Manny, missed games, drug scandals, I am shocked at how the entire city of Boston has turned on our former hero. However, no matter what he does, I just look at the TV screen, into those big brown eyes, and I can’t be mad at him.
I don’t watch Red Sox games anymore. First place or not, I just can’t do it. It’s too painful. The Manny Show has been cancelled in Boston. From now on, every time I drive by Fenway Park, a single tear will roll down my cheek in honor of my Manny.
At least football season is just around the corner.
Sarah Blodgett is a comedian from Boston.
Visit myspace.com/sarahcomedy.