Yes, he’s a drug cheat. Absolutely, I wish the Dodgers had washed their hands of him after he served his 50-game suspension.

But Manny Ramirez has a way of delivering big hits in dramatic moments.

I was one of 56,000 people in the house at Dodger Stadium on Wednesday night. For Manny Ramirez Bobblehead Night.

As I have written before, I will go to just about any bobblehead night. I love bobbleheads. They make me laugh. Always. Nothing like Landon Donovan and Bryon Russell nodding at me every time the desk shakes a little …

So, Manny isn’t in the lineup, because he got plunked on the left hand Tuesday night. He was sore. He didn’t take batting practice. Sitting this one out. Sorry.

But we still got the porcelain doll. Which almost looks like him. His face isn’t that narrow. And the pose is an odd one. Instead of him holding a bat, or even him and a glove, it’s Manny running.  Maybe even sprinting. And Manny doesn’t sprint. “Running” is not something we associate with Manny Ramirez. Jogging, maybe.

Anyway, he’s out of the lineup, but we get our bobblehead … yes, with dreads spilling out of his batting helmet … but then he gives the crowd a lot more.

Bottom of the sixth, 2-2 game vs. the Reds. Dodgers looking for a sweep, and trying to go 27 games over .500 for the first time since the last day of the 1988 season — the year the Dodgers last won the World series.

With one out, James Loney walks. After a long battle against Reds starter Bronson Arroyo, Matt Kemp also walks. Russell Martin follows with a sharp single to center, on Arroyo’s 100th pitch, and Loney is stopped at third base by coach Larry Bowa.

And then several things happen.

There is movement in the Dodgers dugout. Mark Loretta, who had been out in the on-deck circle, waiting to hit for Chad Billingsley, is called back. And fans begin to cheer and stand.

Manny Ramirez is handing for the bat rack, and how fans in the upper decks can see this, I have no idea. But the crowd is getting jacked up.

Dusty Baker springs out of the Cincinnati dugout. Arroyo vs. Ramirez is a right-on-right matchup, but Baker doesn’t want his starter, perhaps tiring on a warm night, to face Manny. He calls for Nick Masset, a big right-hander, a power pitcher who is having a very nice season — a 2.37 ERA, a microscopic WHIP of 0.93 and 35 strikeouts in 38 innings.

Even before Baker makes his decision, most of 56,000 are on their feet because Manny is coming out of the dugout on Manny Bobblehead Night, and this is what everyone came for. To cheer for the man whose tiny body double is inside a blue box they have been clutching all night.

They remain standing almost en masse (and even I get up, because I can’t see over/past the people standing in front of me, Loge Section, Aisle 140, Row L).

Masset is done warming up. Manny is announced as a pinch-hitter for Billingsley. The crowd goes bonkers. I point out to my childhood chum, Frankie, whose partial ownership of two season tickets has gotten us into these particular seats, that every camera in the house seems to be flashing as Manny gets into the box.

Masset uncorks a hard one (clocked at 96 mph), fairly low … but far too close to the middle of the plate.

And Manny crushes it.

The stadium explodes in sound as the ball takes off on a line toward the lower deck of seats down the left-field line. Yes, the “Mannywood” section. And the ball hits someone’s hands about six rows deep into the seats.

Grand slam. Dodgers lead 6-2, and the stadium is in an uproar. I find myself being high-fived by guys all around me, including people I haven’t even spoken to or made eye contact with in the first six innings of the game. People are going crazy. Jumping and shouting.

Manny chugs around the bases, master of the great moment once again, and the Dodgers give him a reception almost as enthusiastic as the one the fans are giving him, and several of them shove him up out of the dugout to tip his helmet to the crowd, which roars even louder. The game then resumes, but no one seems to notice because they’re still cheering Manny.

And, presumably, fans were thinking “how cool is it that I came to Manny Bobblehead Night, and got my Manny bobblehead … and Manny didn’t start, but he came out to pinch hit with the bases loaded — and hit the first pitch into the seats to win the game for the Dodgers?” Like, 56,000 people were thinking the exact same thought. (Well, aside from the 6,000 or so fans who didn’t get bobbleheads because the Dodgers apparently distributed “only” 50,000 of them.)

Three interesting stats here: The grand slam was Manny’s 21st, leaving him only two behind Lou Gehrig on the all-time list of career grand slams. But it was his first career pinch homer and, according to Dodgers radio guy Charley Steiner, only the second pinch hit in Manny’s career.

And one silly stat: The Dodgers announce that Manny’s homer is “the first ever hit by a Dodger on his bobblehead night.”

Gee. That’s a lot to digest, considering it’s one game in July. Albeit one game that had a World Series-caliber moment of excitement.

Looking again at the Manny bobblehead, and I have just noticed one other accurate bit to the doll, which has now joined my collection on the computer desk — the Chinese artisans who did the paint job have managed to add ragged, brown patches around the “LA” on Manny’s helmet. Representing the pine tar Manny slops onto his batting helmets from Opening Day forward. Nice touch.

Anyway, yeah, the guy is a showman. No question. A drug cheat, but a showman drug cheat. The vast majority of Dodgers fans apparently will forgive the “drug cheat” part in exchange for moments like this one. I won’t. But that doesn’t mean I won’t forget what I saw, either.