Manny, so small., originally uploaded by Kluv32.

We both knew things were coming to an end. It had been an amazing eight years, but we've... grown apart recently. We first met ages ago, while he was in Cleveland. We admired him from afar. He was everything we were looking for at the time. "Why can't we get guys like him?", we asked ourselves.

So, naturally, it was a big deal when he moved to Boston in the winter of 2000, to be with us.

We were quite young at the time, fresh out of college. Manny was great -- we'd never known anyone like him before. Guys who used to kick the tar out of us suddenly trembled when he showed up at home. He fit right in with the rest of our friends, making us laugh with his wild, crazy antics.

Remember the mp3 sunglasses? The pee breaks in the Green Monster? The wacky, headfirst slides into home? Selling his neighbor's grill on eBay? Cutting off Johnny's throw from the outfield? Those wild locks, taking on a life of their own through the years? Petting Tavarez' head like a puppy?

Sure, we had our issues from time to time (what couple doesn't?). But Manny was a rock. He was our constant. Other guys would come and go. Some -- like Pedro -- hurt a lot more than others. Still, every time we were in a funk, we'd turn around and there was Manny: smiling, laughing, crushing poor baseballs and changing our sporting lives forever.

When we first got together, winning a championship was one of those ever-elusive dreams. We longed for it, but questioned our belief that it could ever come true. ManRam helped make those dreams reality not once, but twice.

By the beginning of this year, we knew there was a chance we'd be going our separate ways soon. We held out hope that things might work out. Things were going so well: we hadn't had a blow-up in ages, he seemed so content -- so comfortable.

It spiraled out of control oh-so quickly.

His temper flared: taking a swing at Youk, pushing Old Man Jack to the ground. He told us he was unhappy. He wanted a commitment from us. We weren't ready. "Why can't we wait until the end of the year?", we asked. He became more upset. Perhaps he didn't really want us to commit -- maybe was making us do the hard part. The breaking up part. We don't know.

We may never know.

The writing was on the wall, though. Things were uncomfortable. We hoped that he'd stick around until our lease was up in October. After all we'd been through, it seemed like a reasonable idea.

But then he said some things. We said some things. Maybe we both meant it, maybe we didn't -- at this point, it matters little.

It's over.

So here we are. Trying to move on. People keep trying to tell us that he was no good. He was selfish. A disgrace.

I reject that.

When I think of Manny, I see the deliriously happy kid running out on the baseball field, holding an American flag on the day he got his U.S. citizenship. I see him hugging everyone, from Pesky, to Pedie, to US. I see the World Series MVP holding that sign, riding on the Duck boat while the city of Boston goes berserk. I see one of the greatest 1-2 combinations in baseball history. I see the moonshots that I'll never see again, sailing over the wall and into the night air.

274 Home Runs. 868 RBI's. Innumerable smiles and points to the dugout, the stands. Relationships are hard and complicated, and yes -- sometimes they just come to an end. But I don't regret a goddamn thing about spending the last eight years with Manny.

Vaya con Dios, Manuel. I hope we can still be friends.