Because he is the team's cleanup hitter, has Hall of Fame ability, and possesses a contract, the second-richest in the game, that makes him unmovable, Ramirez is rarely held accountable. ''Manny being Manny" has become as much a part of the New England lexicon as pahking the cah in Hahvahd Yahd. One day someone from within the Sox clubhouse or in the Yawkey Way offices will rise up and condemn him for his selfish indifference.
That day has yet to come, mainly because his bosses and his teammates feel like Ramirez is, in essence, holding the team hostage. Speak out against him, and the fear is that Ramirez will withdraw like a petulant child and go into a three-year pout. Let it slide, and you have a man with the potential of repeating as the World Series MVP.
So the Sox mostly look the other way, though there were plenty of people angry that Francona ran out an outfield yesterday that had Kevin Millar making just his fifth start in left field and rookie Adam Stern making his first start in right. Maybe they did so because they've been through this drill before -- think Labor Day 2003 in Philadelphia, when Ramirez refused to pinch hit, and last July in Anaheim, Calif., when he begged out because of a supposed hamstring injury that didn't keep him from playing in the All-Star Game just days earlier. One Sox veteran blamed the media. ''You guys never hold him accountable," he said. ''I've never seen a guy get such a free pass. You all think it's a joke, 'Manny being Manny.' What is 'Manny being Manny?' Him disrespecting the game?"
Then there are the oddball demands to be traded, another annual event. Sports Illustrated's highly respected Tom Verducci said Ramirez asked to be traded because he had no privacy in Boston. This from a guy who recently allowed the Globe Magazine to run a spread on his son's bedroom.
