Dodgers' Manny Ramirez knows how to have fun -- and win
DODGERS
Possibly as important as all the home runs and RBIs was the attitude the slugger brought to the Dodgers.
Dodger Stadium has turned into the capital of Mannywood in two short months, the ballpark taken over by a cartoon character of a superstar who wears a loose-fitting uniform and helmet that always seems to fly off his head to expose a set of bouncing dreadlocks.
He has sold jerseys and he has sold tickets. He has made grown men wear wigs. And when he steps into the batter's box, chants of "M-V-P!" are heard through the stands.
What Manny Ramirez said he thought would be a two-month vacation has turned into something far more significant, providing a face to a faceless franchise and delivering hope to the tortured fans of a club that has won only one playoff game in the last two decades.
"I never thought I was going to come here and have a big impact in L.A.," the 36-year-old Ramirez said.
Acquired on July 31 in a three-way trade with the Boston Red Sox and Pittsburgh Pirates, the 12-time All-Star hit .396 with 17 home runs and 53 runs batted in over his 53 games with the Dodgers, becoming only the second player to drive in 50 runs in both leagues in the same season. (Carlos Beltran was the first in 2004.)
The Dodgers were 54-55 without him in their otherwise power-deprived lineup and 30-23 with him.
Asked if the Dodgers would've won the NL West without Ramirez, Manager Joe Torre replied, "Probably not."
"I used to think that one hitter couldn't make such a profound impact on a team," closer Takashi Saito said. "But watching him, I've changed my opinion. He's changed the way I think about baseball."
Ramirez's new teammates said they had no idea what to expect when he moved into their clubhouse.
Andre Ethier said he knew Ramirez was a pleasant person and hard worker because they'd worked out together last winter at the Athletes' Performance Institute in Arizona, but he also was aware of the reputation he'd developed in Boston as a strange-behaving malcontent. There were tales of his inexplicably cutting off a relay throw, disappearing into the Green Monster at Fenway Park during a pitching change and forcing the Red Sox to trade him.
Derek Lowe knew better, only because he and Ramirez were teammates in Boston. Of how Ramirez's oddball antics became major news stories, Lowe said, "If he plays in a different market, I bet a lot of things go unnoticed. It's such a media-crazed city that they know everything you do on and off the field."
