Suspended Dodgers’ slugger Manny Ramirez was spotted hanging out at Paseo Colorado Saturday night, apparently looking a little glum.
Interesting thing about his absence, Dodger pitching seems to have suffered, while the offense is still scoring.
I loved the 100+ point headline in LA Opinion this morning, and the paper’s overall treatment of the Manny Ramirez positive drug test. Most times, the English language blogs in our county overlook the contributions of the region’s lively Spanish and Asian language newspapers.
Fortunately there’s Google translate. Here’s what the few grafs of LA Opinion’s story have to say this morning:
At first sight, and feel the Dodger Stadium seemed to be a branch of hell.
In the midst of a temperature exceeding 90 degrees, the high command of the Dodgers called a rare news conference on an inclement sun.
It was a cold and warm concern to disseminate the news as a bomb fell in Los Angeles.
Manny Ramrez, the man who loaded the team on his shoulders since his arrival at the end of last season, tested positive in doping analysis. Supposedly, Ramirez used Ganodotropina human chorionic (HCG). It is prescribed to stimulate fertility in women and testosterone production in men.
However, Ramirez argued that the real responsibility for what happened was a prescribed medicine that the doctor recently.
The best toletero right of Major League was suspended for 50 games and began yesterday to meet his doom.
Dodgers (Dodgers) won the first set of six points, but unable to stop in the last three nationals (Nationals) counterattack, very this year, the first home defeat Dodge has just hit the night before the opening quarter of 13 straight major league home record, this was cut.
Manny Ramirez Manny Ramirez hit strong (Manny Ramirez) the use of drugs, starting from the day of suspension 50 Manager Torre (Joe Torre) convened a closed-door meeting of players and coaches to deploy. Andre Ethier one was sent after against the base. (James Loney) added immediately a hit, scored the first points for the Dodgers. Matt Kamp Camp (Matt Kamp) timely home run ball hit the right wall, hit a grand slam from red.
A possible centerpiece for tomorrow’s paper might look like this … (thanks to our graphic design team of Andrew Landeros and Manny Amaya)
Somewhere in the past decade I gave up on professional baseball.
I don’t know if it was the meatheaded, ill-mannered, less-than-likeable ignoramuses who play the game, or the idiotic commissioner who turned a blind-eye to rampant steroid abuse.
Of course Commissioner Bud Selig had his reasons for ignoring the stench coming from diamonds and clubhouses around the country. The game needed more fans to fill the cheap seats. What better way to get them there than a season-long home run derby between a couple of pimply pin-headed suspected ‘roid rangers?
As the list of suspected steroid abusers inflated, the list of suspect statistics simply grew.
The game had died.
So did the little boy in me who would grab the sports section every morning to peruse box scores and standings and devour game stories, notebooks and features about the game.
The kid who once bought baseball cards for his kids would just as soon buy them serial killer trading cards, which meant never.
Why contribute to the farce? I thought. Why make my kids believe jocks in pinstripes and sanitary socks are any more heroic than hack politicians or convicted Wall Street money changers?
Something happened Friday night that forced me to re-evaluate my hard-line stance.
It started with being hungry.
I left work early and fell asleep about 5:30 p.m.
I woke up about 9 p.m. and went to the kitchen to make something to eat. Standing there debating Top Ramen or fried eggs, I heard Vin Scully’s lilting up-and-down cadence describe a bottom of the ninth, two-out, 0-0 tie and a walk to Matt Kemp that loaded the bases.
I looked over and saw the kid in the next room watching the game. He was buying into the Dodgers, perhaps because of Scully’s magnificent call; certainly because of the situation.
Listening to Scully call the next 10 pitches to Russell Martin, I was hooked too. After running the count up to 3-2, Martin drew a bases-loaded walk that sealed a win for the Dodgers and highlighted a weekend for the Blue Crew that has kept the team unbeaten at Dodger Stadium so far this season.
Although I had considered plunking down $49.99 to buy the Pacquiao-Hatton fight Saturday night, Vin talked me out of it. I watched the Dodgers instead, and again marveled at the smoothness of Scully’s voice and perfection of his call at the end of a 10-inning game.
I guess he should have it down, after all, Vinny’s been doing this for 60 years.
He’s not a homer, he doesn’t give his opinions and it’s amazing to hear him call play-by-play, sometimes without saying anything at all. Even his pitch for Farmer John (“Easternmost in quality, Westernmost in flavor”) has flair.
Turns out there’s a grass-roots call to get Vin Scully named the Grand Marshal of this year’s Tournament of Roses Parade.
“A Cut Above the Rest.”
Need I say more?