Moment 5.5: A High Five for the Ages.

A personally relevant joke: There are three kinds of people in the world: Those who can count and those who can't.

May 14. Boston at Baltimore.



It was certainly a fabulous play. Fourth inning. Runners at first and second, one out. A long drive to left field off the bat of Kevin Millar. Seemingly gone or, at least, off the wall. Instead, the ball is intercepted in an over-the-shoulder catch by Manny, relayed to Pedroia, tossed to Youkilis and Aubrey Huff is doubled up.



But the gem of the play was the brief time before Manny returned the ball to the infield. He was carried up the seven foot wall by a force known only to Manny Ramirez, reached out, and high-fived a fan. And then returned to the dugout absolutely delighted with himself.



This was Manny at his Manny-est and deserving of spot 5.5.

Moment 8: 500.

May 31. Red Sox at Baltimore.

Manny Ramirez is a lot of things. He's self-centered. He's immature. He's generally oblivious. But if you can ignore all of these things, he's a hell of a batter.

Manny left Boston in a huff; there's no doubt that it left a sour taste in some people's mouths. But Manny never did anything quietly. His time in Boston was consistently a bumpy road: trade demands every July, occasional air-headed plays, and less-than-stellar behavior. His presence was also vital to two World Series championships.

His 500th homerun wasn't quiet either. It was a 410 shot to right center. It included a happy Dominican bounce. It was before things got really bad and it's a good memory.

Mystery Solved.

So, curious about Manny's new found speed? Desperate to find out the reason his balky knees suddenly went un-balky? Turns out, the answer-the way to fix Manny Ramirez-was under our noses the entire time. Navajo magic.

I'm Okay.

Finally, I'm okay. Yesterday was not so good. Intellectually, I knew that it was time to let Manny Ramirez go. I spent all day trying to come to terms with the inevitable. I wrote a little tribute to him to help with the grief. I braced myself as well as I could. Then the news came down and it still managed to be a sickening blow.

Today, mostly, didn't go well either. The mere thought of Manny not being in left field made me teary-eyed. I read The Dugout at work this morning and was pretty close to sobbing. When I got home from work, Michael was playing some baseball video game and when the Manny character came up to bat? Waterworks.

I was pretty reluctant to watch his presser this evening. But I did it and it made things better. Happy Manny is back and I love Happy Manny. Manny is alright, so I can be alright. Regardless of how Lou Merloni thinks I should feel, I loved Manny. I spent so much time defending, protecting, and trying my damnedest to encourage him through the television screen, that he was like my baby. If Manny's good, then I can deal with it. Then I saw the photo. And somehow, the idea of Manny in high-socks made being better/able-to-deal morph into actually being okay.

Say It Ain't So.

The thought of Manny leaving the Red Sox really bums me out. I hadn't realized how attached I was to the loon until tonight. The idea of him leaving is ridiculously upsetting. For all his quirks and crappy defense, he is a truly fabulous hitter. I wanted Manny to surpass Ted Williams in Fenway Park. That he might end up playing in a football stadium for a team named after fish is belittling to his cult-hero status. Manny Ramirez deserves better than that. (I know that the Marlins are up there with the Phillies and the Mets this year and that they've won the World Series more recently than either of those teams but come on now, baseball teams aren't supposed to be named after fish.)

Part of me wants to believe that it's not really happening. Theo Epstein seems to work under the radar. You hear nothing and then-boom-it's done; Nomar is gone, Daisuke is in. All of the noise makes me want to believe that it's some kind of ploy. The Pittsburgh press is all over Bay going to the Rays. And yet, I can't convince myself that he'll still be here the day after tomorrow.

And all because of the odious Scott Boras. Flashback to spring training: Happy, go-lucky Manny shows up on time, declares that he's going to get six more years, and have his number retired at Fenway. Jovial Manny has a fabu time in Japan, is on an absolute tear when they get back-getting hits, stealing bases, throwing out runners, says that he intends to win a Gold Glove this season, and when Ortiz is struggling tells everyone: It'll be okay. I'll hit for him. Then he switches agents and it all falls apart. Somewhere along the line his feelings get hurt and Boras is there, poking at the sore spot like a bruise-preventing it from healing. It builds. Manny acts out. And the Manny-haters in the media (and there are a lot of them: practically anyone at the Globe, Peter Gammons, Jerry Remy, Bob Ryan) pile on. The situation goes from bad to worse and as a result, the Red Sox are probably going to let one of the best hitters in the game go for a song. All so that Scott Boras can get his greedy little fingers on some extra cash.

Fiesta!

Last night Univision sponsored the first annual Tecate Premios Deportes, a Spanish-language awards show for the best Hispanic athletes. From the Charo act it looked to be quite the party.

Unfortunately, for David Ortiz and Manny (both of whom were honored) they had to play a baseball game in Boston and couldn't collect their awards. David Ortiz was awarded the best Designated Hitter award. I imagine that it wasn't much of a competition and that he won in a landslide as his competition was Jose Vidro *blink* and Sammy Sosa *double blink*. Manny, meanwhile, was given the award for best outfielder-which seems to me to be a bit of a stretch. Mike Lowell was the only other Sox player nominated but, once again, he lost out to Alex Rodriguez.

Manny Needed That.

The smile says it all.

Maybe, he was getting a little antsy on the road; his thighs were bugging him, things weren't working the way he wanted them to, he couldn't figure out how to fix the problem, frustration was setting in (and spilling out), and he was becoming unhappy. An unhappy Manny is both a strange and unpleasant sight. Then he got back home, re-centered himself, got his feet back beneath him and figured it out.

Last night, he got a single to drive in the winning run. Tonight, he launched a game-tying, two-run home run over the monster. And a cheer rose throughout the land celebrating the return of Manny. Hopefully, he hangs around for awhile.

So, Uh, When it Rains? It Pours.

So Coco started off the second inning of tonight's game by picking a fight with the Rays pitcher. After being hit by the second pitch he saw, Coco charged the mound. Watching Coco it seemed pretty clear that he probably spent some time in the gym with his dad (why you would throw a punch at someone who's father had been a boxer is beyond me. I suppose he might not have known.)

Shields threw a weirdo, over-the-top, lazy, probably pretty ineffective (had it landed) punch, which Coco bobbed-I'm going to guess that Shields doesn't have all that much experience throwing a punch, especially given the fact that he used his pitching hand. Coco answered with an ill-placed roundhouse that seemed to clip Shields' shoulder. The catcher (Navarro) tackled him and then a couple of extraneous Rays jumped on top (Crawford, Gomes, and Iwamura) and started pummeling him.

To hear Coco tell it, however, they were fighting like "little girls", scratching at him and pulling his hair. From his post-game interview, he seemed to find the whole thing very amusing; which leads me to believe that he's been in some real fights in his time. He's always struck me as more deserving of the "scrappy" descriptor than Pedroia, anyway. Every time he comes up to bat he looks like a five-year-old ruffian. If you take away his toys, he's going to come at you fists flying; even if you put your hand on his forehead to keep him back, he'll keep trying to land a punch.

In all likelihood, he's looking at a ten-game suspension. As much as I love Coco, it wouldn't have been too horrible. But then the fourth inning happened.

In the fourth inning, Ellsbury made a beautiful diving catch to get the first out. Unfortunately, in the process of doing so he seemed to roll his wrist over. They did x-rays to determine that nothing was broken. It was announced as a sprained wrist but all that means is that it hurts like a sonofabitch but nothing appeared to be structurally wrong with it. They intend to do more testing tomorrow to figure out what exactly is wrong.

And then the weirdest thing happened between the fourth and the fifth innings. In the dugout, Manny took a swipe at Youk. Youkilis seemed absolutely utterly, confused by the whole incident. No indication from anyone what it was about, with Francona only saying in his presser that it had been taken care of. Indeed, when Manny came out of the game in the seventh, he and Youkilis shared a fist-bump.

The last unpleasant moment of the evening came in the seventh inning. Manny was the first to bat in the Sox half of the inning and watched most of the pitches thrown at him sail by. After one of those pitches sailed by, he shook out his right leg and Francona came jogging over. They left him in the game until he had drawn a walk but perhaps his hamstring is worse than they've let on. Anyway, Cash ran for Manny and really looked adorably perplexed that he was being asked to DH.

The Legend of Manny Ramirez.

Like Cher (or Lou and Eddie), Manny needs only one name. He's not known by the name he wears on his jersey: he's not a Jeter or a Soriano, he's not a Beckett or a Sheffield. He doesn't go by a nickname: he's not an A-Rod or a K-Rod or a Big Papi. He's just Manny. Manny as Manny isn't just in the northeast, either-throughout baseball, a ballplayer being referred to as Manny is our Manny. (Ichiro does go by his given name but that's more probably due to a cultural misunderstanding and the fact that he wears it on his back-leading non-Japanese speaking Americans to believe that it's his family name.)

Names like Alex or Derek or Jason or Jorge don't carry any special significance. If you were to talk about Derek's poor defense or Alex striking out, it wouldn't be clear who you were talking about. (If you were to further expound on the topic and describe the ball that just got past the glove of the diving Derek-Which is really hard to say. Try it.-and rolled into the outfield or how Alex struck out with the bases loaded to end the inning, the game, and the ninth-inning rally, then it becomes a little more clear who you're talking about.)

But Manny? "Manny's headed back but he's not going to make it as the ball drops in for a basehit." That's our Manny. "Manny draws a walk with the bases loaded to walk in a run." That's our Manny. And to channel my inner Don Orsillo: "Manny hits one to deep left. High. Far. Gone!" That's our Manny. Any other Manuels in baseball just have to find something else to be called-Manny is taken.

Part of it, and maybe a large part of it, is due to his personality. His sometimes lackadaisical play in left field leads some to believe that he doesn't try. His appearance (the baggy uniform and the long dreads) leads some to declare that he doesn't respect the game-whatever that means. The fact that he doesn't usually flip out after he strikes out leads some to say that he doesn't care. None of it is true. Manny does work hard. Manny does care. And Manny (I cringe inwardly as I write this) may have a better grasp of reality than a lot of baseball fans.

Baseball is a game. Games are supposed to be fun. Ergo, he is going to do his damnedest to have a good time out there. And so, yeah, you get the sometimes air-headed defense, the demands to be traded, an hours long blooper reel, and a self-centered (though, seemingly, not self-involved) left-fielder who operates best on his own schedule and in his own little world. But you also get 501 career homeruns (not including the 24 he's hit in the post-season), 2 World Series Championships, a career batting average of .312, and a career OPS+ of 154. It's a trade-off and probably a pretty fair one at that. Say what you will about Manny Ramirez (and a lot has been said) but the man can be counted on to hit the ball well.

So congratulations to Manny on his achievement; onward and upward and all that. And may Manny never stop being Manny.

Happy Birthday Manny!

Happy 36th birthday to Manny Ramirez. Perhaps he's a bit of a misunderstood soul but I really don't understand how anyone could dislike Manny Ramirez. He loves to play the game and he loves to have fun playing the game (and yes, he does occasionally have what amounts to a temper tantrum) but he's great fun to watch. And this? This is awesome.

I hope his old buddy Millar took him out for a drink last night to celebrate. I hope that he continues to just do his thing. And I hope that he has many more happy birthdays ahead of him.

Congratulations Manny!

Tonight marked the 2000th game in which Manny Ramirez has played major league baseball. From the little kid from the Bronx sporting Fresh Prince hair to well...Manny, he has lived up to his potential as one of the premier hitters of the game. Throughout his career he's always seemed to have his eccentricities and minor hissy-fits if things weren't exactly the way he wanted them to be, but out of the gate this season he seems to have realized exactly who and what he is. So here's to many more games, many more homeruns over the monster, and many more Manny moments.

Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?

Okay, so it's probably totally irresponsible but damn it, it made me smile then (and continues to make me smile after that crappy loss) so I'm going to enjoy it.

Manuel Aristides Ramirez, I Love You.

On the Sox website there was an article about Manny and the Quest for 500 Home Runs. I wouldn't normally bother to say anything about it but there was a quote that was just too wonderful to let fall by the wayside.

"I'm already [at 500.] So if it's not in my future I could stop playing today. I'm already there. But, you know something? My Hall of Fame is not baseball. It's my kids. Like I always say, I want to see them go to college, go to a bar with them and drink a beer. That's what I want to do. That's my goal.

"Baseball? Baseball is just a game. I could care less about the game. I like to play. I like to compete. But it's just a game to me that I come to work and play in. But my main goal is that I want to do that for my kids. I try to stay home but, you know, when I don't have [baseball], I could be the same guy. I'm not trying to get a big head or just hit home runs -- blah, blah, blah. Because I'm going to leave, and the game [is] always going to stay there.

"It's like Cal Ripken, when he was with the Orioles. Everybody [said], 'Oh, Cal Ripken, Cal Ripken, blah, blah, blah.' He retired, then Miguel Tejada came. They forgot about [Ripken] and it was, 'Tejada, Tejada.' You know? That's part of the game. You got to understand that. Enjoy it while you can."

and he ended the interview with:

"But I'm still mad, though. I said I was going to hit 500 home runs last month, and I didn't do it. But, I know, I know. I got five more months to do it."

Manny Being Generous

I love this team. That is all. (I imagine that Pesky must be congratulating him in this picture.)

Manny Ramirez, no. 24

Birth Date: May 30, 1972 in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

Height/Weight: 6'0", 190 lbs.

Contract: 8 years at $160 million (through 2008)

Manny Ramirez had a down year last season and yet, it was still extremely impressive. His Batting Average was a very good .296. He had 143 hits; 33 of them were doubles, 1 was a triple, and 20 home runs. He scored 84 runs and batted in 88. He Struck Out 92 times (19%) and Walked 71 times (14%). He had 8 Sacrifice Flies. He was Intentionally Walked 13 times and Hit By a Pitch 7 times. All of which contributed to an On Base Percentage of .388 and a Slugging average of .493. His On base Plus Slugging was a very respectable .881 (it was his lowest OPS since his rookie year.)

He played 120 games in left field last season. He had 182 Put Outs and 8 Assists but was charged with 2 Errors. He has a reputation as a lazy outfielder but his Fielding Percentage last season was .990, a little above the league average of .985. His Range Factor, which is used to determine the amount of field a player covers, holds up his reputation. His Range Factor per 9 Innings was 1.72, when the league average was 2.11.

He has a reputation as a bit of a space cadet. He seems self-centered (he does what he wants without regard to what is expected from him) but not in a malicious way. He's just sort of oblivious. He's an eccentric and let's just leave it at that.

Manny is probably in an age-related decline. He missed twenty-odd games at the end of last season because of a strained left oblique muscle. That being said, he has apparently spent the winter getting into great shape. With the plate discipline he has displayed in the past, if he shows up to spring training in excellent shape, then he could have a monster season next year.

Has Anyone Seen my Underwear?

"Bidders Batty for Manny's BVDs" so read the headline on The Boston Herald's Inside Track. My first thought: Good God! What is he up to now?

Turns out that it is not, in fact, Manny selling his underwear but a memorabilia store employee (hopefully the owner, I wouldn't want to be given that assignment by my boss), Phil Castinetti. It seems that Phil dug through the trash at Fenway to retrieve his prizes. In addition to Manny's underwear and do-rag, he netted Tek's, Matt Clement's, Okajima's, Youkilis', and Papelbon's underwear, as well. Maybe ol' Phil is less squeamish than I am but I've got to assume that these are unwashed, caked in dry sweat, and probably reek pretty badly.

Manny's hand-me-down underwear earned Phil $160. Tek's brought in $255. Weirdly, a pair of Matt Clement's underwear (perhaps because it was in the most pristine condition: the least sweaty and smelly) is worth $430 to someone; someone who happens to go by the handle: Clement30.

Manny and Ortiz do late night

So Manny was on the Tonight Show last night. I'll admit that I was nervous for him, given that he doesn't really talk to the media but he did alright (though I suppose Leno wasn't going to attack him and try to make him look bad). They talked about the state of sport in Boston, cars, Manny got off a couple of chin jokes, and "Manny being Manny." And he got to fist bump a very bemused looking Steve Carell.

Then David Ortiz showed up on Conan, wearing a jacket that he could easily have bedazzled himself. He was his usual amusing self. They talked about where "Big Papi" comes from, Halloween, the importance of re-signing Mike Lowell. The most amusing thing, in a very entertaining interview, was that apparently David Ortiz tells the media at the end of a presser to "go home and get some ass."