I’m not the sort to get all teary-eyed about an athlete or coach parting ways with a program. I understand only too well that much of sports is purely about business these days, and there’s no room for sentiment when you’re making multi-million dollar decisions.

But watching Peyton Manning part ways with the Colts on Wednesday was really hard for me because I developed a relationship with the game of football through watching him.

I grew up in Singapore, where “football” meant the English Premier League, and my peers rooted for the likes of Manchester United, Liverpool, and Arsenal. But from a young age, I’d always held this unusual fascination with American culture and all things associated with the United States.

We got cable when I was 13, toward the end of 1998, Manning’s rookie year. The Sportscenter anchors talked about him constantly and I quickly caught on to the fact that he’d been drafted No. 1 and was expected to rebuild a franchise.

As a newcomer to the football who’d only just grasped the concept that you had four downs to move the ball 10 yards, I latched on to this high-profile NFL newcomer because, I figured, what better way to get acquainted with this strange, but enthralling, world of big men, big hits and big plays, than to start following a rookie’s career.

I’d learn with him, I thought, and thus, a Peyton Manning fan was born. Slowly, I became an NFL fan from half a world away. Sunday Night Football aired live on Monday mornings in Singapore, though I’d usually watch the repeat telecast in the afternoon after school.

By the start of the 1999 season, I was excited for the return of football because my understanding of the game had deepened to the point where the jargon that rolled out of John Madden’s mouth was finally starting to make sense.

Manning’s understanding of the game had deepened too. His sophomore season was spectacular: 13-3 in the regular season, and a postseason appearance for the once-dismal Colts.

He’s the reason why I’m partial to aerial football: I learned the game through watching him pass at will to his arsenal of receivers, executing perfectly every time.

That, I decided, is what football should look like.

So Wednesday was a sad one for me. Fourteen years after Peyton first served as my host into the world of the NFL, I sat on a couch in the newsroom , wearing my No. 18 jersey, glumly staring up at the TV.

As I watched Peyton Manning talk about how hard it was for him to be leaving Indianapolis, I felt like I was in mourning.

The Manning who quarterbacked the Indianapolis Colts will forever remind me of the kid who learned the ins and outs of America’s pastime from a living room across the Pacific Ocean.

Watching his career made me realize what my career should be. And as I sit here now, finally a sports writer in the only country I’ve ever wanted to live in, it’s hard to say goodbye to the Manning who revived the Colts, because it signals a goodbye to the past.

It’s going to be strange to see Manning in a different jersey next season. But I’ll always be a fan, because I feel strangely bonded to him even though I’ve never met the man.

LOH ON TWITTER: @StefanieLoh