Night in Mannywood: Fans Blind to Truth
LOS ANGELES -- Here in Mannywood -- Section 51, Row H, Seat 15, Wig Size M -- no one cares that the hero committed a hideous baseball crime. Nor do they care that a writer from the civilized world is sitting among them on a lovely night, wondering if they should be lobotomized for glorifying a drug cheat. All they know is that their faux dreadlocks are in place, their No. 99 jerseys are worn proudly and the epicenter of their existence is back and playing left field for the Dodgers, under a summer sky that is true blue even when Manny Ramirez was not.
"This is my town,'' he announced.
More like his brainwashed cult, actually.