Posted: 02/28/07

Tardy to training
Red Sox slugger has earned privileges

Justin Veiga | managing editor
jveiga@smcvt.edu

The end of February typically isn’t thought of as a special time of year. Don’t get me wrong; Washington and Lincoln were a couple of extraordinary dudes. But late February just doesn’t seem to carry the same passion as mid-July. Classes are in full swing; the sky remains a constant gloomy, dark bubble overhead; and the eroding playoff hopes of the Celtics and Bruins hurt almost as bad as the frigid winds off of Lake Champlain.

But that’s Colchester, Vt. Miles away, on that beautiful peninsula deep to the south, things couldn’t be more optimistic.

It’s spring training time, baby. The enthusiasm that accompanies a new season, a fresh start, ignites brilliant sparks of hope and anticipation in the gut of every baseball fan, whether at home in Florida or huddled around the woodstove in New England. It’s time to get excited.

Well, unless of course you’re Manny Ramirez.

While everyone else on the Boston Red Sox has reported to City of Palms Park in Fort Myers on time, Ramirez remains at large. His antics — asking to sit out games, refusing to run out ground balls, requesting trades, and yes, urinating within the friendly confines of the green monster — are frequently discussed and analyzed. They add to his reputation as an individualist and a player who pays more attention to his hairstyle than to his teammates or his organization (as of now, it's braids with a few red highlights).

But it’s not like he’s relaxing or attending car shows in Atlantic City. Is he? No of course not; he’s taking care of his ailing mother. What kind of son would ditch out on mom for a chance to lie out in the sun. That just wouldn’t be right.

So while Daisuke Matsuzaka lugs around Jason Varitek’s equipment, while Julio Lugo gets those legs ready to steal 30 bases, and while David Ortiz does whatever it is that he does to remain the most dangerous hitter in the game, Ramirez is no where to be found.

And you know what I say to that?

So what?

So what if he’s not stretching and jogging with Coco Crisp? So what if he hasn’t gotten acquainted with J.D. Drew? So what if he misses out on a few fly ball drills? So what. So what. So what.

Ramirez reported to camp on Monday, Feb. 26, three days earlier than anticipated, but six days after the rest of the Sox position players arrived. But if I were Theo Epstein, if it was going to keep Ramirez happy and keep his insane offensive production up for yet another season, I’d tell him to vacation until opening day. Take a trip to Europe, write a reality TV program, learn Swahili, heck begin campaigning for the 2008 presidential election if you want. As long as you stay healthy, play at least 140 games for me, hit over .300, bash more than 30 home runs, and knock in your usual 110+ RBI, you can do whatever you want mi amigo. If behind the green monster isn’t doing it for you anymore, urinate on my desk if that’s what will keep you smiling.

My point is that Ramirez is a unique player who, due to his consistent success season after season from within the batter's box, has earned special privileges, including arriving in Fort Myers whenever he sees fit.

The cost of his antics, which are as much a part of Ramirez as the double-index-finger celebratory point, is well worth the talent that the slugger provides. If nothing else, they prove that he is an athlete who, in order to perform at his highest caliber, must be kept happy. Remember last August? Sox fans certainly don’t want to be watching a bummed out, sulking Ramirez. And if he doesn’t get what he wants, you can be sure that he’ll take his bat and talent out of the order on his own, even if Terry Francona continues to fill in “LF 24 Ramirez” in the third spot of the lineup card.