Bottom of the ninth inning, two outs, Sox trailing by one during a rare Wednesday day game at Fenway. Lugo’s on second, just waiting to be hit home. Ortiz has been walked, so he’s standing on first. And at the plate…

Manny Ramirez. The third biggest blemish on the current Red Sox roster (trailing only Wily Mo Pena and J.D. “Earn Your Paycheck” Drew) and the one who unbeknowingly bears the brunt of my Sox snark.

I was getting play-by-play via Instant Messenger. And I was getting desperate and willing to bargain with the guy.

If he gets this done, I will buy a Manny Ramirez t-shirt.

I will wear it in public.

I will cheer for him the next time I go to Fenway Park.

By this point, there were two strikes.

FINE. I will buy a pink Red Sox hat.

(I would like to note that I didn’t say anything about wearing that in public.)

Cmoncmoncmoncmon…

And the supposedly mighty Manny strikes out.

I really should have offered to dred up my hair.

Harumph.

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