It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right.  I hope you had the time of your life.  -Green Day

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  I’ve been an ardent supporter of Manny.  I truly have.  I’ve said he’s the best right handed hitter I’ve ever seen.  The best right handed there’s ever been.  Bigger than Yitzhak Rabin.  But, like my main man Popeye, I’ve had all I can stands and I can’t stands no more.

Manny Ramirez could have gone down as the most important player in Red Sox history.  The most important player in Red Sox history.  More important than the Splendid Splinter.  More important than Yaz.  More important than anybody.   A World Series MVP will do that.  Two rings will do that.  Two rings in four years with a team that has won bupkus for eighty-six years prior, will do that.  Three or four rings?  Fuhgettaboutit!  But instead, Manny bailed on his team.  Bailed, just when they needed him most.  He complained of a Sonny Liston knee injury and pulled himself out of games.  He shoved aged Red Sox traveling secretary Jack McCormick to the ground.  He lollygagged the ball around the outfield.  He lollygagged his way down to first.  He lollygagged in and out of the dugout.  He lollygagged his way right out of Boston and I’m just sick about it. 

Now, I ain’t giving up quite yet, but after watching Tuesday night’s shellacking at the hands of the Tampa Bay Rays I’ve come to my wit’s end.  My wit’s end!  Manny Ramirez’s fifth-inning single Monday, gave him seven hits in eight at-bats with runners in scoring position this postseason.  Only two other players in history have had seven hits over eight postseason at-bats with runners in scoring position.  Meanwhile, the Red Sox are 6-for-34 in those situations against the Rays.  It’s a travesty.  It’s a travesty of a mockery of a sham of a mockery of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham. 

Manny went 2-for-3 with a walk in Game Five.  He concluded the postseason with a .520 batting average, a .667 on-base percentage, and a slugging average of 1.080. He had 13 hits in 25 at-bats with two doubles, four homers and 11 walks.  Big deal you say?  Who cares you say?  I say, each and every one of those averages is the highest by a player in a single postseason.  Yowza!  Think the Sox could use that bat?  You betcha!  But noooo.  Manny had his mind on his money and his money on his mind.  Are we surprised?  After all, he did leave Cleveland’s love for the love of Boston’s money.  It’s just deja vu all over again.

So has been his prowess this post season.  Manny’s .520 batting average is the highest for any of the 1,118 major leaguers who had as many as 25 at-bats in one postseason. He beat Billy Hatcher’s old record by one point.  Ramirez’s 1.080 slugging average is the highest among the same group of 25-at-bat players, surpassing Carlos Beltran.   Manny’s .667 on-base percentage is the highest among any of the 1,352 players who had at least 25 plate appearances in a single postseason, surpassing the Big Hurt.  That’s what makes this all so frustrating.  I love Jason Bay as much as the next guy, but, Senator, you’re no Manny Ramirez.  Don’t believe me?  Just ask Big Papi.  Senor Octubre is mired in the slump of all slumps without Manny’s big bopper of a bat proticting him in the line-up.

I understand I am still bitter by the way things went down.  I understand baseball is a business.  I just wish things went down differently.  I just wish Manny were still around to keep the Red Sox in the business of winning. 

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

Don’t you know I’m still standing.  Better than I ever did.  Looking like a true survivor.  Feeling like a little kid.  I’m still standing.  After all this time.  Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind.  -Elton John

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  What’s that?  Uh — Playoffs?  Don’t talk about — playoffs?  You kidding me?  Playoffs?  I just hope we can win a game!   On Sunday night, the New York Yankees will play their final game at The House That Ruth Built.  The New York Yankees will play their final game at The House That Ruth Built in an absotively, posolutely, meaningless game.  As me, you, and Roberto Kelly know, the Yankees have been in the postseason every year since 1995.  Every year.  Derek Jeter has been in the postseason every year since 1995.  Every year.  Hip Hip Jorge has been in the postseason every year since 1995.  Every year.  The Sandman has been in the postseason every year since 1995.  Every year.  Not this year.  Kid, this just ain’t your night.  It’s Joe Torre’s night though.  Joe Torre gets the title shot outdoors at the ballpark and what do the Bombers get?  A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville!

Joe Torre’s Dodgers have been on a 12-2 September tear that’s catapulted them all the way to the top NL West.  On top of the world looking down on creation.  Meanwhile, back in the Bronx, the hapless Yankees are sleepwalking through the end of a hollow season.  I’m a sleepwalker.  I’m a night stalker.  I’m a street walker.  I’m a night hawker.  Sleepwalking all the way to the golf course while one team member muttered, “It looked like we quit.”  The Dodgers haven’t quit.  Joe Torre hasn’t quit. 

When the Joe Torre Era ended at Legends Field one year ago, the Yankees let go the second winningest manager in their history and a four-time World Series champion to boot.  And with Joe, went the dynasty.  Kiss Blake Carrington good-bye.  I’d prefer Sammy Jo Dean Carrington, but to each his own.  From 1995-2007, the Yankees had one manager and gone to six World Series.  In the twelve years before that, they had eight managers and went to none.  In the one year after, the Yankees have not done well.  Not well at all.  The Dodgers have.

Joe Torre is marching the injury-riddled Dodgers straight into the playoffs.  Joe Torre is marching the injury-riddled Dodgers to more victories than the vaunted New York Yankees.  When Johnny comes marching home again, hoorah!  Hoorah!  The men will cheer, the boys will shout.  The ladies they will all turn out.  Turning out now all right.  The way Torre has Manny Ramirez and the rest of Dem Bums playing hard every day, these Dodgers are one scary bunch to be facing in the playoffs.  One very scary bunch.  One banana, two banana, three banana, four.  Four bananas make a bunch, and so do many more.  So while the Yankees post season stretch halts at twelve, one guy is looking to lucky number thirteen.

Public Acknowledgements:  Jim Mora, Ned Flanders, On the Waterfront, Carpenters, Kinks, Dynasty and the Banana Splits

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

It’s your thing.  Do what you wanna do.  I can’t tell you who to sock it to.  -Isley Brothers 

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  First thing’s first.  I’m a Manny fan.  Like Neil Young always says:  The king is gone but he’s not forgotten.  But once you’re gone, you can never come back.  When you’re out of the blue and into the black.  No Manny Ramirez is not walking through that door, fans.  But I like him still. 

I don’t like the way he went out.  Not one bit.  I do like the two rings he brought to Boston.  I did like having the best right handed hitter in baseball backing up Big Papi.  Liked it a lot.  But now he’s gone.  That’s life, that’s what all the people say.  You’re riding high in April.  Shot down in May.  But Manny changed that tune.  Now that he’s back on top, back on top in June September. 

Know this, Manny was brought to Tinseltown for one reason and one reason only.  Your mission, should you choose to accept it, involves catching the Diamondbacks.  As always, should any member of your team be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow all knowledge of your actions.  This message will sel####estruct in five seconds.  Mission accomplished. 

August 1st, the Dodgers were sitting two back of Arizona with a .500 record.  Today, thanks to Mr. Ramirez, LA is four games over .500 enjoying a 3 1/2 game lead in the NL West.  3 1/2 games up because Manny rakes.  Cleveland.  Boston.  LA.  Manny rakes.  Good times.  Manny rakes.  Bad times.  Manny rakes.  Business bad?  #### you, pay me.  Oh, you had a fire?  #### you, pay me.  Place got hit by lightning huh?  #### you, pay me.  That’s what Manny being Manny is really all about.  You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around.  That’s what it’s all about!

Check this out.  Last night, Manny had two bombs and four RBIs in the Dodgers’ 7-2 win at San Diego.  That brings Manny’s numbers up to fourteen bombs and forty RBIs in his thirty-eight games with the Dodgers. That makes him the first mid-season acquisition to put up such gaudy numbers in his first forty games with a new team since 1949.  Since 1949.  Since Hank Sauer.  Since the Mayor of Wrigley Field.  Da Mayor don’t bother nobody and nobody no bother da Mayor.  Nobody bothered da Mayor back in ‘49.  Da Mayor had fifteen dings and forty-seven RBIs in his first forty games with the Cubs after coming over in a mid-June trade from the Reds back in ‘49.  But that’s only half the story.  Half the story morning glory.  You need a little time to wake up.  Wake up and smell the Manny.  Over the last eighty years or so only eight guys have ever had those kinds of stats in their forty games with a new team.  Manny’s done it twice. Twice!  Get the papers, get the papers. 

So, say what you want bout Manny.  The greatest right handed hitter to ever don a Red Sox uniform has done did it again.  The greatest right handed hitter in the history of baseball has done did it again.  Manny Ramirez has done did it again.  Last night, his pair of two-run home runs crushed over the fence in right-center 400 feet away from home plate proved what a difference maker this guy truly is.  MVP!  MVP!  MVP!

Public Acknowledgements:  Rick Pitino, Frank Sinatra, Mission Impossible, Do the Right Thing, Oasis and Goodfellas

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  Yo back up now and give a brother room.  The fuse is lit and I’m about to go boom.  Boom!  Shake-shake-shake the room.  Tic-tic-tic-tic boom!  -Fresh Prince

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  The Boomer.  The shake the roomer.  Like Mazda, the zoom zoom zoomer.  Like Arnold, it’s not a tumor.  Unable to obtain a proven starter, Dem Bums addressed their beleaguered pitching staff woes by reaching a tentative contract agreement with free agent David Wells.  Great move by the Dodgers.  Great move.  Why not take a flier out on this cat?  They ain’t out of it yet.  Just two and a half back in the Wild Card standings.  Hey, he may not be a world beater anymore.  He may have given up twenty-six runs in his final 16 2/3 innings with the Padres.  He may have ended up with a 5-8 record and a 5.54 ERA.  He may have done all that, but this guy can still find the strike zone.  He’s a three-time All-Star who led the American League in wins in 2000.  No small feat.  He has 235 victories in a 21-year career.  Just one shy behind Whitey Ford for 12th all-time among left-handers.  But most importantly, most importantly, he pitches big in big games on the big stage.  I’ve had enough, I’m getting out.  To the city, the big big city.  I’ll be a big noise with all the big boys.  Big time.  So much larger than life.  Larger than life in twenty-seven postseason games.  Larger than life winning an American League Championship Series MVP Award.  Larger than life with World Series rings from both the New York Yankees and the Toronto Blue Jays.  He’s been there.  He’s done that.  He can do it again.  And know this sports fans.  He’s coming cheap.  Very cheap.  The Dodgers are required to pay only $80,000 of the $1 million left on his guaranteed contract, with the Padres picking up the rest.  What a bargain!  Nobody beats the Wiz!  Especially when you consider Jason Schmidt, who made just six starts, hasn’t pitched in more than two months and left-hander Randy Wolf has been out since the first week of July.  The Dodgers have trotted Brett Tomko out to the mound.  The Dodgers have trotted Mark Hendrickson out to the mound.   The Dodgers have trotted rookie Eric Stults out to the mound.  They even trotted left-hander Hong-Chih Kuo out there before he went down with elbow surgery.  Why not trot out the Boomer.  Why not trot out a guy with a perfect game under his belt.  With a skull rattling hangover, yet.  Why not trot out a strike throwing machine.  Why not trot out a money pitcher who’s the most money in the moniest of games.  You’re so money and you don’t even know it!  You know what you are?  You’re like a big bear with claws and with fangs.  Why not send out this big bear with claws and fangs.  Why not try and win a pennant?

Public Acknowledgements:  LA Times, Kindergarten Cop, Peter Gabriel, Seinfeld and Swingers

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  The tip’s get clocked, baby.  The bond’s get stocked.  My style gets rocked.  Just like doors get knocked.  With legendary status, like my name’s Lou Brock.  -Everlast

Public Service Announcement:  OK here we go!  Here it comes.  Here comes baseball.  Like my main man Joey D always says:  “You look forward to it like a birthday party when you’re a kid.  You think something wonderful is going to happen.”  I’m looking forward to it.  I think something wonderful is going to happen.  I live for this.  What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans?  I loved Lou Brock.  Put you in shock.  Stealing bases around the clock.  A virtuoso like my main man Johann Sebastian Bach.  I loved Tommy Harper.  I loved Rock Raines.  I loved Willie Wilson.  Looking good in those baby blues.  Faster than Deja Vu.  Quicker than any cheetah in a zoo.  I loved Firecracker Vince Coleman.  I loved Willie Mays Hayes.  The American Express Card.  Don’t steal home without it.  I loved Rickey Henderson.  Probably the best lead-off hitter I’ve ever seen.  The best base stealer there’s ever been.  These are the cats with steals.  These are the cats with the wheels.  These are the cats as fast as Ferrari automobiles.  Joe Morgan once said:  “A good base stealer should make the whole infield jumpy.”   So that’s what we want to know.  Who in 2007 makes the whole infield jumpy?

Jose Reyes makes infields jumpy.  Maybe the best in baseball.  Reigning two-time National League champ.  Fresh off his first All-Star season.  The first player in baseball history to have more than 63 steals, 120 runs, 192 hits and 19 homers in a single season.  The first player since Marquis Grissom to exceed sixty steals in consecutive seasons.  In his short time with the New York Mets, he already ranks fifth all time.  Jose Reyes:  the hand shaking, base taking, record breaking, stolen base king.

Hanley Ramirez makes guys jumpy.  Why can’t we get guys like that?  Guys quick as a cat.  Stealing second just like that.  Getting down those base paths in no time flat.  Rookie of the Year last year.  Leading all rookies last year with fifty-one stolen bases.   The first NL rookie to post 110-plus runs and 50-plus stolen bases in a season.  The fifth big-league ball player since 1900 to hit 45-plus doubles and have 50-plus stolen bases.  His future’s so bright, the fans call him Shadez. 

Carl Crawford makes folks jumpy.  Former two-time American League champ.  Get the papers, get the papers.  Second leading base stealer over the last five years.  Last year, he had three stolen bases in two straight games. Prior to Crawford, the last three players to steal at least three bases in consecutive games were Luis Castillo in 2000, Rickey Henderson in 1983, 1988 and 1993 and Amos Otis in 1975.   Crawford became only the eighth player in history to get 200 stolen bases before his 25th birthday.  On that same day, he also stole home.  Jackie Robinson style.  Last year, Carl Crawford became the first player to collect five hits and four stolen bases in a game since Rickey Henderson did it for the Yankees on April 11, 1988.  Carl Crawford giving folks a reason to believe down in Tampa.

Juan Pierre makes infields jumpy.  Another two-time National League champ.  Get the papers, get the papers.   The leading base stealer in the 2000’s with 210.  The leading base stealer over the last five years.  Stole at least 45 bases each year from 2001 to 2006.  With the Portland Rockies of the Northwest League, Juan won the stolen base title in his first professional season.  Give him a reason.  Say he won’t, and I’ll call it treason.  Stealing his way through the baseball season.  

Ichiro make cats jumpy.  Yes, the hitting machine.  Making infielders as jumpy as a Mexican jumping bean.  Stealing bases is part of his routine.  Last year, Ichiro’s 33 consecutive stolen bases surpassed the American League record set by Willie Wilson in 1980.  Last year, Ichiro stole 45 bases.  Good enough for 3rd in the AL.  Good enough for 7th in the Majors.  Ichiro, good enough for me.

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!