Advertisement

Manny ready to 'follow the rules'

LOS ANGELES – How long it lasts is anybody's guess. But Manny Ramirez is trying a new tack with his new team in a new league on a new coast.

Fitting in.

He's going to cut his dreadlocks because, he said during a madcap introductory news conference behind home plate at Dodger Stadium on Friday, "They got some rules here, and I don't want to be treated differently than anybody else."

He paused, then concluded the thought.

"You've got to follow the rules," he said, without a trace of irony.

Ramirez wore No. 99, not to honor Barbara Feldon or Anne Hathaway or Mitch "Wild Thing" Williams or Turk Wendell or even reprise Wayne Gretzky wearing 99 for the L.A. Kings two decades ago. Ramirez couldn't have the number he wore in Boston, 24, because it was Walter Alston's and is retired. Then he asked for 30 but missed it by a week because newly acquired third baseman Casey Blake grabbed it. His next choice was 34, but that was worn by Fernando Valenzuela and, while it isn't retired, it might as well be. So he said he didn't care, and the Dodgers gave him 99.

By the time he decided on something else, it was too late. The Los Angeles Dodgers already were cranking out Manny 99 jerseys, expecting to sell plenty to the 30,000 fans who bought tickets to games this weekend since the trade.

"Ninety-nine is fine," he said. "I'll stay with it."

Batting practice began, and Ramirez made a point of striking up a conversation with veteran second baseman and resident curmudgeon Jeff Kent. He put his hand on Kent's back as they chatted, and although Kent didn't reciprocate, he didn't recoil, either.

For all the effort Ramirez put into quickly becoming one of the boys in blue, it wouldn't have been surprising if he'd asked Kent which magazine he preferred reading to pass time before games, Sport Rider or Motorcycle Industry.

"I just want to meet the guys and play hard," Ramirez said. "We're going to have a long conversation."

Reinventing oneself in the land of relentless sun, cosmetic surgery and suburban sprawl is a common theme. But this bordered on the surreal. On the other side of the country, the Boston Red Sox were in a collective state of relief over Ramirez being traded moments before the deadline Thursday. His antics and inflammatory comments in recent days clearly were designed to force a deal. The two World Series titles that might not have been won without Ramirez's bat ceased to be relevant. He'd crossed a line, and there was no going back.

"We had a meeting with 25 guys who feel like a team,'' Red Sox general manager Theo Epstein said Friday. "We haven't felt like that for a week.''

The Dodgers, apparently, will attempt to pull off a dicey combination. – get a positive contribution from Ramirez on the field while cashing in on his colorful personality off it. The team's Fox Sports Net television affiliate moved quickly, putting blue sunglasses on Ramirez and having him hold up a series of white placards that read, in order,

Hi

I'm Manny Ramirez

I'm the newest Dodger

Let's have some fun!

A media horde that numbered more than 200 mined the fun angle, and after Ramirez's repeated attempts at saying the right thing ("Let me tell you a story. My grandmother visited the States when I was 8 and came back with my first uniform. It was a Dodger uniform, number 30."), he led everyone into Manny World.

Do you still want to be traded for Brett Favre?, shouted one reporter. "I don't know how to play football. But if I was going to Green Bay, I'd be OK being a backup," came the reply.

Are you going to miss the Green Monster? "We're going to build one here."

How will you adjust to playing in the National League? "I'm going to start maybe stealing some bases."

What do you think of Joe Torre? "I played a lot against him. I'll let you know in a month."

Next came a question in Spanish, something about his favorite telenovela, or Spanish-language soap opera. "I'm going to do my own telenovela. I'll make it commercial-free so people can concentrate on watching me."

Do you have any thoughts about your time in Boston? "Thinking of Boston makes me put my brain on pause. I go 'pop.' " He squeezed his fingers together, as if working a remote control. "I feel like five thousand pounds are off my back."

Ramirez gave the sellout crowd a glimpse of what he does well and what he doesn't during the Dodgers' 2-1 loss to the Arizona Diamondbacks. He had two hits against Randy Johnson, and it's obvious that his presence will strengthen an often anemic Dodgers lineup, even though he bounced into a double play with the tying run aboard in the ninth inning. But his half-hearted attempt to cut off a triple to left-center field by Chris Burke in the fifth inning was a sober reminder that he won't improve an already dreadful Dodgers defense.

The Dodgers, in fact, didn't need an outfielder nearly as much as they needed a shortstop (Nomar Garciaparra was placed on the 15-day disabled list Friday, leaving Angel Berroa at the position) and a relief pitcher (a devastating injury to Takashi Saito forced the capable Jonathan Broxton into the closer role but created a hole in the eighth inning).

Playing Ramirez every day in left field means Juan Pierre – a Torre favorite and essential to the top of the order with Rafael Furcal on the disabled list – must move to center field, where he played last year much to the delight of opposing baserunners, who took extra bases on his weak arm at will. Matt Kemp and Andre Ethier, both of whom deserve full-time status, must share time in right field. Andruw Jones and his .161 batting average will be aptly relegated to the role of late-inning defensive replacement for Pierre.

Unless Ramirez's presence somehow enables Jones to find his game. They hit it off right away, the 36-year-old free spirit from the Dominican Republic and the 31-year-old faded former star from Curacao. Batting practice ended, and Ramirez called out, "Andruw." Jones dutifully followed the newest Dodger, the one intent on fitting in, past the cameras, through the dugout and into the clubhouse.

Maybe it was time for that long conversation. Maybe they pulled up chairs at Kent's locker and shared motorcycle magazines. Maybe Jones knew the name of a good barber.

Manny Ramirez is a Dodger, and the range of possibilities is endless.