[h1]GOLD: In Mannywood, Ramirez's sins are forgiven[/h1]
By Jon Gold, Special to the Daily News
Updated: 07/16/2009 11:43:08 PM PDT
Someday, maybe Dodgers fans will spit out the Kool-Aid, rip off their dreadlocks, burn their No. 99 jerseys and curse Manny Ramirez's name.
Maybe they will look back at May 8, 2009, as the day Ramirez tarnished the clear Dodger Blue, scuffed up the aura that Sandy Koufax and Maury Wills and Orel Hershiser helped to build.
Maybe they will care that a great player used a performance-enhancing drug to get even greater, that 37 home runs was just not enough, certainly not 38 home runs, and that the game was worse off for it.
Maybe that will happen.
But not on Thursday.
"That's why we're here, to support him," said Mike Cerna of Los Angeles, one of four "Manny Maniacs" - decked out in Ramirez shirts, black-and-blue dreadlocks and bandanas - sitting in the left-field pavilion known as Mannywood. "It's not about the steroids. He's a man. He's just a man. We're not tripping. The whole decade has changed baseball. I'm not surprised if tomorrow, Albert Pujols got busted.
"I'm not surprised."
And that's the sad part.
Ramirez's name gets announced in the starting lineup for the first time in Los Angeles in more than two months, and he gets a loud cheer.
Ramirez walks out onto the Dodger Stadium outfield grass, and the Mannywood fans rise to their feet.
Ramirez strides to the batter's box to take his first official cuts in Chavez Ravine since May 6 against Washington, and a "Manny! Manny!" chant breaks
out.
Safe to say, the fans have spoken loud and clear.
That whole spiel about the integrity of the game, that's long gone.
Manny hits, they're happy.
"Everybody does little things - speeding tickets, parking tickets," Dodgers first baseman James Loney said. "Everybody breaks the rules. Everybody has a conscience. I think people realize, `Hey, I'm not perfect, either.' I think that helps them cheer for their heroes.
"And that's the thing about people, sometimes it's not even about what you do, it's how you act afterwards."
Ramirez has handled the post-suspension onslaught admirably, not over-the-top apologetic, but not in complete denial, either. He hasn't taken the Barry Bonds, me-against-the-world approach, but he's not exactly knocking on the doors of Dodgers fans across the Southland, bearing gifts and begging for forgiveness.
It's almost like he realizes that what's done is done, some will forgive and forget and some he's lost forever.
"I have friends that, as soon as they found out Manny got caught, they were done, they were out," said John Tunick of Thousand Oaks, clad in a Ramirez shirt. "I got texts immediately that said, `No more.' And there are a lot of people that feel that way, that he disrespected the Dodger franchise. They have a lot of pride in the fact that we didn't have anyone who's ever broken the rules.
"Yeah, maybe I turn the other cheek because he's fun to watch and he's a good baseball player. I guess I'm one of the many who say, `Manny, I forgive you."'
Tunick forgives the man not for his apologies, but for his RBIs. As long as Ramirez delivers, Tunick cheers. Sorry counts a heck of a lot more when there's a home run attached.
There have been plenty, three in just nine games since his return from suspension, with nine RBIs and a .364 batting average, despite a 1-for-4, two-strikeout performance in the Dodgers' 3-0 loss to Houston on Thursday.
"Manny's not a regular guy, he's done it all," Dodgers outfielder Matt Kemp said. "He's won the World Series, he's played in All-Star Games. He's on the level of Albert Pujols. I'm sure if they had Albert Pujols wigs in St. Louis, they would rock those, too. I mean, everybody's a fan of Manny. If you're a fan of baseball, you're a fan of Manny."
That includes Manny himself.
He's still as goofy as ever, as confident today as he was on May 6.
In a pregame interview, sitting on the uncomfortable home dugout bench, Ramirez looked as if he hadn't a care in the world. He joked with Manager Joe Torre, poked a little fun at himself, said he expected a rousing ovation, laughed "I'm back ... Part II."
But it wasn't until he jogged to left field that he felt at home, in Mannywood, where he has been MIA for 70 days.
He scratched, adjusted his belt, looked up into the stands, grinned, nodded.
"Baseball is family, it's kids, it's growing up," Cerna said. "You don't want your kids doing drugs. Manny doing it, it does hurt us. As a Dodger fan, it really, really does. But we're going to support him, accept him, forgive him. We're not going to boo him. That's never gone through our minds."
This is his place. This is his town. These are his people.
One pesky little steroid suspension isn't going to change that.
Maybe it should.
And maybe that says more about the game than it does about the player.
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