Manny Ramirez was traded from the Red Sox to the Dodgers last week. Tim Abbott has some thoughts on how to tell the kids.
Emily gave her heart unconditionally to Manny Ramirez.
I haven’t yet had the heart to tell her he’s gone….
Emily fell for Manny at first sight. How could she not? He was not the silent leader, brilliant behind the plate but woeful beside it. He was not the fleet-footed infielder, that springbok in a herd of wildebeest. No, she loved the class clown, charismatic and cute in his baggy uniform and oh so free and easy. I knew with certainty what every father of a tender-hearted daughter learns; this love would end in heartbreak, and there was nothing I could do to spare her. Perhaps postpone it for a day, but no more….
Will her love turn to loathing, her tender heart tenderized with a 33 oz bat? Will she carry a torch even as he wears the Dodger Blue? Or will she, with the wellsprings of an 8-year-old’s empathy, somehow see through the casual clown to the tears within…?
I can tell her that this will pass, and share my own stories of Red Sox hope and heartbreak. I can hope that she falls for that nice kid Pedroia, or wingfooted Ellsbury. None of that will matter. Her heart is her own. It will find its way.
Mine was Carlton Fisk. And Freddie Lynn. But then I learned my lesson and came to acknowledge the Seinfeldian truth that we really just cheer for laundry. At least that’s what we like to tell ourselves.