Manny's deep impact immeasurable

Manny Ramirez (right) has 18 homers 54 RBIs in 54 games with the Dodgers. Jamie Squire/Getty Images Jon Heyman's Mailbag Got a question or comment for Jon? Name: Email: Hometown: Question: SEND Follow Jon Heyman on Twitter

CHICAGO -- Manny Ramirez, who sleepwalked, sat out and complained his way through the first part of the season with the Red Sox, transformed the storied-but-struggling Dodgers franchise in the second part. The man can play just about any character he wants, and he's well into Act III now. In Game 1, Ramirez reprised his role of October dynamo, which led of course to a familiar ending for the lovably predictable home team.

"I'm just being Manny,'' said Ramirez, using a dressed-down form of the famous phrase employed for all his Manny characters, good, bad or undeniably kooky.

The Dodgers, winners of one playoff game in 19 previous years, are now 1-for-1 with Manny, tied with CC Sabathia as the greatest midseason acquisition in forever, after their 7-2 victory over destiny's doormat.

"I'm just happy being in L.A.,'' the savant-turned-savior continued. "It was a great move for me to go and show people that the other stuff I left behind wasn't true. I just wanted to come and get a new life and play the game hard and show people I can still do this.''

It may be a new life, but so far it looks like the same postseason story for the hitter who's perpetually unconscious around this time of year with 25 career postseason home runs in 96 games. Ramirez golfed his record 25th home run, a monstrous Manny drive which cut through the Windy City, worked a walk after coming back from 0-and-2 two batters before James Loney's grand slam, singled and kept the 99-year Cubs "jinx'' foremost on everyone's mind who was wearing blue, drinking Bud and braving the cold at beautiful Wrigley Field.

Then after his heroics, Manny spent quite a long time wrapping his shortened dreadlocks into a five-cent rubber band. "First, I want to thank Joe [Torre] for cutting my hair,'' were among his first words in the postgame press, where he shared a stage with winning pitcher Derek Lowe, another hero from their Red Sox's jinx-defying 2004 World Series title.

As for the Cubs, well it's only one game. But of course, it's soon to be one century if they can't get past Manny.

We've seen this October tale before in both cases, though Ramirez and Lowe insisted they don't believe in a Cubs curse. (Hey, they may not be history buffs.) "Whatever happened in the past is the past,'' said Manny, who may also have the same message for any suitor in the free-agent market this winter who brings up the Boston half of Ramirez's eventful year.

It's true there was no black cat, no billy goat and definitely no Bartman here for Game 1. The Cubs' bit of bad luck mostly involved drawing Ramirez and -- yikes -- pitching to him.

Except, that is, for that at-bat against Cubs starter Ryan Dempster where he dug that 0-and-2 hole, then came back for a walk in the fateful, four-run fifth inning. "I don't know,'' Cubs manager Lou Piniella said when asked what happened in that case. "I mean, this guy is a pretty good hitter. We were trying to make good pitches on him.''

Piniella's a pretty fair game strategist, and while his surprise pick to go with Dempster over Carlos Zambrano in Game 1 doesn't look so wise now, if the plan is to walk Manny, well, you couldn't blame him. "Whatever you do, you can't let Manny beat you,'' one National League scout said.

Presumably, that's the Cubs' thinking, too, though you couldn't tell for sure Wednesday night. And with Dempster ahead of Loney 1-2 and protecting a 2-0 lead, it appeared the strategy was sound. No way should Loney, a contact hitter, slam a ball that far on this night. This was supposed to be a night to play small ball, what with the wind howling from left toward right. "He's still a baby,'' Dodgers hitting coach Don Mattingly said of Loney. "He doesn't have his man strength yet.''

But Loney became the Manny of the moment. Everything the young Dodgers do now can be fairly assumed to have been influenced by Ramirez, the previously pouting icon who's turned them into a team. "The young Dodgers thought they were hot stuff ... then Manny showed them what hot stuff really is,'' one person connected to the team said.

"He changed everything,'' Mattingly said, taking a swing at Manny's goofball image. "His work is pristine,'' Mattingly said.

And his value is immeasurable. It can't be measured in the 5,000 extra fans he attracts to Dodger Stadium each night, or the $300 jerseys that are flying off the shelves there, or even the .396 batting average he put up while transforming a team and his own image.

It's impossible to calculate the true worth of Manny. Though, I'm quite sure his agent Scott Boras will have an idea or two about that while shopping the good Manny around this winter.