It’s been pretty clear for years now that the name Manny Ramirez would always draw mixed emotions from baseball fans.

On the one hand, he’s one of the greatest hitters that Major League Baseball has ever seen and over a 12-year span was one of the most feared sluggers in the league. He finished his career with 555 home runs, 1,813 RBI and a .312 average. News that a man like that was retiring should have led to stories about a sure-fire first-ballot Hall of Famer.

Instead, we’re left reflecting on the negatives that Ramirez will inevitably be remembered for. The phrase “Manny being Manny” pretty much sums it up: He did things the way he wanted, whether it was good for the team or not. That’s why someone so talented was never regarded as a good fielder or baserunner. There were the more or fewer harmless antics, when he disappeared into the Green Monster during a pitching change or went missing when he was supposed to be in the outfield. We laughed, saying it was Manny being Manny, and moved on.

Then there was the more harmful side to his personality. He gave up on the Red Sox, then made himself unwelcome in Los Angeles. Ramirez took a swing at then-teammate Kevin Youkilis and even attacked his team’s 64-year-old traveling secretary for not getting him enough tickets for a game.

The character issues were enough to make people doubt his Hall of Fame candidacy, though the numbers likely would have still carried him through. The failed drug tests? Well, those are pretty much guaranteed to keep him out.

Manny retired recently after receiving his second suspension for violating the league’s drug policy, possibly related to steroid use. No explanations, no apologies. He simply said he was “at ease” and rode off into the sunset. Of course, his former team, the Tampa Bay Rays, are likely less at ease.

It’s a sad tale, really. Manny was beloved by fans. He was almost guaranteed to be remembered as one of the greatest hitters in the history of a historic franchise. Instead, his personality and ego led to his downfall. When the bat slowed, so did everyone’s readiness to wave off his antics — which may say more about us than him. Suddenly, Manny being Manny seemed more like an indictment than a joke. Now, he’ll be remembered as the one-time great hitter who needed to take a women’s fertility drug to stay relevant.

How will I remember Manny? As a Yankee fan, seeing Manny at the plate was one of the worst possible situations to be in. He had 310 RBI over a two-year span with Cleveland, but I’ll remember him more for hitting 43 home runs and 130 RBI in 2004 — a season that, for years, I refused to admit ever happened.

I couldn’t stand Manny. It wasn’t just that he, along with David Ortiz, was the face of the Red Sox teams that won those two World Series. It wasn’t just that he was a Yankee killer. It was because I couldn’t respect him, the way I could with a guy like David Ortiz. The intensity of my feelings about Manny waned once he left the Sox, but the underlying issues remained.

To me, Manny is still a Hall of Famer. Of course, I also think Pete Rose and Barry Bonds should be in the Hall, with explanations of their misbehavior listed on their plaques. Manny, like those men, won’t ever get into the Hall, but you can’t help but wonder what could have been if someone had set Manny straight just once.