Michael Ventre

I know that the comparison is being thrown around lately featuring Manny Ramirez as Samson, but I’d prefer to ignore it. There’s something about imagining Joe Torre as a scheming buxom temptress that makes me want to hurl.

And yet, there is Manny, shorn just a bit, looking like less of a hitter. Delilah he’s not, but the Dodgers’ manager is the one who asked Ramirez to comply with team policy and trim his dreadlocks.

As a result, Manny has struggled and the Dodgers have suffered, losing eight straight before rebounding Saturday against the Diamondbacks. Coincidentally, Los Angeles won 6-2 over Arizona thanks to two homers from Ramirez. That's the form he displayed in his first 12 games as a Dodger, when he hit .466 with five dingers and 16 RBI.

Perhaps the team trainer can prepare a Propecia-Rogaine cocktail. Or maybe the HairClub For Men can stage an emergency “dreads” seminar. The Dodgers had better settle on a course of action soon, because they’re slipping in the National League West, trailing the first-place Diamondbacks by 3 1/2 games.

When the trade was engineered to wrest Manny from the Red Sox for a relative bag of chips, the Dodgers and Diamondbacks had been locked in a mortal struggle to see which would crest the .500 mark first and then stay there. With Manny on board, it was believed by many that his presence would be just what the club needed to assert itself and capture the division.

It worked for a while. But Manny’s magic faded, and the Dodgers have stumbled. The problem lately has been a lack of run production. The most the Dodgers scored during their eight-game skid was four runs.

Needless to say, Manny isn’t driving in runs like he used to. The hair is the only noticeable difference. The only other fathomable reasons for his sudden decline are 1) an injury, which doesn’t appear to be the case, or 2) he agreed to a contract extension with the Dodgers and therefore is no longer in a salary drive, which doesn’t seem to apply either, because if he had, Scott Boras would have announced it during the middle of Michael Phelps’ eighth gold medal race.

And there’s a chance that Manny is not having the intended effect on his teammates, but rather the opposite. In Boston, he was often criticized for not hustling. So far, he’s been fine as a Dodger, with only one incident on his blotter when he was late taking the field because he was visiting the men’s room.

Manny is the kind of player who, when it’s the bottom of the ninth and he’s scheduled to hit and the anticipation is through the roof, could be seated comfortably inside the clubhouse watching Bugs Bunny cartoons. Perhaps that chronically carefree attitude has spread to his teammates.

Larry Bowa, the Dodgers’ third-base coach, told the Los Angeles Times last week: “If you can’t get up emotionally and mentally when you’re two or three games out of first place, you need to find another job, another occupation. That’s what I see. I’ve seen teams play like this when they’re 30 games out. There’s no excuse for it.

“It’s not one person. It’s all of us. It’s everybody that puts on a Dodger uniform. We should all be embarrassed by the way we played the last four days.”