De Dos Dominicanos...

Making their home inside the three and four spots of the Red Sox batting order one finds two of the most feared hitters in all of baseball: Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz. Both are legends in New England, both have inspired legions of fans, both can intimidate even the most talented pitchers, and both can change the momentum of a ballgame with one swing of their bat. Their public personas, however, couldn't be more different, and in the last few days this has never been more evident.

If you're any sort of sports fan, you've no doubt noticed at various points throughout the winter that Manny Ramirez has requested to be traded way from Boston. Problem is, when you can hit .300 with 45 HR and 120 RBI on an annual basis, a team is going to be hard-pressed to find fair value. That's exactly what happened to the Sox was talk of a trade with the Orioles for Miguel Tejada. So Manny is still a Sox. Yesterday, however, it was announced that Ramirez has been given special permission to report to camp on March 1, which is several days later than is required by MLB.

Every time Manny has requested a trade, the fans have been split into two camps: those who want no part of someone who doesn't want to be part of the Red Sox, and those who don't care about what he does off the field as long as he produces. But with this request, how will the fans perceive Ramirez? I, for one, still believe that as long as Manny comes in and hits, let him do his thing. He strikes anyone who's ever spoken with him as being detached, socially abnormal within the boundaries of the spotlight. Let him avoid the media, let him vanish inside the Monster in between innings. Sure, it's frustrating to see the Sox recommence preferential treatment, something that they seemed to be trying to phase out after the departure of Pedro and Nomar. But in my opinion, Ramirez's demands, like the demands of many players today, are symptomatic of a bigger problem: the perception that baseball is more than a game, and that it's players are more important than any one of us.

If I didn't show up for work or demanded special treatment, I would be reprimanded, and if it continued I would be fired. Players sign contracts with teams guaranteeing them a specific amount of money over a period of time. That monetary commitment is not alone. The player is also committing to wear that team's uniform until the best interests of the team are better served by his absence. What players seem to forget is that they don't really have a choice. Demands aren't really demands, are they? A team can decide to let the player hold his breath until his face turns blue, but in the end, the player either shows up and gets paid, or doesn't, and loses out on a lot of money.

I don't think this is Ramirez's problem. I'm sure he'll end up doing what he does best and driving in the runs throughout 2006. But doesn't the club have an obligation to put it's foot down every once in a while?

David Ortiz, however, is on the other side of this equation. Far from being moody superstar, he was an under-the-radar signing in 2003 that ended up spawning one of the most impressive slugging careers in the last few decades. And unlike Ramirez, Ortiz has publicly stated a desire to finish his career in The Hub. He's proven that he's more apt to take a fair offer than go for the top dollar (his last contract was well below market value). Problem is, the Sox have a policy that doesn't allow for contract renegotiation (at least with an sort of urgency) until the close of the current season. That would mean Ortiz playing with the spectre of free agency hanging over his head during 2006.

The Damon and Theo fiascoes of the last year have demonstrated the impracticality of a hard-line stance on this issue, while Tim Wakefield has demonstrated that negotiations can succeed before the offseason. David Ortiz has proven to be a great DH, a great clubhouse guy, a great player with the fans, and one of the most beloved sports figures since that young backup quarterback lead the Patriots to their first championship. Let him get a new contract, not for the rest of his career, but for another 2 or 3 years at least. The fans could use a little hope in a front office that has toyed with the emotions of New England repeatedly over the last few seasons.