(EDITOR’S NOTE : From time to time, noted baseball executive Randy L. of the Bronx brings his expertise and insight to CSTB’s readership. Upon learning earlier today that Yankees 3B Alex Rodriguez is mounting a lawsuit against Major League Baseball and Bud Selig, Randy offered…no, he demanded, to have his say – GC)
October is a special time of year in the Levine household. Halloween preparations (we’ve already got John Sterling’s costume picked out), checking out the annual offerings from Dick Wolf’s production house, but most importantly, our favorite pursuit is gathering around the television to watch postseason baseball. Of course, this postseason isn’t nearly as special, what with the World’s Most Successful Professional Sporting Franchise of All-Time being a non-participant, but I’m sure it’s a magical moment for those who live in godforsaken places like Oakland, St. Louis, Detroit, Boston, etc. And it seems a crying shame to me that fans in those cities aren’t being allowed to savor that moment without some sickening, self-obsessed ingrate interrupting TBS’ excellent postseason coverage so we could focus YET AGAIN on whatever crisis is happening in his pathetic life.
But enough about that punk, Matt Harvey. I’d wish the kid good luck with the surgery, but I’d be lying. And the only thing lower than a liar is a liar who seems addicted to lying, as though the lying were some sort of superpower-inducing drug that you could inject into your hind quarters. I’ve done my best to try and find a solution for Alex Rodriguez’ problems this year — heck, I even made him the lynchpin of a blockbuster trade offer — but we are well and truly past the point of no return.
One media outlet says of A-Rod’s latest stunt, “the suit accuses the league and Bud Selig of planting negative stories about Rodriguez in the news.” Not so fast, THAT’S MY FUCKING JOB. And I’ve got to tell you, very often, my efforts have been thoroughly unnecessary! Did the league or the New York Yankees try to slap a baseball out of Bronson Arroyo’s mitt like Rue McClanahan trying to fend off the late Terry “Bam Bam” Gordy? Did MLB or this universally respected franchise have anything to do with Alex Rodriguez kicking his lovely wife to the curb in favor of a succession of hulking paramours, some of whom made Terry “Bam Bam” Gordy look downright feminine by comparison? Was it Bud Selig who installed the Centaur above A-Rod’s bed? Did Rob Manfred talk Alex into wearing purple lipstick on a nationally televised interview, or advise him that “loosey-goosey” was the sort thing that would curry sympathy?
Alex’s inability to look himself in the mirror, his refusal to take stock and accept responsibility for wounds that are entirely self-inflicted, reminds me of no one else as much as former album radio fixture Billy Squier. Squier once infamously sued the director of the above music video for ruining his career, as though a brilliant auteur like Kenny Ortega came up with the idea all by himself for Squier to writhe around like Jennifer Beals’ understudy (ask your parents). The only person to blame for Billy Squier becoming a laughing stock was Billy Squier, much as 100% of the credit for making Alex Rodriguez look like an asshole is down to Alex Rodriguez.
OK, I’ll accept maybe 10% of the credit.
In conclusion, I deeply regret the way today’s talk of legal proceedings have overshadowed what oughta be some terrific playoff baseball between whatever secondary market, bullshit-tiny-town-teams that aren’t the New York Yankees. I’ll do my best for the rest of this month to focus on what happens between the lines, but I am deeply saddened at the cheap, cynical way in which Alex Rodriguez has tarnished the legacy of this great sporting institution. It was my fervent hope a few years ago, that not only would A-Rod someday challenge for the all-time HR crown, but in terms of personal deportment, he would eventually be considered the latest in a long line of Yankee greats including but not limited to Mickey Rivers, Danny Tartabull, Steve Howe, Hideki Irabu and Chad Curtis.
As it turns out, he’s not fit to pack any of their lunches. And when you consider Howe is dead and Curtis is headed to a maximum security prison, I’m hardly talking about very heavy lunches that come in several Tupperware containers.
I LIVE FOR THIS,