Mannywood!!!!

My heart has been ripped out. I can feel the emptiness in that large cavern of my chest. (you notice I said large) I can feel the tear drops sliding down my cheek. In fact I find my self in that day dream stare that you have when you find out that your puppy love has checked the large no box on the note you just passed through English class.
Yesterday we found out that the Dodgers big star, Manny Ramirez, has been busted. Out for 50 games, possibly back around the 4th of July. Not that I am a big Manny fan. I do not own the dreadlocks sold at the stadium or live in Mannywood. He was just a big part of my team. Where do I go? What do I do to get out of this funk?
I realize now that I cannot become a player fan, I am a team fan. These players take the buyouts, sell themselves on the open market and use drugs they know are illegal. It is just an open sore ready to ooze. My Dodgers will live on without Mr. Manny. Let's just live for the game. Pretend we do not see the faces or know the names. I am cheering for the uniform and the cursive writing across the chest. GO DODGERS!!
I know the solution.... the announcers cannot use the players real name and the players wear bank robbers masks. We cannot know who they are. Can you imagine a John Stockton to Karl Malone assist like this..... " The small point guard passes to the big power forward for the slam dunk and ... ouch he bonks his head on the back board because his mask covered his eyes. " I think that works.
Seriously, get the druggies out of the game. There is always someone else to take those places. In fact here are my stats: 5'9" weight 195 played 20 years ago and hit a slow pitch softball every time up for 6 years straight. No strikeouts! I think I could get at least 30 million don't you think?