In the span of five days, the two biggest potential distractions for the Red Sox this spring essentially vanished.

01:00 AM EST on Tuesday, March 7, 2006

BY SEAN McADAM
Journal Sports Writer

ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. -- Ordinarily, problems don't go away when you ignore them. But then, there's seldom anything ordinary about the Red Sox.

In the span of five days, the two biggest potential distractions for the Red Sox this spring essentially vanished, without much prompting. First, Manny Ramirez showed up, appearing reasonably fit, focused and happy. Then, over the weekend, David Wells dropped his trade request.

It's not important that, along the way, both Ramirez and Wells fudged the truth.

Ramirez and his agent Greg Genske suggested that they had never asked out of town, which was so disingenuous as to be laughable.

Meanwhile, Wells said he had wrestled with the idea of staying in Boston, and decided he could make the supreme sacrifice for another season. In reality, his change of heart was dictated by the fact that, thanks to his surgically repaired knee, he isn't ready to showcase himself for other teams. What's more, the market was decidedly thin for a 42-year-old with knee problems, weight issues and a contract that could grow to $7.5 million.

The lesson learned here is this: Given time, problematic players will eventually reverse direction. Ramirez has asked for a trade in virtually every season, only to appear wounded when he very nearly was traded to Texas two years ago. Ramirez's disposition is not unlike the old bromide about the New England weather -- if you don't like it, just wait a minute.

It's much the same with Wells, who has a career-long habit of speaking his mind first, and getting the right answers later.

Wisely, the Red Sox didn't overreact to either of their temporarily disenchanted players. The Sox put out a press release announcing that they had jointly agreed with Ramirez on his reporting date, then ignored him until the day came.

Similarly, after Wells gave a rambling 30-minute dissertation in front of his locker Sunday afternoon, riffing everything from Boston to the Rolling Stones to his repaired knee, generalo manager Theo Epstein shrugged off the breathless announcement and reminded reporters that Wells had a penchant for "drama."

As part of their new mandate to say as little as possible, the members of the Red Sox management team seem to have stumbled onto a truism in Boston: The less said about potentially controversial matters, the better. Developments that are barely noticed with other teams have a way of morphing into major issues with the Sox. The more they get talked about, the more traction they get.

Of course, the relative peace that exists in Red Sox camp isn't guaranteed to last the season. As a matter of fact, given Ramirez's history, it's virtually a given that there will be a few incidents before the 2006 season is over. The Sox have already built these into the budget.

But given the chaos that surrounded the Red Sox over the winter, it was critical that they have a tranquil spring training.

By allowing Ramirez to report a week after the rest of the position players, the Red Sox were throwing the slugger a proverbial bone. When Ramirez said he preferred to continue working out at home, the Sox had nothing to lose. What was to gain by having Ramirez in camp on time, but miffed?

Instead, the Sox made a small concession and Ramirez walked away thinking he had gotten the upper hand.

And if the club risks looking weak in letting a player dictate his reporting date?

"If the choice is between someone thinking I'm weak," said manager Terry Francona, "and getting 140 RBI (from Ramirez), I'm willing to take that trade-off."

From here, it seems like a small price to pay. If handling Ramirez with care gets the desired result, it's a worthwhile investment. His teammates grasped this last summer, when they made a point to publicly push David Ortiz for the MVP at the end of August, often saving their most lavish praise when Ramirez was within earshot.

His pride wounded that his teammates didn't view him as a contender for the award, Ramirez went on a tear in September, hitting .309 with 12 homers and 29 RBI.

Mission accomplished.

As for Wells, he revealed that he had "thrown it out there," to Epstein that he might be more inclined to fall in love with Boston if more of his contract became guaranteed. Struggling to keep a straight face, Epstein calmly informed him that wasn't about to happen.

That's baseball, 2006. A player under contract for the season says he wants to play elsewhere and suggests it's the team's duty to accommodate his request. But, if you sweeten his money, he might do you the favor of changing his mind and honoring his commitment.

Eventually, it all worked out. Which suggests that the Sox might do well to take this same approach in the future: When confronted by a potential distraction, don't just do something -- stand there!

smcadam@projo.com / (401) 277-7340