If Boras and Manny outnumber bidders, Dodgers are dust
The Los Angeles Dodgers are trying to do with money what Scott Boras wants done with time. Now how do you think this will end?
The Dodgers made their initial offer to franchise savior Manny Ramirez on Wednesday -- two years, $45 million. This would seem to be four years and $90 million short, if we can extrapolate Boras' initial response.
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| Ned Colletti has a battle on his hands, and it isn't a pretty picture. (AP) |
Not knowing this basic fact has cost teams more money than anyone can count, even Comrades Miller and Knobler, the little weasels. The Giants came in a year and $46 million high on Barry Zito, and their last two Barry Bonds contracts were achieved without any evidence that there was other interest.
It happens all the time, except in those special moments when collusion is achieved. And this time at least, it would seem like the other 15 National League teams would be perfectly fine if the Dodgers ended up doing the six and $135M because nobody believes Manny can do the full six. Indeed, we suspect that even Boras doesn't think so, but then again, he doesn't have to. His job is to sucker-hunt, and now that he has the Dodgers, what he needs is another bidder.
Or better yet, the illusion of another bidder. Just to see if general manager Ned Colletti can play the kind of chicken it takes to outsmart The Great Oz.
Ramirez, you see, is that strangest of commodities -- the brilliant player whose attention span isn't always what it should be. Teams don't mind paying ridiculous sums, but they do tend to want the recipient not to lose interest, as Ramirez apparently did in Boston near the end of his stay. And even if you want to claim that he didn't go in the tank in June and July this year, you have to admit that his '07 numbers with the Red Sox were well off his standard. That is a troublesome fact, whether he as motivated or not.
Now we have no dog in this here hunt, as we don't care where, when or how much when it comes to Ramirez. Three plus an option seems eminently fair to us, but then we wouldn't let Boras approach the front door with a bag full of Girl Scout cookies.
We have no favorite team, and we have no burning desire to see Ramirez's career rubbed out by some form of collusion. It is safe to say that even if the Dodgers never come off their first bid and nobody else joins in, Ramirez will get more than all the people we know combined, and if that doesn't put a smile on his dreadlocked mush, he's too jaded for his own good.
But there is something about knowing that Boras doesn't worry about the club getting drilled on the back end that makes the club, well, nervous. Boras does discounts the way Tiffany's does one-cent sales -- never. If a team needs screwing, his tool belt is always at the ready. It isn't his job to worry about whether they'll like it or not.
Colletti, on the other hand, is between a rock and a Rottweiler. If he overpays, his boss gets mad at him. If he underpays and Ramirez goes somewhere else, his boss gets mad at him. And if he comes in just right, Ramirez might grouse that it isn't enough and start taking nights and weekends off.
This might be why a lot of other teams are leery of the man despite his obvious skill. They have seen how much damage one ridiculous contract causes, and the image and employment risks of guessing wrong on such a glorious chunk of damp dynamite are overwhelming.
Thus, Colletti has to find the right number, the right calendar, and the right number of other suitors (zero) to satisfy everyone, including a re-energized but freshly adamant fan base that is going to want to know why Juan Pierre is playing where Manny Ramirez used to be, if it comes to that.
Manny is the new Fernando Valenzuela, and the Dodgers have to be prepared to overpay. But over-over-overpay? Hmmm. The lesson of Barry Zito is stamped all over this little playlet, and without an extraordinary amount of discipline, Colletti is liable to end up standing atop a flaming bag of the dog's business in the lobby at Dodger Stadium if he isn't very, very careful.
Ray Ratto is a columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle.
