July 27th, 2008
Dear Mr. Ramirez,
I’ve long admired your ability to hit a baseball. In my book, you will go down as one of the most feared and productive hitters in baseball during your sixteen major league seasons (1993-present). It is impossible to argue with the .312/.409/.590 – yes that’s an career OPS of .999 – the 509 home runs and the 1667 runs batted in.
Your ability to lock in on a pitch and do with it whatever it seemed you wanted, whether it be a line drive back up the middle, drive a towering shot over the Monster, or a poke to the opposite field, had me convinced for years that nothing happened within that white-walled home you have created in the batter’s box without you crafting it to your will.
While I didn’t always appreciate the act of “Manny being Manny” and everything that surrounded it, it never turned me off to the underlying personality that I believed lay within that comical persona. Just like your baggy uniform often masks the truly athletic frame that allows you to control your swing the way that Tiger Woods controls the swing of a golf club (an almost poetic vision of balance, timing, power, and control), your outward ambivalence always seemed to mask a true determination to be the best hitter this game has ever seen.
Much like Pedro Martinez, I always felt that behind the “politics” and eccentricities lied someone whose passion for baseball was built on pure joy of playing the game. While Pedro’s fire and drive was fueled by the competitive desire to not only be the best, but to prove himself a winner at all times, your passion seemed fueled more by the wont to hit a baseball better than anyone around. It was always a more introspective passion.
I had always held onto the hope that you were, as many people have dubbed you, a hitting savant; that you took a much more intellectual approach to the game than anyone ever gave you credit for. But more than that, I held onto the belief that you were in your heart a joyful and fun loving personality, who appreciated what baseball and specifically, playing baseball in the city of Boston had given you over the years.
At least I thought.
While I don’t know that I can call into question or doubt any of the accolades and praise I have bestowed on you as a hitter over the years, and I certainly can’t call you out for your personal motives and desires as if I “know” you, I can call you out one one very significant account; giving up on the fans that supported you at every move.
Your time in Boston has run it’s course.
Time and time again, even coming into this season, I expected some ups and downs in my relationship with you as player and fan. At the end of the day however, I always expected my attachment to you as a fan of both your team and you as a personality and ballplayer to carry me through any tough times along the way. I also expected that you, the Red Sox, and the city of Boston had a symbiotic relationship. Each party was better for having the other in it’s world.
Something feels different this time around.
I’ll admit, when you were putting up 45/125 instead of 30/100, it was easy for me slough off the Manny moments. In part, I am fickle for turning on you as your skills have begun to erode. But despite the apparent erosion in your talent, until recently, I was all for an extended stay for you underneath the Green Monster. I was a proponent of picking up both club options and essentially handing you two years and $40 million. All I asked was that you respectfully take those years and that money and not tear this organization at it’s core.
I’ll also admit, that the media machine is contributing to my reaction. Should they have all taken the Michael Felger, “it’s Manny being Manny” approach this time around instead of the John Thomase-like instigating, maybe I wouldn’t be ready to cut ties with you.
But when the media swarms to the extent that they have, from local to national writers, and they all swarm in the same direction, that’s a clear signal to me that there isn’t as much grey area as there had been in the past.
When you “sucker-punched” Kevin Youkilis, we came to your defense. When you pushed down a team employee, we were ignored it and cheered for your heroics against the Twins coming into the All-Star break. And when you called out management as two-faced, many people despite a love for the current ownership, didn’t necessarily disagree.
You had built up so much “cred” with the denizens of Red Sox Nation that we were the ultimate in enablers. Like the friend who may have a drinking problem, but is so much fun to be around when they’re drinking that you don’t want them to realize it until a tragic night forces everyone to see reality, you may have added the last straw to the backs of our relationship with your handling of Friday night’s game.
Despite the outrage from many, I still wanted to enable you. But my moment of clarity came yesterday when a Yankee fan was shown at Fenway Park waving a sign proudly in the air that stated simply;
Manny, the Yankees thank you for being Manny
Here we are at a critical juncture in the season and instead of Red Sox fans appreciating you despite his “being Manny”, the enemy has finally moved past fear of your ability and into a place where they are comfortable mocking you with such authority that your fans couldn’t muster a comeback. When a jab is thrown so perfectly, sometimes you have to swallow your pride and take it.
It came to light before yesterday’s game that if you were to waive your no-trade right’s given to you as a 10/5 guy, that Theo Epstein would entertain trade offers.
I implore you to give this last bit of respect back to the team and city that enabled you over the past eight years and publicly grant Theo that wish.
While I don’t expect that a trade will be pulled off that satisfies all parties, at least give everyone the right to give it as realistic an effort as possible.
Manny, it’s with a very heavy heart that I pen this letter. I pride myself on my undying loyalty, my ability not to get sucked into the media’s swarm around a topic with so little “on the field” impact, and in general my desire to look for the best in people.
You’ve caused me to doubt all that and while I’ll root for you as long as you were the home colors of Boston, our relationship can never be the same, and that just sucks.
Formerly a fan,
Tim Daloisio