An open letter to Manny Ramirez

Dear Manny Ramirez,
I'm not a Red Sox or Dodgers fan, but I once had a fake affair with Johnny Damon, before he went to the Yankees and got a haircut. I used to enjoy watching you and him together, with the "bunch of idiots" that won the World Series. Johnny made me swoon, but you made me chuckle. You have personality. You wear your uniform like an unmade bed. You don't appear to be all too concerned about your physique. You remind me of a big chubby guy who plays softball in his jeans on weekends. You look like you are having the time of your life on the field, but when you get irritated, you don't try to hide it. You get pissed off at Kevin Youkilis, you slap him upside the head. You let it all hang out out there in left field, and someone had to coin the phrase "That's just Manny being Manny" to describe your behavior.
Manny, you've got talent. You've got a World Series ring, and a good deal of records. You've hit more home runs than Ted Williams. You're a bonafide Major Leaguer. So I can understand why you would take performance enhancing substances. I really can't blame you. If I were a major leaguer, I probably would, too. After all, you are paid to win and fill seats. If you don't hit home runs, there are thousands of guys in the minor leagues literally lined up to take your place. It's clear to me that most of your co-workers are doping. How can you compete if you aren't doing everything possible to improve your game? You can't. It's not your fault. Baseball is broken.
Here is why I am disappointed in you, Manny: Your predecessors in the Hall of Shame have treated us, the fans, like we are stupid. A-Rod said he didn't know what his cousin was giving him. Barry Bonds, Mark McGuire, Roger Clemens all would have us believe that they routinely ingest and/or inject substances without knowing what they are. Bullshit.
Manny, you've always seemed honest. When you're bored at press conferences, you leave. When you are proud of yourself for jacking #500, you toss your bat and raise both arms over your head as you watch it leave the park. Why not let it all hang out now? We know, Manny. We understand. Tell us that you need it to compete. Tell us that you've been doping all along. Tell us that management only pretends to care about PEDs. Tell us the truth. You can make history and change baseball.
Just don't say anything about Ken Griffey Jr or Edgar Martinez, okay?
Sincerely,
the Crazy Blog Lady