David Ortiz: Boston's Slugging Dominican: Red Sox DH has developed into one of he most feared hitters in the majors with his knack for coming through in the clutch.

WHEN DAVID ORTIZ ENTERS A clubhouse, he strides in, confidently, almost dancing. He looks as if he owns the world and, at this moment, perhaps he does.

He says this is who he is. He is the man with the smile, joking and yelling and grinning all at once. His personality reaches out, into the stands, through the TV, across a table. He says it in his clothing choices--the man prefers matching shirt-and-cap combos that are often about as loud as his voice.

"I think everybody pretty much knows what it's all about with me," Ortiz says. "I don't like and I don't believe in people who are pretty normal when everything is going well and they change when they see a bump in the road. I let them know straight up I don't like it. That's the way I am. I don't like lies. I don't like two faces. I don't feel comfortable with it. I'll tell you what I feel in a heartbeat. That's me."

David Ortiz, on the field and off, does not hide.

That's part of the reason the slugger suddenly has become the most popular player in baseball. Two and a half seasons after he was not tendered a contract by the Minnesota Twins, Ortiz received more votes than any other player last July's All-Star Game, picking up 4,138,141, including more online tallies than anyone else.

It's why he is beloved. Ortiz isn't the enigma that Manny Ramirez is. He doesn't have the stoic, no-nonsense persona of Jason Varitek. He isn't confrontational and dramatic--except in his flair for the game-winner--like Curt Schilling. Ortiz is what he is.

The only question is what made him that way.