Jealousy: Watching the press conference, seeing Manny playing grabass with Jeets and A-Rod, reading the quotes about how he’s so happy to be playing in New York and “it’s just so relaxed here, man”… it would push me dangerously close to nun-punching extremes.
Resentment: Even as he played whack-a-mole with Jack McCormack’s noggin, even as the stories bubbled up about him shutting down on his teammates, I still couldn’t get my hate on for Manny. I do, however, suspect that would change once he donned the pinstripes.
Despondency: You know it’ll be coming… the inevitable Manny walk-off during a Sox-Yankees mash-up. And I can already envision myself, curled up in the fetal position in a pool of stale Coors, scrawling “do not resuscitate” on my ass with a Sharpie.
Rapture: Being in New York means Manny’s just one June swoon away from a Post and Daily News savaging. I can almost see the “Ramiwreck” headlines now…
Indifference: The somber realization, sometime after August, that I was actually more upset when Mark Bellhorn signed with New York.
But as Cashman tells us, we probably won’t have to worry about it anyway.
"SURVIVING GRADY is Red Sox Nation's 'Mystery Science Theater 3000.' Brilliant, irreverent, and merciless." -- Stewart O'Nan, author, 
