Sheldon Ocker on the Indians
Manny leaves his heart in Cleveland
Good-natured and fun with the Indians, Ramirez becomes different person after leaving town
By Sheldon Ocker
Beacon Journal sports writer
POSTED: 08:00 a.m. EDT, Apr 17, 2011
I was walking through the Indians' clubhouse one day in the late '90s, and suddenly someone jumped me from behind, as if he had decided to ride me piggyback. Almost before I could turn to see who it was, Manny Ramirez slid off and smiled as he walked past me.
That was the Manny Ramirez I came to know for the eight years he spent with the Indians. Just Manny being Manny.
I never knew him to utter a cross word (well, maybe once), nor to my knowledge did he ever express his displeasure or play the prima donna by refusing to take the field or demanding special privileges.
Manny was all about having fun playing a game. He teased his teammates, and they responded in kind. If something caught his attention in someone's locker — a shirt, a bat, a glove — he would take it. If a player was missing an item, he would retrieve it in Manny's locker.
No hard feelings. Manny just forgot to return what he borrowed. Almost every day, he borrowed the pants of hefty coaching assistant Dan Williams. Manny loved to wear the pants — about eight sizes bigger than his own — for batting practice.
Manny didn't seem to have a mean bone in his body. He did become angry once in he was being disrespected. Except for that incident, Manny didn't create much heat in the clubhouse.
Even now, it is difficult for me to refer to him by his last name in print, even though that is the form usually required by the rules of editing.
When he signed as a free agent with the Boston Red Sox, Manny became someone I didn't know. He never wanted to leave Cleveland. And it didn't take long before he started calling his pal, utility infielder Enrique Wilson, plus a few other friends to say Boston was not for him and that he missed the Indians.
Of course, by then it was too late. I don't know if Manny ever made peace with his decision (really the decision of his agent, Jeff Moorad) to take the Red Sox's money. But Manny was never the same.
Maybe it was the increased media scrutiny or the strange surroundings and new teammates. Maybe someone got in his ear (Manny was easily manipulated) and told him he needed to start acting like the celebrity he had become. Maybe it was just the enormous piles of cash he was making. At any rate, by the time the Red Sox cut their ties with him, they had seen enough of Manny acting like a spoiled rock star.
His occasional lack of hustle angered management and the media. He asked to be traded in 2005 and 2006. He got in a shoving match with Kevin Youkilis and in a fit of anger, he knocked down 62-year-old traveling secretary Jack McCormick.
The day before the Sox traded Manny to the Los Angeles Dodgers, he told ESPNdeportes, ''The Red Sox don't deserve a player like me.''
Who is this guy? He's not the Manny Ramirez who leaped on my back. He's not the player who innocently said after hitting a home run with a bat he knew was cracked, ''I just like that bat.''
Then there was the issue of performance enhancers. He was suspended for 50 games as a Dodger in 2009 for using a banned substance. He failed another drug test in spring training and decided to retire rather than face a 100-game suspension.
''I'm at ease,'' Manny told ESPNdeportes. ''I'll be going on a trip to Spain with my old man,'' as if he were heading out on spring break rather than ending an 18-year career as one of the best hitters who ever played the game.
The New York Times reported that Manny also failed a drug test in 2003, when Major League Baseball was trying to determine how many players were using steroids. The results of those tests were supposed to be kept secret.
His violation two years ago stemmed from a failed test for human chorionic gonadotropin. I doubt that Manny would know what you were talking about if you mentioned the name of that drug. But I have no doubt he used it.
It is a female fertility drug that can be used by males to restart their production of testosterone when they are coming off steroids. So do we conclude that Manny was using steroids and wanted to stop? Seems logical.
We don't know the basis for his recent failed drug test, except that it was for a banned performance-enhancing substance rather than amphetamines.
Why would a player risk his reputation and a long suspension when he knew he would be tested periodically, particularly a player who had been caught once and would be tested more often than the norm? That part is still Manny being Manny.
Anyway, what's done is done. Manny has trashed his legacy and what remained of his career. His hall of fame credentials are impeccable, except for the minor detail of running afoul of MLB's drug policy.
A few samples of Manny's excellence with a bat are in order. On baseball's all-time list, he is ninth in slugging percentage and OPS (on-base plus slugging), 13th in extra-base hits, 14th in home runs, 16th in on-base percentage, 18th in RBI and 24th in doubles.
And he is first in one distinctly negative category. If Manny hadn't retired, he would be the only player ever suspended twice for using performance-enhancing drugs, and that prospective ranking probably will deny him entrance to the hall of fame.
Does Manny care? I'm not sure he does. Manny's priority never seemed to be recognition. He had a good time and made a lot of money. Maybe that's enough for him. Not that he has a choice as to whether he will be elected to the hall.
As for me, I won't vote for Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmeiro, Roger Clemens and maybe a few others. I don't see how I can vote for Manny, either.
But I will forever wonder if he would have fallen on his sword had he stayed in Cleveland. One other thing: He always will be Manny to me.
Sheldon Ocker can be reached at
socker@thebeaconjournal.com. Read the Indians blog at
http://www.ohio.com/tribematters. Follow the Indians on Twitter at
http://www.twitter.com/ABJ_Indians.