Where does Manny Ramirez get off being so lovable anyway? We had him crossed out of our little black books. We erased his number from our cell phones. We threw his stuff out onto the street.
Our relationship with Manny had soured to the point where the Red Sox putting him on irrevocable waivers last November seemed like the right move. Trade him to Texas and get Magglio Ordonez as a replacement? Sounded like a plan.
In a 2003 season that came emblazoned with the moniker "Cowboy Up", with media darlings like Kevin Millar and David Ortiz taking center stage, Manny epitomized none of that in our eyes. To us, the Sox were winning despite his sour, sulking clubhouse attitude. I believe the words "clubhouse cancer" were uttered by most anyone who had an opinion on him.
And who could blame us? In July, he tells ESPN's Joe Morgan on camera that he would love to someday play for the Yankees. Blasphemy! It took Vinny from Revere a whole 30-rack to get over that news. Then there was September, the stretch run, the Sox were playing their best ball, and there Manny is in Tampa, taking a right turn towards the dugout after grounding out as if he didn't want to be late for his play date with Ortiz. Then Red Sox manager Grady Little, in what unfortunately turned out to be his most authoritative move as manager, sat Manny for a big makeup game in Philadelphia. "He deserves it" we thought, especially after he had hung out in the Ritz Hotel bar with a couple of Yankees after a Manny-less Red Sox loss, whilst he was supposed to be bedridden with the flu. Who did he think he was?
It didn't matter that he had hit over .300, with at least 33 dingers and 100 RBI for his third straight season as a Red Sox. His enigmatic personality had not yet made him a card carrying member of Red Sox nation. You see, in Red Sox Nation, we do irrational like Starbucks does coffee. It's at the core of who we are. If we need to get riled up, there's nothing like turning on the sports stars we root for, only after hearing the story from muckraking journalists looking to make a name for themselves - It's what we do best.
But something kind of cool happened on the way to this perceived space case being run out of town. Manny arrived at spring training smiling. And he just kept smiling and smiling and smiling. He hasn't stopped. He posed for a Sports Illustrated cover looking like a six year old who had just been woken up to go to the zoo. The entire nation, not just Red Sox Nation, can be in on the fun, too.
But where are the drooping shoulders and media silence that characterized his ex-teammate, Nomar Garciaparra's, final days in Boston? While Nomar apparently went one route in reaction to almost being traded for Alex Rodriguez over the winter, Manny took the road less traveled by many professional athletes: He swallowed his pride and went to work to earn his $20 million-a-year contract. Of course, there always is the possibility that Manny didn't know he was almost traded - He could have been playing with his beloved Tonka trucks at the time the report was leaked.
This is the first time since he was newly signed sthat Manny is unquestionably loved by the vast majority of fans. There is no gray area now concerning Manny. There was a time when we would watch him hit one onto Yawkey Way, only to say to ourselves "Is he going to remember to run to first?". Everyone in New England wanted to play coach, calling into WEEI to proclaim that too many individuals - even in such a thrust-'em-one-by-one-into-the-spotlight sport like baseball - can kill a team. We wanted 25 Bill Muellers and Trot Nixons, dirt dogs who with each head-first slide and slammed helmet would show they wanted to be in Boston and nowhere else.
What we may not have fully realized at the time was that Boston is so media driven that the only reason we had a real problem with him in the first place was based on the media's portrayal of him. We saw what he did on the diamond, but in a town that revolves around its sports, 365 days a year, we want our stars to be accessible to us.
We enjoy seeing Curt Schilling hone his Boston accent. We guiltily love watching Millar swing a piece of fried chicken as if it were a bat (if you haven't seen it, you haven't lived). Because we, a very vast but still a very insecure fan base, can be easily persuaded to take a liking to a guy if he just acts like he wants to be here.
But Manny ain't acting. You can't act out 43 homers and 129 RBI - MVP numbers if ever there were any. And has anyone seen Manuel's defense this year? Besides a few noticeable Manny hiccups of the chasing butterflies variety, he has made some ridiculous plays, at least by his standards. He's patented the "slide near the foul line at Fenway" catch as well as the two handed over head point.
The point is an instant classic, something he seemingly concocted at the All-Star Home Run Derby when cheering on Ortiz. When he makes it after making those ridiculous Manny-shouldn't-be-making-that-catch plays, I feel like the point says "I had no business making that play, but you probably did". All in a day's work in what has turned out to be the Summer (now Autumn) of Manny.
Now there is nothing but fun to be had in the Club Med Red Sox clubhouse. Terry Francona is spouting clich?©s, and goofy handshakes are in abundance. And Manny is ours, pearly whites and all. We have reclaimed him, opened up our hearts to him again and given the rebirth of a relationship the best chance we know how. And it should last forev ... well, at least until the playoffs.
