|
Sunday, July 31, 2005
COLUMN: Steve Solloway
Blame Manny, but save some for yourself
Copyright © 2005 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc. | ||
 |
||
Go ahead, boo Manny Ramirez. Boo him because you think he's lazy and doesn't respect the game of baseball. Boo him because you believe he's selfish and not a team player. Boo him because you think he forgets how many millions he's getting paid and doesn't care how much you paid for your seat at Fenway. Boo him because you say he's an ingrate, a cancer in the clubhouse and has shirked your idea of his responsibilities as a superstar. Boo him because you feel no one has held him accountable for his errors and his brain fades. Boo him some more. Boo him because your membership in New England's fellowship of the miserable has just been renewed. The World Series honeymoon, which should have lasted until the Red Sox were kicked out of the playoffs, has ended. Two months too soon. Give me a break. The best right-handed hitter in baseball asked to be traded from a first-place team, and Red Sox General Manager Theo Epstein made the calls. What will you give for one healthy and productive World Series MVP? What will you offer to take a superstar and his super-sized salary off our hands? And you boo Manny Ramirez instead of asking if the self-proclaimed lunacy in the clubhouse extends to the front office. Listen to the voices on talk radio and hear that the Red Sox got tired of Manny's act. Hear the comparisons to Terrell Owens, the enfant terrible of the Philadelphia Eagles. Manny doesn't have Owens' ego. Doesn't have his intelligence, either. Most of us had a Manny as a teammate. The big, talented kid who succeeded through raw instincts rather than brains. The kid who didn't always think beyond that minute or day. That's why he met Enrique Wilson of the New York Yankees in his hotel lounge several years ago. Manny had been ill, was absent with permission from the ballpark, but decided he was well enough to meet an old friend. This past week, he got a day off and then listened when Manager Terry Francona said he needed Manny to play. Knowing it was July and not September or October, Manny refused. Hey, Terry, you told me I had the day off. Manny is 33 going on 16. That doesn't excuse his behavior, but explains it. You're booing a teenager. Don't confuse him with Carl Everett, the former Red Sox outfielder now with the White Sox. There's no malice in Manny. Don't confuse him with Nomar Garciaparra, whose brooding presence became a major distraction last season. To brood, you have to think. A lot. What's changed? This is the same Manny who came over from Cleveland five years ago. No one has linked him with steroids or drugs. He apparently doesn't abuse alcohol. Or his wife and son. He worked to make himself into a better outfielder. Not great, but better. He hustles more, but you choose to remember the more infrequent times he doesn't run. You'll break up the best tandem of hitters in baseball. For what? Without the best right-handed bat in baseball swinging behind him, David Ortiz can see his future. It won't be as rosy. Boo Manny out of town. Sure, he said he wanted to be traded. Don't make him feel like he's wanted. Don't think he and old friend Pedro Martinez haven't been talking. You held the door open for Pedro when he left. Pedro and Nomar. Roger Clemens and Mo Vaughn. The long list goes back more than 20 years to Carlton Fisk and Rick Burleson. Is there another baseball town where fans knocked more of their heroes off the pedestals they put them on? Dan Duquette can't take all the blame. Red Sox owners have changed. General managers and managers have come and gone. The one constant in this particular exodus of fallen heroes is you. The fellowship of the miserable lives. Staff Writer Steve Solloway can be contacted at 791-6412 or at:
|
||