Yo, Meathead!

So I might have used this column to write about the Super Bowl. Yeah, sure, it was a fantastic game. Sure, the Cardinals really have nothing to be ashamed about, taking the Steelers down to the wire after 61 years of not even sniffing a championship. Sure, Ben Roethlisberger’s final drive can be compared to Eli Manning’s in last year’s game against the Patriots. (In my opinion, Manning’s drive was the greater, against tougher odds, in a tougher situation, against a much tougher defense.)

But how could I write about anything today except for A-Rod?

Of course I can’t stand the guy, especially since he plays for the Yankees. But there’s even more to dislike about Alex Rodriguez. He’s obsessed with his image—to the point that in his new book, Joe Torre implies that A-Rod is more concerned with how he might look in a clutch situation than with helping his team win. He’s a major distraction to his team and baseball in general. He went out in public with strippers while he was still married. He’s an egomaniac but still acts like an insecure 10-year-old. (Remember how he pined for Derek Jeter’s friendship and approval for years until he was finally able to act like a man and move on? If he hadn’t trashed Jeter in the media, maybe it never would’ve been an issue.) Need I go on?

Now add in steroids to this equation, and A-Rod comes off as even more of a jerk than before, which is saying something. In his interview yesterday with ESPN’s Peter Gammons, in which he admitted his steroid use, Gammons threw softball after softball, letting A-Rod off the hook in a way that Katie Couric never did with Sarah Palin! Now we’re supposed to like A-Rod again because he admitted his mistake—even though he never really answered the tough questions, even though he wants us to believe that he didn’t know what he was taking, that he couldn’t admit to himself that he was doing something wrong, that his only years of indiscretion were 2001 to 2003. What a joke!

Anyone who knows me knows I have no love for the Yankees, but I certainly have respect for Jeter, Jorge Posada, and whoever plays hard and comports themselves with dignity inside the three-ring circus that is the Yankees organization. Now, once again, A-Rod has thrown spring training into an uproar. Does anyone really think Jeter relishes the idea of answering stupid question after stupid question about his teammate with the bloated ego and bloated contract? And another funny thing—that period when A-Rod was comparing himself to Jeter and saying that Jeter’s stats didn’t hold a candle to his, that Jeter wasn’t the guy in the lineup that was feared by the opposition? Guess what? Those were A-Rod’s ’roid years! Ya think Derek Jeter has even more of a reason to be peeved about it now, years after he has let it go?

Even though I dislike A-Rod, my hatred runs much deeper for Barry Bonds. I had high hopes of watching A-Rod approach, and then break, Bonds’s all-time home-run record, thinking that, yes, A-Rod’s an ass, but at least he’s clean, so take that, Barry! Now, even that dream has been ruined. Now I cringe at the prospect of watching A-Rod hit his home runs, passing Bonds while the Yankee fans adore him and the rest of the baseball world jeers. I lived in the San Francisco Bay Area while Bonds pursued the record, and the fan adulation, even in the face of overwhelming evidence of steroid use, made me gag. I know what the frenzy will be like among Yankee fans—it will just give me reason to hate the Yankees even more, if that’s possible.

As for the home-run record—it will probably need an A-Sterisk.