Yes, Manny is still "being Manny," but you can't fault a man for lightness of character when the effort is there. He's started running out grounders this season -- granted, it's abhorrent that it took him this long, but at least he's doing it.
He still looks like he dogs it in left field, but he gets to the ball and still has one of the best and most effortless-looking arms in the game. I won't say that he's the be-all-end-all of left fielders, but he does a pretty damn nice job out there given his size and aerodynamic catastrophe of a hairstyle. Think of his fielding as a less flashy version of the Bernie Williams phenomenon -- Bernie knew exactly how hard/lazily to run to guarantee a diving catch. Manny knows exactly how hard/lazily to run to make ridiculously casual grabs on screaming liners. If he dogs it on a ball, I feel that it's safe to assume that Manny has been playing baseball for his entire life and knows what he can and can't get to. I would extend that comment to say that if you are sitting on the couch and screaming, "RUN IT OUT!!" under the assumption that you know Manny's range better than he does, you are probably living under the same illusion that makes fans think they can coach games better than Doc Rivers.
Speaking of which, did you all see the C's storm back in LA last night? Jebus. Also, Kobe's post-game conference was as hilarious as it was mature, given the circumstances and retarded questions. More on the C's later, but again, Jebus.
Anyway, the man, the Manny, he knows what he's doing. He's a fine-tuned baseball robot, and his intelligence for the game is second to none. He may not be the most inspirational player on the field, but he's a social fixture and a Boston icon. We're spoiled and stupid fans though, and we talk about his showing up early for Spring Training this year in the best shape of his career as if it's proof that he wasn't good enough before. Let me slow that one down so you can catch the flaw in the logic: he did something great over the off-season, so we skewer him for not doing it sooner.
That's like... you're throwing a barbeque, and you've got this amazing piece of rubbed-up tasty spicy meat, and you know it's going to be incredible, but the grill isn't hot enough. So you look at your meat, and you smell it, and it's so good you can almost taste it. Your mouth falls open, watering at the near-brilliance of your dish, the untapped potential of garlic on pork. Eventually, finally, lord help you, the grill gets hot, the veggies are done, and you slap that chop down and watch it cook. It takes some time, and you watch it cook, rife with anticipation, drooling, loving, hoping. When it comes off the smell is so divine, the juices such ambrosia, the success so unbelievable, that you almost cry. Then you throw the meat out because you waited too long for it.
I'm hungry, and Manny is Manny, and we should all just suck it up and be ecstatic that we've gotten to watch one of the most physically talented hitters to ever live win two World Series (and counting), slap 500 dingers, and hit the skin off the ball 130-something games each year.
