Mr. Alex Rodriguez
Los Angeles or
Chicago or
San Francisco or
Anaheim or
Queens, NY or
St. Louis
Dear Mr. Rodriguez,
In 1996, I was immortalized on film by starring as myself as “distraught twelve-year old fan” in that year’s World Series video. With this, I have officially contributed more to a championship team than you have. As you leave New York this week after four disappointing years, you will cement your place in team history as the greatest player we’ve ever had - in the month of April. Disappointing? you ask. How can 54 home runs be disappointing? Easy. Because they didn’t come in October. Welcome to New York, Alex, where nothing matters until game 163. You knew that coming in. You sure as hell understand that going out. And while you were here, you lost.
We ask only two things of our players in the Bronx: that they be classy and that they be clutch. You have been neither. In a city where Derek Jeter could run for mayor and win, you might have glanced in your captain’s general direction for some advice on how to be a Yankee. Jeter would never have slapped a ball away from a first baseman or yelled “I got it!” while running the bases. If you want to win, Jeter would say, do it with your glove and do it with your bat. Jeter would never have called out his teammates in a Sports Illustrated interview or blamed his ethnic background on his on-field shortcomings. You had the nerve to tell SI’s Tom Verducci, “When people write [bad things] about me, I don't know if it's [because] I'm good-looking, I'm biracial, I make the most money, I play on the most popular team....” Derek Jeter is good-looking, biracial, makes over $20 million per year, and plays on the same popular team. The difference is that he plays with respect and that he comes through when it matters.
For four years, Alex, we tried to like you. We really did. We cheered you all season and boo’d you only when you deserved it – like when we realized that you have a worse post-season batting average than both Raul Mondesi and Cecil Fielder. We watched you hit number 500 and enjoyed the stats as they piled up. And we believed you when you said you wanted to stay. I mean, why wouldn’t we have believed you? You said, “I want to 100 percent stay in New York. Period. That's it.” But that obviously wasn’t it. When you opted out of your contract this week, you slammed the door on any appreciation – or forgiveness – we might have given you. Don’t expect to be invited back for Old Timer’s Day or to have your unlucky 13 retired alongside number two. And when you’re inducted into Cooperstown in fifteen years or so, don’t plan on swinging through the Bronx on your way up there. And don’t you dare think you’re wearing our symbol on your cap.
But for all the bad you did in your time here, Alex, you did do the impossible. You became the one person who brought Yankees fans and Red Sox fans together – in contempt for you. In recent days, our fans have found themselves envious for the first time of Sox catcher Jason Varitek, not because he won the World Series this week but because he once had the privilege of punching you in the face with his catcher’s mitt. Just wait until you come back here next year. History might repeat itself. Then again, we tend not to throw at guys who can’t even hit .245 in the postseason.
Love and kisses,
Dave G
