Does assaulting a club employee fall under the umbrella of Manny Being Manny?
The newest addition to the bizarre chapter of Boston Red Sox history known as The Manny Ramirez Era was a disgraceful one, worse than any of his previous transgressions during his eight years with the club. Ramirez turned nasty during a clubhouse scuffle on Saturday, shoving Red Sox traveling secretary Jack McCormick to the ground in an argument over Manny's ticket request.
Ramirez wanted 16 tickets to Saturday's game in Houston, an unusually large number considering that Boston was on the road and the game was sold out. Pink Hat Nation isn't shy about going on the road to follow the Red Sox, making them one of baseball's top drawing cards home or away, and they gobbled up all the extra seats that Astros' fans usually leave empty at Minute Maid Park. McCormick, a longtime Red Sox employee, informed Ramirez that he might have some trouble rounding up that many seats, angering Ramirez to the point where he screamed 'Just do your job!' at McCormick and shoved him to the ground.
This should be the last straw as far as Ramirez's future with the Red Sox is concerned. His other faults have been tolerated for far too long in Boston, much like a puppy that pees on the living room rug, but Ramirez shoving a senior citizen to the ground over a detail as small as tickets should clearly illustrate what happens when childish behavior turns violent.
Or have we forgotten about Ramirez's tendency to show up late to spring training and struggle during the season's opening months? What about his maddening streak of September shutdowns due to various injuries caused by being dreadfully out of shape? The constant trade demands? The crying over the size of the clubhouse? The refusal to run out ground balls?
Let's focus on this demand -- Ramirez wants his two option years picked up on the back end of his eight-year, $160-million deal. The initial contract ends this year, and the option years are worth $20 million each. The Red Sox should use this incident, along with the catalogue of others that have dotted Ramirez's brilliance at the plate, to cut ties with a player who can barely move in the outfield anymore and will be a glorified designated hitter by the time 2010 and his 38th birthday roll around. Boston already has a guy who does nothing but hit, and David Ortiz isn't going anywhere.
The Astros had a similar problem last week and made the correct move, dumping starting pitcher Shawn Chacon after he attacked general manager Ed Wade. Chacon was angry over being dropped from the rotation and demanded a trade, something that didn't sit well with Wade after Chacon earned no decisions in each of his first nine starts this year and was generally woeful. Ramirez can't be spared simply because he is a Hall of Fame-caliber hitter. What message does that send to McCormick and the rest of the club's employees? What if Ramirez had taken out his frustrations on This Manager or Theo Epstein? Would his penalty be considerably more stiff than an apology (which McCormick graciously accepted), and isn't that a dangerous double standard? Can other players start taking liberties with McCormick if they don't like the fact that their abnormal requests have to be rejected sometimes? Let's hope we never have to answer any of these questions. There's one simple way to ensure these scenarios never play themselves out, and it involves finding a new Red Sox leftfielder.
