Trump and the ghost of Manny Ramirez

Anyone living in New England in the early 2000s probably knows the phrase. Anyone who paid attention to Major League Baseball in the early 21st century probably knows the phrase: “Manny being Manny.” Manny Ramirez, the Boston Red Sox slugger, wasn’t just a consummate hit man. He was a nutjob. Goofy, wacky, even mercurial at times, Ramirez seemed incapable of playing anything straight, except when he stood at the plate and stared down a ball coming at him at 90 mph.

Crazy Manny moments are legion. He liked to slip through a door in the Green Monster wall at Fenway Park with a bad-boy grin, only to reappear seconds before the next pitch. My favorite Manny incident is when he made a running catch in center field, high-fived a fan in the stands, then turned around and threw a bomb to help pick off a runner in a double play.

Ramirez wasn’t always easy to like, even for us diehard Red Sox fans. Just when you thought he’d lost his batting groove or done one reckless thing too many, he came roaring back to the adulation of his faithful minions, who never really stopped loving or believing in him, though a bit embarrassed by his behavior at times.

While Ramirez may have been beloved in Boston for his hitting talent (he was our flaky slugger after all), his antics kept him from being the most admired player on the field. Enormously talented, yes. Fun-loving, yes. Mysterious at times, uh-huh. But revered? Esteemed? Not exactly. Those sentiments were reserved for his teammates, players like catcher Jason Veritek or pitcher Tim Wakefield; men whose stature came from a combination of talent and character on the field. Veritek and Wakefield honored the rules of the game and appeared to appreciate their teammates as much as their own stats. These men took the team’s losses in stride and showed signs of wanting to learn from them, vowing to be better next game. Manny, by comparison, seemed immature and unreliable in every way except the one that mattered: the score.

I’ve been reflecting on Ramirez recently after reading a commentator shrug off the president's controversial tweets and public statements with a familiar sounding line: “It’s just Trump being Trump.” This small phrase flipped a switch for me. Is this how Trump supporters feel? The way Red Sox Nation felt about Manny?

Ramirez and Trump have some interesting traits in common. They both have unconventional personas that they refuse to give up. They talk and act differently than the normal players in their fields. They both swing for the fences, then sit back and bask in their successes. Manny was known for lingering at the plate as he watched his home run balls loft up and over the fences. He’d run with an easy gait around the bases, strutting his power. Trump is known for holding campaign-style rallies that delight his base with bold talk of fake news, the wall, and his singular ability to make America great again. Trump soaks in the applause.

Then there is the flag waving. Trump’s recent visit to Texas in the wake of Hurricane Harvey showed him waving a Texas state flag as a symbol of optimism in the face of natural disaster. Ramirez, born in the Dominican Republic, became an American citizen in 2004. (He missed a Red Sox game to do so.) He ran onto the field at Fenway Park during his very next game carrying a fluttering American flag in his hand. The crowd went wild.

There are human failings these men share too. Ramirez abused drug policy and was suspended for 50 games, calling into question his natural abilities. Trump filed for bankruptcy six times, casting doubt on his much touted business prowess. And it must be said that both men rock a unique look for their locks. Trump’s orange-yellow flop and Ramirez’s signature dreadlocks have become visual shorthand for their brand: iconic and, yes, a little in-your-face weird that says, “I am who I am. Deal with it.”

This unlikely comparison of Ramirez to Trump is instructive only in helping those of us who need a path to understanding the unwavering devotion that Trump supporters feel toward the president. Is it some sort of Republican team allegiance, akin to a Red Sox fan's loyalty to Ramirez? And what exactly is the core talent that Trump has in the eyes of his fans? Why is he worth their affection?

The president's essential skill seems to be his unorthodox style, which he uses to break norms and disrupt our modern political system. After seven months on the job, hopes have vanished that Trump’s campaign-style persona will turn more presidential with on-the-job experience. His approach is still centered on brashness, bullying, and disinterest in policy details. His supporters seem to be betting that this is precisely the talent that will result in big wins for them. 

But Trump’s lack of decorum is troubling even among some Republicans who wonder whether their agenda is at risk, which brings us back to Ramirez. Because despite Ramirez’s outrageous behavior at times, his raw and indisputable talent for baseball allowed him to stay in the game at the highest levels. The man had chops with 21 grand slams and 29 postseason home runs. His native hitting power combined with a quirky, laissez-faire vibe was part of his charm. He was a different kind of ball player and Red Sox fans just got used to it. Comic relief and the main attraction rolled into one, Ramirez was an unlikely hero for a team that desperately needed a win. There's no denying that “Manny being Manny” was an essential linchpin for the Red Sox winning two World Series rings in 2004 and 2007. There's also no doubt that he delivered.

Can “Trump being Trump” translate into a winning strategy and what can he deliver? The president has made a calculation that he can treat politics like a game whose rules he controls, virtually ignoring the other branches of government and decades of convention when he chooses. No one knows yet if this will result in a losing or winning season overall. If Trump turns his remarkable talent for disruption into a triumphant Republican strategy for healthcare, tax reform, or the border wall, he could be viewed as successful by the history books. So far, his stats aren't all that impressive. But it's the final score that counts in baseball and presidential politics—ultimately defining a year, a team, or an era.

It remains to be seen what the boys of October will deliver this time on the field or on Capitol Hill. But Trump and the Republicans who are enabling him better deliver something substantial if their antics are to be overlooked. Just ask Manny.

Donald Trump, wonderful man

Newly minted White House Communications Director Anthony Scaramucci held his first press conference last Friday. In it, he gave one of the most baffling statements I've heard about President Trump: He called Donald Trump "a wonderful human being."

It's a phrase I can't get out of my head. I've heard Trump called many things: a champion for hardworking Americans, a serial liar, or a disruptive force (for good or evil, depending on your point of view). But a wonderful human being? 

It made me wonder how other people would define a "wonderful human being." It may be a loving, caring parent. A generous friend. A wise and patient mentor. A kind, encouraging teacher. For the sake of argument, I think most people would agree that a wonderful person is generous, kind, and wise, as well as optimistic and encouraging to others.

There's one more characteristic that wonderful people share. They treat virtually everyone with the same generosity and kindness. They don't pick and choose the people they treat respectfully. Their character is defined by an ethical backbone that is centered on the notion of a golden rule.

Donald Trump doesn't seem terribly concerned with ethics or rules. He seems to believe that his norm-busting administration was elected to tear down any person, institution, or legislation that displeases him—in the blink of an eye, with no regard for consequences. "How Do We Contend with Trump's Defiance of 'Norms'?" offers a terrific look at the fragility of norms in a functioning democracy. This article begins with a classic moment in which then-candidate Trump intentionally humiliates a young woman who asks him a question he does not like at a New Hampshire forum in October 2015. As the Times piece describes it: "An 18-year-old college student named Lauren Batchelder questioned whether Donald Trump was a ‘friend to women’ while asking about equal pay and female autonomy. The next morning on Twitter, Trump called Batchelder ‘arrogant’ and her manner ‘nasty,’ pointing a torrent of supporters’ violent threats her way."

Regardless how you feel about Trump's abrasive style, it's hard to argue the facts about Trump's basic nature. He routinely belittles and discredits those who disagree with him. He doesn't just attack those who attack him. He denigrates anyone who dares to hold different views than his. There is no room for discussion; there is no policy debate. If you do not adore his ideas, you risk being vilified. This includes members of his own party. Attorney General Jeff Sessions, who was one of Trump's earliest and most loyal supporters, is now considered persona non grata by Trump because, as Attorney General, Sessions recused himself from oversight of the Russia investigation, a move viewed widely by experts as the proper course of action. Or consider the Republicans in Congress who've been the recipient of Trump's public ire, such as U.S. Senator Dean Heller (R-Nev), who holds a vulnerable seat, yet was subjected to a public ribbing from Trump on healthcare as well as critical ads unleashed by a Trump-aligned Super PAC (those ads were pulled after an outcry from Senate Republicans.)

In Trump's playbook it's OK to undermine virtually anyone. He tags political opponents with petty names (crooked Hillary Clinton, lying Ted Cruz, sleazy Adam Schiff). He disparages the media as "fake news" and hurls personal insults at media personalities, such as MSNBC hosts Mika Brzezinski and Joe Scarborough, whom he called "low I.Q. Crazy Mika, along with Psycho Joe". He even berates international leaders, as when he chastised the Mayor of London in the wake of that city's terrorist attacks, tweeting: "At least 7 dead and 48 wounded in terror attack and Mayor of London says there is "no reason to be alarmed!"

When not attacking individuals, he's busy propping up his narrative with his trademark brash negativity. This was most recently on display during his cringeworthy, campaign-style speech at the Boy Scout Jamboree. Instead of providing uplifting oratory to a group of teenagers and their parents, Trump peppered his talk with a bit of profanity and plenty of mean-spirited political jabs at Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and the media. Trump, who was never a boy scout, seemed unaware that there is no merit badge for bullying. 

This well-defined pattern of behavior is inconsistent with the notion of Donald Trump as Mr. Wonderful. While it may be possible that Trump is kind and generous to his family and close friends, it really doesn't matter. Being nice only to people who agree with you, or look like you, or think like you is easy. But it's not enough. It's not even close to enough when you treat everyone else with cruel disdain.

Scaramucci's opener didn't help. It was another instance of a Trump administration official stating a falsehood that we can all see is not true (crowd size, anyone?). Scaramucci and the rest of Trump's administration would be better off avoiding any aggrandizements in an effort to sell Americans something most of us aren't buying. Especially as a growing number of Americans appear less tolerant of the president's behavior, as a recent USA Today poll suggests, finding that "only about one in four, 27%, of those polled express confidence he'll serve all four years of his term."

But sticking to the facts isn't what Trump does, nor how he encourages his staffers to act on his behalf. Clear, ethical communications aren't Trump's style. Lashing out is his style. Blaming others is his style. Civil treatment of fellow Americans? Nope. Taking personal responsibility for inaccurate statements and retracting them or apologizing to those he may have hurt? Never. My guess is that at least some Trump supporters believe these tactics aren't great, but others seem to revel in them. That's a choice in a free society. A sad choice, but a choice. Let's just not call Trump a wonderful human being. Because, quite simply, he is not.

Scaramucci's attempt to show Trump in a more humanizing light backfired. We know better. The Boy Scouts know better. The professional media knows better. Our Republican leaders should know better. The communications director's glowing characterization of Trump came across as just another ploy by surrogates to reflect the image that Trump imagines for himself. This delusion only underscores the gulf between the Trump we see, who indiscriminately shames people publicly, and the spin that the Trump administration propagates about this president as a wonderful human being who is being treated unfairly by the political establishment. Fake news? Or fake administration? You choose.

Can Donald Trump stay relevant?

After five months of the Trump presidency one thing is certain: Trump's tweets are nonstop. Trump tweets anything that comes to mind, at any hour, about any topic.

His tweeting may even have done the impossible: bring Americans together. Whether you love Trump or hate him, the majority of Americans agree the man's tweets hurt him more than help him. And that was before the latest contentious tweet, a stunningly personal insult of MSNBC host Mika Brzezinski, which drew strong denouncements from Republicans and Democrats alike.

"This has to stop," tweeted Senator Susan Collins (R-Maine) about Trump's recent Twitter tirade. "We all have a job—three branches of government and media. We don’t have to get along, but we must show respect and civility." 

Speaker of the House Paul Ryan (R-Wisconsin) chimed in. "Obviously I don't see that as an appropriate comment," he said, adding: "What we're trying to do around here is improve the tone, the civility of the debate. And this obviously doesn't help do that."

When questioned about Trump's vicious personal attacks on people who disagree with him and the dignity of his responses, White House spokesperson Sarah Huckabee Sanders claimed Trump's right to make personal attacks on others who've attacked him. "When he gets attacked, he's going to hit back...I don't think it's a surprise to anybody that he fights fire with fire." She stressed that the American people elected a fighter and knew exactly what they were getting.

Please Trump supporters, tell me: Is this what you thought you were getting? Trump's juvenile behavior does not serve any purpose other than to make him look unfit to be president. It certainly won't stop the media from acting as watchdogs to power, which is their job. 

Trump needs to stop confusing strength with bullying. He's the president of the United States for God's sake. People aren't always going to like what he says or does. He needs to put on his big boy pants and stop the nasty personal attacks on individuals who disagree with him. But he doesn't seem to know how to rise above the petty grievances that get under his skin, taking his attention away from the domestic policy issues and international affairs that need every ounce of his attention. He's a public servant with the most extraordinary responsibilities, but he acts like a cornered boxer interested only in defending his title.

Does Trump really want to be the biggest bully on the playground, attacking not only America's enemies, but individual Americans who call him to task? Or does he possibly believe that Americans who disagree with him are his enemies? How does this approach help bridge our cultural and political divide? And how can Trump ask his detractors—as he occasionally does—to join him as part of one unified America? He can't deepen the divide with venomous attacks and expect the people he denigrates to rally behind him. It's nonsensical. 

Trump's logic escapes many of us, most of the time. Conservative commentator George Will neatly summed Trump up as an "improvisational amateur." There is no way to tell what Trump is thinking and what his next political move may be. North Korea? Health care? Vulgar tweet about a media host? It's a kaleidoscope. It's frightening not to know what your president is capable of doing next. 

And all of this doesn't even scratch the surface of two other jaw-dropping revelations this week. The New York Times reported on the dozens of indisputable and outright lies that Trump has told since taking the oath of office. The Times makes the case for bearing witness to the ongoing deceptions that the Trump administration uses as a matter of course. These are objective, nonpartisan facts; not fake news, as Trump's minions seem to paint the facts they don't like.

World leaders are equally dismayed. A Pew Research Center survey of 37 nations found a median of just 22% has confidence in Trump to do the right thing when it comes to international affairs. Trust in the American administration has dropped precipitously since President Obama left office.

Trump supporters seem relatively unfazed by the president's incivility and tenuous grasp of reality. I guess they blame the media, content to imagine that all media is fake or has treated Trump unfairly.  I'm not sure why they aren't concerned; they should be. If a boss or a pastor or a best friend treated you with such vitriol and indifference, you would not stand for it. You'd find a new job, a new church, or a new friend.

All of this adds up to a huge risk for Trump. His impulsive, mean-spirited nature may goad him into unwittingly realizing his greatest fear: he may soon be irrelevant. Rude behavior, reckless untruths, and incessant tweeting—designed to bolster Trump's ego and make him appear like a stronger leader—are undermining his own credibility. The result? He's just the little boy who cried wolf. Soon we may not pay any attention to him or his tweets at all. And that's a great sadness for all Americans who yearn to respect the office of the presidency, even when we cannot find a way to respect the man. Sad.