Electrifying, amazing, game-changing, future Hall-of-Famer: these are all words and phrases commonly used to describe Los Angeles Dodgers left-fielder Manny Ramirez. But, instead using all of those exceedingly complimentary (and often sycophantic) adjectives, Fox analyst Tim McCarver recently chose another: despicable. Why? Well, because, in fact, the manner in which Ramirez conducted himself throughout his career in Boston, but especially in the months leading up to his trade to Los Angeles, was despicable. Yet Ramirez is neither the root of the problem nor the path to the solution; he is merely a symptom, the latest manifestation of the crumbling of the moral, ethical and honor-abiding code that sport, especially baseball, used to embody.
Let me give you a little background on Ramirez's story. Manny Ramirez is widely considered to be one of, if not the best, hitters in Major League Baseball. A quick rundown of his accomplishments: Ramirez is a 12-time all-star, nine-time Silver Slugger, has a career .593 slugging percentage (eighth all-time), and 527 career home runs, with an additional 27 in the postseason, more than any other player in MLB postseason history. With his incredible production, however, comes what most people refer to as "Manny being Manny," which includes disappearing into the Green Monster mid-inning to use his cell phone, refusing to slide on close plays, complaining about Red Sox management, and more recently, jogging out ground balls, rolling around on top of the ball in left field like a four year-old, and getting into physical altercations with both teammate Kevin Youkilis and a Red Sox press secretary.
To some extent, Manny's previous antics were acceptable, even mildly amusing. But the metaphorical line was crossed when he stopped running out ground balls or actually focusing while fielding - when he failed to show even the baseline level of respect for the game of baseball itself, or for his fellow players. I would have thought that a contract worth $20 million per year would be enough to get him out of bed every morning and do his job with some dignity.
But it doesn't stop with Manny. Long gone are heroes with true character like Jackie Robinson, Roberto Clemente, and Cal Ripken, Jr., replaced by self-involved caricatures like Ramirez, Terrell Owens, Adam "Pacman" Jones, and Chad "Ocho Cinco" Johnson. The list of torch-bearers, names like LaDainian Tomlinson, Brian Westbrook and Derek Jeter, grows frighteningly small. The sad truth is that, in today's world, the "good guys" receive no recognition, while the most entertaining and often least worthy shine in the spotlight. Nobody cares about guys like Jason Witten, who shows up to work every day and does his job right (and happens to be the best tight end in the league), and also works very hard with multiple charitable foundations. Nobody cares because he doesn't complain, he doesn't yell at his quarterback in full view of the fans, and he doesn't have any fancy end zone celebrations. Meanwhile, ESPN spends six hours a day discussing Chad Johnson's latest gimmick or the fact that T.O. wants the ball more (18 throws weren't enough?).
Players frequently drone on about how blessed they are (yeah, because God really had it in his design for you to get that big interception. Maybe he was betting the under?), yet they carry themselves with a completely undeserved sense of entitlement. It's about honor and character. It's about self-respect. And it's about respect for others. In the end, Manny is just another overpaid athlete who has been deluded into thinking that he actually deserves everything he has, and who makes an embarrassingly small effort to help others, whether through charity or simply by becoming a worthwhile role model. He embarrasses himself, he embarrasses fans of the game that he is so fortunate to play, and he represents a systemic and probably irreversible compromise of many of the sacred values that sport is supposed to represent.
But we cannot absolve ourselves of blame. It is we who continue to cheer for players like Ramirez, Owens and Ocho Cinco. It is we who so easily forget their past sins solely to embrace their on-field accomplishments. And, ultimately, it is our values and the values of those not yet old enough to understand things like honor and dignity, those who are so easily shaped by the sports figures of the day, that are destroyed by our undying and indiscriminate applause.
Pat Davis '10 is microwaving some popcorn and watching "Rudy" tonight.
