Lets just talk for a moment,
sports aside. Lets say that you were caught running a deep-rooted drug cartel
out of your lovely little two bedroom apartment and were promptly evicted from
your place.

What once was a comforting
roof amid a family-friendly neighborhood is now nothing more than a lost
memory, a remnant of your old ways.

With no house and a tattered
record, an aunt, cousin, or good buddy goes out of their way to welcome you
into their home and try to help you get back on your feet. They don’t owe you
anything, especially given what you did to get put on the streets, but they
offer you a hand out of love.

They give you a room, a warm
bed to sleep in, food to eat, and don’t make you pay rent. You get to save some
money while you find a new place that will extend a lease to a wayward soul
with a criminal record.

How grateful would you be
for that friend or relative? Pretty thankful, right?

During your free stay at
their home, you would probably run some errands, make the trips to the grocery
store, take care of the dishes after dinner, maybe even throw in a load of
laundry or two while you are playing with the dog.

You would do many things to
pull your weight and give thanks for probably the biggest favor you will ever
receive. We agree on that, don’t we?

Which brings me to my point
about all the hoopla surrounding Manny Ramirez’s Minor League Comedy Tour, one
that began Tuesday evening in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

The biggest story – or
disturbance, depending on your opinion – regarding Ramirez’s “rehab” assignment
is the fact that he is even being allowed to play ten games in the minor
leagues prior to the culmination of his 50-game suspension.

Is it right? Is it fair? Why
does he get to play in a Los Angeles Dodger sponsored affiliate before he can
play for the Dodgers? If he is suspended by Major League Baseball, why is he
allowed to play for a team that sends a cut of its revenues to MLB before his
suspension is over? Why should he be given the luxury of getting into game
shape before he sits out his 50 games? On, and on, and on …

Personally, I really don’t
care. The only guys that really matter to me are the men who are currently
wearing the uniform of a Major League club. And, of course, the clean prospects
who are working their way up to the big leagues.

But the other guys? The
users? I’m not really that interested in what they do while they are suspended.
Go rock climb in Rome. Doesn’t matter to me.

Is there something fundamentally
askew with the MLB rule that allows Manny to play in these minor league games?
Yes, there absolutely is. It’s like putting a six-year-old on a thirty-minute
time out, but letting him play after twenty minutes of solitude because he
didn’t kick and scream in the corner.

It’s a ridiculous rule. It’s
so asinine that I’m not going to work myself up thinking about it.

But what I do have a problem
with, is how Ramirez spent his Tuesday evening with the Albuquerque Isotopes.
Ramirez didn’t play a game with the Isotopes or spend an evening with the fans.

No, Manny played four
innings, got his two at-bats in, and then was gone quicker than he came. After
playing his four innings, Ramirez was out the back door, signing a couple
autographs before hopping in a car and bolting from the media before the end of
the game.

I don’t care if Manny
Ramirez says one word to the
media while in Albuquerque. Hell, I wouldn’t.

But what Manny certainly
ought to be doing, is sticking around for the duration of the ball game, and
then some.

He should have played his
four innings, and then hung out with the other minor leaguers for the last
five. He should have spent those five innings talking with the hitters, giving
them two hours of total access to ask any question a kid would want to ask
about hitting to one of the greatest hitters to ever play the game.

He should have spent the
other five innings coaching. He should have paid attention to the other minor
leaguers’ at-bats, and then talked to them about pitch sequence and approach
when they came back in the dug out.

He should have had steaks
and beers delivered to the clubhouse after the game – on his dime – and sat
around with the rest of the guys telling them what life is like in the big
leagues.

For all of Ramirez’s faults,
he has a reputation of being a tireless worker. He should have sat around with
the boys, enjoying a rib eye, explaining to them exactly what it takes to not
only get to the big leagues, but also stick there.

He should have talked to
them about all the fun you have in The Show, but also the professionalism and
dedication it takes to taking care of your body and being ready to perform.

You don’t think those minor
league players would have been hanging on every story and every line? That
would have been like Bring Your Dad To School Day in the second grade. Those
words would have actually made a difference.

You could argue that Manny
should have gotten to the ballpark early, and stayed late to sign autographs
for all of the fans that want them. That would have been a nice gesture, but
I’m not going to say that he has to
do that. Hey, if he wants to say thanks to the people who pay his salary and
support him, that’s up to him.

But it’s not up to him to
give his time to his current teammates. He owes that to them. He’s walking into
their yard, taking the at-bats and outfield reps from a young kid who could use
them to develop and chase a dream, all while he is suspended for testing
positive.

In my opinion, the biggest
travesty with steroid users is not that they cheated the game.

What doesn’t sit well with
me is that there are hundreds of minor league players who are working like hell
to get to the major leagues and would give anything to have a job in the big leagues, but don’t get it
because there are cheaters who are keeping their job through artificial
enhancements. That’s the biggest disgrace of it all.

Steroid users don’t cheat
baseball; they cheat minor leaguers out of an opportunity.

Manny owes time and humility
to these kids who are blindfolded and are trying to find their way to the top.
Manny could have a profound impact on the future of some of these players, and
it is now his duty to contribute to their success by offering his knowledge and
experience. 

Shoulda, coulda, woulda …

What are some of those old
sayings about being thankful, making an impact, and giving back?

Yeah, well lets see it.
There’s still time.

Teddy Mitrosilis is the author of Ballpark Banter. He also writes for Bleacher Report. You can reach him at tm4000@yahoo.com.