Frank McCourt, Scott Boras playing dangerous game

Stop it, both of you.

Put down those egos. Unclench that pride. Get up off the arrogance.

Stop it, now, or both of you will lose, and the price of this defeat will be far higher than anything being negotiated.

After a winter of slings and arrows, one thing has become outrageously unfortunate.

The biggest obstacles to Manny Ramirez's being a Dodger are the two guys trying to make him a Dodger.

It is physically impossible for Frank McCourt and Scott Boras to draw up a contract with their hands on each other's necks.

Having spoken with both of them Friday, it is clear that this has become about kicking and screaming instead of dollars and cents.

They are angry with each other. They are wary of each other. They have been reduced to stalking each other, right here in this newspaper, black and white and red all over.

One is a learning owner fighting for turf, the other is a legendary agent trying to protect his turf, yet right now they are two Mannys being Manny.

They are both right. They are both wrong. They are throwing roundhouses at each other, yet the only ones being punched are -- surprise -- the fans.

The current fissure started with Thursday night's Dodgers news release in which McCourt announced that not only had Boras rejected his latest offer but, well, the guy is sort of a jerk.

The real story behind the release?

McCourt had asked Boras for a final "yes" or "no" answer to a two-year, $45-million deal that was about $45 million above any other real offer elsewhere . . . and Boras responded with a $55-million proposal.

After spending three months with zero leverage, is it really that productive to counter your opponent's most fair and generous offer with something $10 million higher?

Smart McCourt, silly Boras.

But, aha, there was a real story behind the response.

Boras claims his counteroffer was compensating for the fact that the Dodgers' offer was actually five seasons' worth of deferred salaries with no interest, beginning with $10 million next season, far below the $25-million salary the Dodgers seemingly promised.

This was news. This should not have been news. No, the Dodgers never lied about this, they always said there were deferred payments involved, but, c'mon.

When $45 million is spread over five years with no interest, it's not really $45 million, is it? The Dodgers can't be only partially transparent. Not disclosing the exact nature of a deferred contract, particularly in these tough economic times that the Dodgers discuss so much, smacks of being a bit of a public scam.