Manny?

Usually, Manny Ramirez sends unpublished chapters of his autobiography to my friend's blog, but for some reason he sent one over here today. Oh, Manny. (ed. Zack's blog is really great, you should read it, it is so great, he's the one that came up with Manny Ramirez, he invented the baseball player on his blog.)

Chapter 100

It is 4:13 AM, 100 years in the future. It is a world without Manny Ramirez, yet I am there to see it. I stop at a toy store, to look in at a child. He wants a toy, but his mother is not letting him get that toy. I think it is a plastic gun, but I don't get a good look. His mother's rejection passed through the boy, and instead, Manny Ramirez feels rejected. I need to move on.

The next place I stop is a home. There is a spider's web on the outside of the home. I brush it away with disgust. I should never have stopped at this filthy home.

As the sun crests the hills of this suburban town, I feel my body dissolving, like water in a desert. I float into the air, a million pieces of Manny Ramirez overlooking the countryside. We float from town to town, seeing the same world from a million different angles. We, Manny Ramirez.

It is too long since we have ranged this far. Too long since we have hunted. We are Manny Ramirez, and each one of us could hit 55 home runs in a season.