Nobody bashed Manny after the Youkilis episode. A few teammates apparently agreed that somebody needed to tell Youk to simmer down.
Saturday's incident is different. Manny made a late request for a whopping 16 tickets for that night's game and McCormick indicated it might be difficult to fill the large order. The two argued and Ramírez knocked McCormick down.
"It escalated on his part," McCormick said. "He said something about me not doing my job."
McCormick and Ramírez later met privately, Manny apologized, and McCormick accepted the peace offer (good career move). As ever, Terry Francona said it would be handled internally.
CEO Larry Lucchino yesterday echoed the manager, saying, "It's an internal matter and we'll handle it internally."
E-mail response from John Henry: "Actions have been taken commensurate with what occurred."
Sorry, that just doesn't cut it this time. The Sox promote themselves as a public entity. They sell memberships in Red Sox Nation. When an episode like this goes public, they have some obligation to tell us that it's not OK for a 36-year-old athlete to put his hands on a 64-year-old club executive. On the street, that gets you arrested. In most workplaces, it gets you a suspension at the very least. Not at Fenway Park. Not if you can hit .300 with 35 homers and 120 RBIs. Not if you make $20 million per year.
No one wants to demonize Manny. He's a hitting machine on a par with Jimmie Foxx and a beloved figure in Red Sox Nation. His cartoonish persona entertains the masses and his flaws are always excused by his adoring fans. Most Manny moments are decidedly benign. High-fiving a fan in mid-play is downright funny and we've learned to accept his Cadillacing at home plate, taking a bathroom break inside The Wall, and occasionally dogging it on an infield grounder. Manny is charming and lovable. Most important, he can hit.
