Now the debate can finally be settled when it comes to the 2004 Red Sox. 

It's not Johnny Damon. It's not Kevin Millar. Sorry, Mark Bellhorn.

Manny Ramirez is the Ultimate Idiot.

His career already tarnished with a 50-game suspension in 2009 for violating the MLB drug policy, Ramirez reportedly tested positive again this spring. Instead of facing a 100-game suspension, Ramirez chose to retire, ending a career that should be remembered as much for female fertility drugs and shoving a 64-year-old man over ticket allotment (gee, how did such an act of rage come about?) as for his 555 home runs. 

Until Friday, Willie Mays misplaying balls in the outfield for the 1973 Mets was the standard we set for embarrassing final acts by baseball players. That now belongs to Ramirez, who cheated, got caught, cheated again and got caught again. Nice legacy.

Goodbye, thanks for the memories and never come back. For once, run as hard as you can and find an exit.

Manny (ironically) pissed away a first-ballot Hall of Fame selection (and now has zero chance of ever getting in the HOF, Dennys Reyes has a better shot) because he needed to … what, exactly? Stay relevant? Hit 22 home runs, instead of 16? 

Arrogance v. Stupidity has long been a debate when it comes to what made Manny tick in Boston. The Manny backers (and there were millions of them, who signed for .320/40/120 with no questions asked) played it off like he was some kind of overgrown child who somehow managed to show up at the ballpark and put up MVP kind of numbers. Forrest Gump with plate discipline.

The more cynical crew believed Ramirez was a quitter, a fraud, a highly immature embodiment of all that is wrong with the $20 million a year athlete.

Score one for the cynics.

Manny Ramirez is one of who knows how many guys that ruined numbers. Baseball, of course, is more about numbers than any other sport. 714. 511. 2,130. 61. And now so much of that is gone, wiped out in the time it takes to stick a needle in your ass.

Who knows what is real and what isn’t over the last 15 years? Do we just throw everything out? I know it’s hard to believe, but there were some players in the 1990s and 2000s that never touched any HGH or dipped into the world of fertility drugs. So do we leave everything in and hope that 50 years from now, in a world where performance-enhancing drugs could be commonplace and even encouraged, the Steroid Era is looked at as nothing more than the early years of significant medical advancement? Well, that doesn’t do, either, right? Does anyone have an answer? Didn’t think so.

Mike Schmidt (and I'm starting to think that Schmidt's 500th homer was the final historic regular-season homer of the pre-Conte era) retired in 1989 he was seventh on the all-time HR list with 548. 

Today he's 15th, passed by guys like Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa, Alex Rodriguez, Rafael Palmeiro and Manny Ramirez. What do we do with that? 

The question Red Sox fans always want to dance around, though, is this: Are the two World Series titles tainted? Sure, we don't know if Manny was actually juiced or not during those years, but the two-time cheater tag eliminates any benefit of the doubt. 

My answer? Of course they are. Just as it is with the 1997 Marlins (gary Sheffield, Jeff Conine) 1998, 1999 and 2000 Yankees (Chuck Knoblauch, Roger Clemens, Andy Pettitte, Jose Canseco), the 2001 Diamondbacks (Matt Williams) and 2002 Angels (Troy Glaus). But the truth is that it didn't matter which team won the World Series in those years. Every team had cheaters, someone had to win.

A Red Sox left fielder who managed to put up numbers without stuffing himself full of hormones, Carl Yastrzemski, (playing weight: 175 lbs) threw out the first pitch on Friday afternoon. He was never as popular a player during his career as Manny was at his peak of popularity in Boston. Part of it was the shadow of Ted Williams, part of it was Yaz's reluctance to get close to the fans, to break that wall. 

But now -- at age 71 -- Yaz is beloved, if still looked at as a bit of an eccentric. People recognize his greatness (44 years since the last triple crown winner, an accomplishment that somehow survived the steroid years) and look at him as one of them. 

Manny Ramirez will never have that. There will be no Manny Ramirez Day in Boston, or Cleveland, or Los Angeles (is Manny Mania still sweeping Southern California?), or Chicago. Pretty sure that goes for Tampa as well.

He -- like Clemens, Sosa -- is on his own, which might be exactly what he wants. With Manny, you never know. He retired in perfect Manny fashion -- when no one expected it, and due to an almost incomprehensibly selfish act.

"You do it, you get caught, you're an idiot. If you do it again you're a dumbass," said Bobby Jenks, a former teammate with the White Sox. "I mean, it's sad to see. One of the greatest hitters, or one of them, to make the same mistake twice, same bad choice. And within a year and a half of each other? I don't know, you know?"

Oh, we know. We all know.

The Ultimate Idiot is gone. 

But what he did to the game stays forever. Just look it up.