Perfect Hollywood Marriage: Manny and Dodgers

With no better evidence than dreadlocks, a skullcap, a chubby belly, a No. 99 jersey and a uniquely goofy grin, Manny Ramirez is a lovable lunkhead, a cartoon character, a klutz and a moody cuss. He's also maybe the best right-handed hitter of his generation, which might explain why I can't stay mad at the dude very long, hard as I try. Some places are more conducive than others to hosting a daily extravaganza such as Manny Being Manny.

Boston was uptight, filled with too many die-hards who clutch rosaries, live and die on every pitch, obsess over the Yankees and prefer keeping score to drinking beer. Philly and New York wouldn't work, either, not when the fans are crazier than Ramirez himself. And don't suggest Wrigley Field, where he'd lose himself in the ivy and never return.

In L.A., though, they get Manny.

And they absolutely love him, to the point that I wouldn't be surprised if the HOLLYWOOD sign suddenly becomes MANNYWOOD should Ramirez and the Dodgers have another magical season. At a time when sports never has been more scandalous and so damned serious, he has a way of lightening the mood while producing insanely unstoppable stretches of slugging, none better than his blurry run -- .396, 17 home runs, 53 RBI, 36 runs scored, 74 hits, 35 walks -- in the mere 53 games necessary to lead the Dodgers to the National League West title. He followed with more sickness in the playoffs -- .520, four homers, 10 RBI, nine runs and 11 walks in eight games -- but couldn't beat the Phillies by himself. I list those numbers because they are unprecedented in a brief, pennant-race context, even more imposing when you consider Ramirez showed up cold in a new league and town and made a decent two-month case that he should be Most Valuable Player.

Like automobiles and pavement, Sunset Boulevard and the paparazzi, there was no better match for Ramirez this offseason than Dodger Stadium. And his reputation as a blithering idiot in his previous baseball life -- he and the Red Sox divorced after he quit on his team, faked injuries, fought Kevin Youkilis in the dugout and pushed a 64-year-old traveling secretary to the ground in a ticket ruckus -- discouraged other franchises from investing mammoth sums in a mean economy on a disruptive clubhouse element. As time passed, Ramirez's goal of a $100-million contract over four years shrunk to whatever the Dodgers and owner Frank McCourt wanted to give him. Except for light interest by the division rival San Francisco Giants, no one else was into Manny Being Manny, leaving the Dodgers to bid against themselves and his ego. So, with his dreads tucked between his legs, Ramirez and his uncompromising agent, Scott Boras, had to compromise or stay home for the summer.


Not that anyone in 2009 will feel sorry for his two-year, $45-million deal, with the second year voidable in November once he pockets $10 million this season and realizes that deferred money through 2012 isn't a horrible thing. Let it be a lesson that no matter how well a man swings a bat, his behavior issues might cost him tens of millions. But in Manny's case, who really cares about money and the fact his contract is a laughable pittance compared to that of Alex Rodriguez, who has zero championship rings to Ramirez's two and a whole lot fewer big hits in the postseason? What's important is that he has found his way home again. That quickly, baseball is replenished by one its three best ongoing story lines, the others being the endless drama of A-Rod and the Yankees and whether the Chicago Cubs can make this year any different than the previous 100.

"I'm happy to be here. We got some unfinished business, and that's why I'm here," said Ramirez, showing no signs of contract-related bitterness Wednesday when he spoke to a TV station.

"We're close to getting Manny on the field, and I think he's basically chomping at the bit to get the uniform on," manager Joe Torre said. "I couldn't have been more pleased with how excited he was -- just the prospect of getting back on the field again."

All Manny ever wanted, like the rest of us, was love. He found it in L.A., where they want to be entertained as much as they want to win. Starved for a free spirit in an organization known for tradition and dignity, the fans melted in his infectious enthusiasm and crowded concession stands and stores for replica dreadlock bandannas. Ramirez needs three years to grow out his dreads to full length, but in the stands at storied Chavez Ravine, he was amazed to watch people taking their seats with their own dreads. In Boston, he grew tired of the psychosis of Red Sox Nation and couldn't stand the media micro-scrutinizing every issue. That's no justification to quit and stop running out groundballs, but in his three months in L.A., we saw how Ramirez can produce and how much fun he'll have if he's happy with his environment. He'll speak soon enough at a news conference, always a treat, but in a chat earlier this week with Los Angeles Times columnist/agitator T.J. Simers, he made it clear why Southern California is paradise after Boston was anathema.

"It's still Boston. It's always, 'He's this and he's that.' Move on," Ramirez said. "I left Boston. Did I quit while winning two World Series in Boston? You think you can hit 500 home runs quitting? I know how people treated me in L.A.. And I want to thank them."

Oh, he could flip out for any reason in L.A., including freeway traffic. But when Ramirez mentions unfinished business, he's showing he has a championship bug, which is impressive. That tells me his Manny Being Manny quotient may be at an all-time low, though antics in the outfield don't count. Winning with the Dodgers, of course, would be his way of trumping the Red Sox, who lost to the remarkable Tampa Bay Rays in the American League Championship Series while the Dodgers were losing to the eventual World Series champion Phillies in the NLCS. The Red Sox may be more stable without Ramirez, but they aren't nearly as potent. "I miss him," admits David Ortiz, whose power numbers drooped without Manny in the order to protect him.

Another factor: Dodgers management has a way of pacifying Ramirez, even when he didn't get nearly the financial package he desired. The verbal war between McCourt and Boras was so intense and protracted, you wondered if California would fall into the sea. But pushed by Ramirez, Boras told McCourt on the phone Monday night that he wanted to break bread and do business. And McCourt, no dummy, knew it was silly to let any Boras grudge get in the way of Ramirez sparking his franchise again on and off the field. It speaks volumes for both sides that they would meet at the crack of dawn, 6 AM, and spend three hours at the owner's Malibu home hashing out a deal. In the end, Ramirez's joy to be a Dodger won out over money, pride and hubris. It also helps to have Torre, a veteran of crisis management at Yankee Stadium, blowing kisses toward Manny and always playing the good-cop role.


"There was not one uncomfortable moment," Dodgers general manager Ned Colletti said of the meeting. "It was more designed to put the personality back into the picture instead of just the negotiations. Manny seemed very happy and excited about the possibility, and I thought it was very good."

"We are thrilled that Manny wants to be a Dodger and that he has made such a tremendous commitment to the Los Angeles community," McCourt said. "We witnessed something very special last year in the way that our fans connected with him and the manner in which the team came together. Now, we focus our complete and undivided attention on our primary goal, winning a world championship."

Are the Dodgers good enough to win it all? If Ramirez has an MVP season, they are. He'll be accompanied by a talented everyday lineup that includes emerging young hitters James Loney, Andre Ethier and Matt Kemp; third baseman Casey Blake; a new second baseman in Orlando Hudson; and, if healthy, a fine leadoff hitter in Rafael Furcal. Russell Martin might be an elite catcher. Jonathan Broxton is an intimidating closer. The problem is that they no longer have a deep, talented rotation, with Chad Billingsley, Hiroki Kuroda and Clayton Kershaw in the top three spots when ideally they'd be the 2-3-4 starters.

If the Dodgers fall short, Ramirez has an option to leave after the season and pursue free-agent riches, albeit at 37. But where would he go? And why would he leave? With 527 career homers, he has personal ambitions to achieve, as he told the Times in the interview. "Understand me, I have goals. I know that if I play six more years, I could get my 3,000th hit and, who knows, maybe my 700th home run," he said.

Six more years of Manny? Hey, as long as the smile is on that class-clown face and he's running to first base instead of sulking, the man could hit big-league pitching until he's 50. For now, let's just enjoy him in his prime. Not only is he the best show in baseball, he might be the best in Hollywood.

I mean, Mannywood.