Advertisement

It’s not a laughing matter anymore for Manny Ramirez

Share

Reporting from Scottsdale, Ariz.

Nine months or so later, it’s hard to say if maybe it’s just a side effect of the women’s fertility drug Manny Ramirez was caught using, or as some predicted from the start, he’s gone back into his Boston shell.

He’s just not the same guy, the life of the party for the better part of two years in L.A., but now it’s almost impossible to get a word out of him.

“Write whatever you want,” is all he would say when asked about his transformation from clubhouse clown to uncooperative grump.

Maybe he’s worried about how he might perform this season without medical assistance, a reasonable concern given his dramatic decline after returning from a 50-game suspension for violating baseball’s performance-enhancing drug policy.

Maybe his act is no longer finding a receptive audience in the Dodgers’ clubhouse, many of the Dodgers’ key contributors now confident in their own abilities as Major League players and needing no validation from Ramirez.

Maybe he needed to show the baseball world that he wasn’t as much trouble as portrayed earlier in order to win a big contract, getting that contract from the Dodgers so now it’s back to being the guy who lived in his own world in Boston.

Whatever the reason, he shut it down about a week ago after arriving, telling everyone to talk to Ethier and Kemp, and then chirping about this being his last year with the Dodgers. It was typical goofy Ramirez, going for the joke, a hint of truth included, but the timing inappropriate.

Two years ago everyone might have laughed it off, but Ramirez’s margin of error shrunk with the revelation he was one of baseball’s cheaters. So a day later, after dismissing the Dodgers with a whole season yet to play, he walked through the clubhouse telling reporters he had five more years to play —- three here and two in Japan.

A few days later Ronnie Belliard joined the team, and Ramirez interrupted reporters talking to Belliard while holding an energy drink in his hands. Who better to promote an energy drink than a guy who will go to any lengths to get an additional boost?

Ramirez told reporters he was endorsing the drink, but the name of the drink is so vulgar, it cannot be printed in the newspaper. That didn’t stop someone from tweeting its name, the name of the drink linked to Ramirez and quickly making its way around the Internet.

It was embarrassing, a year after he had become a national embarrassment, and it probably wasn’t the fresh start he had hoped for in starting a new season.

About the same time he was letting it be known he was endorsing the energy drink — word coming later from agent Scott Boras’ office that he really wasn’t — there were indications Ramirez was going to join the Dodgers who would be going to Taiwan.

It’s at this point his entire demeanor changed, maybe someone advising him it might be best to keep his mouth shut about eliminating the Dodgers from future contract talks and touting a drink best not mentioned.

Insiders say he’s working as hard or harder than ever, more balanced at the plate and understandably concerned about proving himself worthy to play on somewhere else next season.

That’s why it makes no sense for him to go to Taiwan, although reporters have been told there are money-making opportunities for him there — as if a $20-million salary isn’t enough on top of the $20 million he received last year.

The trip, if only for the 30 hours of flying, are sure to take a toll on him, Ramirez the same age as Garret Anderson, and Anderson now considered too old to be as effective as he once was.

In the best interest of the team on the field, he should have been told to remain behind with most of the other key performers the Dodgers will be counting on this season.

“He’s the one who wanted to go,” says GM Ned Colletti when asked if there was some dispute regarding Ramirez going to Taiwan. “All things being equal I’d rather have him here. I want him to concentrate as fully as he can, and maybe he can with the flight there and back, but if it was up to me, he’d be here.”

Who knew Ramirez’s desires trumped those of the team’s general manager, but then it’s always been about not upsetting the temperamental hitter, who has been known to just go into a funk without explanation.

Ramirez has always been more sensitive than anyone might imagine given his bluster and confidence at the plate, and like so many others he’s probably wondering too what kind of player he’s going to be this season.

He’s been the one in control of the room, his laugh, jokes or music setting the tone, but when you aren’t the same player you’ve been, other voices become louder. Maybe that explains why he’s already become withdrawn, spending most of his time with a select group of players while telling everyone to go talk to Ethier and Kemp — always a little truth in every crack he makes.

Or maybe he just doesn’t care what people here think about him any more since he knows he won’t be back.

Dodgers fans probably only care if Ramirez can hit and drive in runs, but Ramirez was at his best two years ago when he arrived without seemingly a care in the world. He changed the way fans look at the Dodgers.

He had everyone laughing, every day a new yuck to keep everyone as loose as he appeared to be, the ball flying off his bat. If his reputation had taken a serious hit in Boston, in L.A. he became an overnight sensation — loved by everyone except Plaschke.

Last year, Manager Joe Torre talked about how hurt Ramirez was after disappointing so many with his drug suspension, Ramirez returning to swing the bat as if corked with all of his troubles.

So it’s probably not a good thing to find Ramirez in a funk two weeks into spring training, withdrawn and already thinking about where he might be playing next season.

Whatever the reason, and he’s not talking, if this is what Boston fans predicted Dodgers’ fans would eventually get from him, then the last laugh will be on Ramirez, who blew a really good thing here.

t.j.simers@latimes.com

Advertisement