Since the trade deadline, your Mass Hysteria editors have pondered the best way to say goodbye to Manny. However, inspired by the genius of Cloris Leachman, we've come up with the perfect solution for our Manny catharsis. We present to you the Manny Ramirez Celebrity Roast:
Welcome to the Manny Ramirez Celebrity Roast. My name is GHABB,Y, and I'll be your pancreas-free roastmaster for the evening. This also marks the first time in the history of Massachusetts that a group of white people have gathered to discuss a Dominican without a judge present. Over the last eight years, Manny's been a great power hitter, World Series MVP, and an eBay Power Seller. He's grown the dirtiest mane of hair this side of Traci Lords. He's been an inspiration to children everywhere, especially those that eat paste by the gallon and try to save their poo from the toilet. With Manny, we've laughed, we've cried, we've been happy and sad, and we've slipped rophynol in Enrique Wilson's vodka tonic. Fuck the Yankees! (Only when they're unconscious and can't press charges)
And we all know how drama-filled Manny's departure was, like an episode of Life Goes On except it didn't involve me jerking off to Kellie Martin. It ended sadly, with the Sox unanimously voting to trade Manny. The last time the Red Sox voted unanimously on anything, it was to make Pumpsie Green use a separate water fountain. Personally, I think Manny was just tired of playing baseball, and wanted to follow in the rich national history of famous Dominican lawyers, doctors and world leaders.
It's great to see that Manny's teammates have come out to bid farewell him. Mike Lowell's testicle is here. Hey Lester - Mike had cancer too, but you don't see him being a bitch about it. Lester was last seen pitching his life story to the folks at Oxygen TV, and trying to get in on some of that Lance Armstrong money. Wow, you survived the Good Hodgkins to pitch a no-hitter. Whatever, Doug Mirabell's cholesterol was WAY more life-threatening, and all that dude got was free coke refills at Sbarro with his baked ziti. And don't even get me started on Carlos Quintana's latest mammogram.
David Ortiz is also here. Papi's fucked more fat white chicks than the Weight Watchers point system. He's currently father to half of Everett, and two thirds of Melrose. Papi didn't hurt his wrist swinging a bat, he busted it holding up the cellulite-ridden leg of a Framingham State co-ed. I never knew that the recipe for "Mango Salsa" involved "picking a fold and fucking it."
Your partner in diversity is also here, Mr. Coco Crisp. Coco's wondering who the hell he pissed off to play on the whitest team this side of the Peabody Nationals. Hey Coco, if Tiger Woods ever takes up baseball, your ass is gone, because he meets way more Affirmative Action requirements, and can probably hit better than .250. When Coco takes a shower after the game, he's surrounded by more tiny dicks than the Costas family reunion. If the Red Sox were any whiter, they'd be part of NBC's Thursday night lineup.
Glad to see Josh Beckett here too. Nice goatee - are you pledging Sig Ep or Pi Kapp this year? At least you're old enough to get into college, while your second baseman gets carded at Plaster Fun Time. You say you're old enough to paint a dinosaur Mr. Pedroia, but I'm gonna need to see some Government-issued credentials.
Our next roaster is the lovely and talented FutureMrsRickAnkiel. If Marlboro Points were earned for blowjobs given, she would've already won a speedboat and like five leather jackets. Her reasoning for covering hockey for the site was, and I quote "because I've never fucked on skates before." A dozen "icing penalties" later, I present to you, FutureMrsRickAnkiel...