This morning’s Pinch Hitter post shouldn’t be asking for too much, but it might be the least likely scenario in this whole Alex Rodriguez mess.
A sincere and believable apology? True and total forgiveness? Any sort of happy ending for Rodriguez, the Yankees, and the game of baseball? It’s a nice wish, and perhaps a worthwhile prayer, but aren’t we past that already?
If you’re looking for sincerity and hope, I would point to the words Dennis wrote: “I speak of something very real. This ‘real’ needs to play out. A-Rod can step up to the plate and do something great. He can be very sorry.”
There’s sincere hope there, but I wonder if it’s misplaced. Rodriguez is probably sorry, and I’m sure he’s filled with regret. I bet it even goes beyond the surface level, that he’s not simply sorry he got caught. Surely Rodriguez can look back on his teenaged talent, recognize his potential to be truly great, and realize that his own lies and shortcuts have ruined his legacy. Blame Sports Illustrated or Bud Selig or baseball culture all you want — Rodriguez’s fall from grace started with his own decisions.
And I honestly think baseball wants to forgive. Andy Pettitte’s steroid admission is barely a footnote in his career. Jason Giambi is beloved and even respected in the game. Mark McGwire is a hitting coach. Nelson Cruz, Jhonny Peralta and Melky Cabrera have each landed lucrative contracts after PED suspensions.
But is there any hope of Rodriguez following that path? At this point, he’s drifted so far off course so many times, I’m not sure he could find the path. Instead of sincerity and forgiveness, perhaps this is a more realistic hope for these next three years of A-Rod.
1. An open discussion
Of course Rodriguez needs to apologize. Of course he needs to promise he’ll never do it again. Those statements are a a given, even if they’re ultimately meaningless and easy to ignore after all the times we’ve heard it before. What’s more important is that Rodriguez really talks about what happened. Perhaps there are legal reasons he can’t give all the details, but he can’t hide behind the law completely. Whatever questions he doesn’t answer in that inevitable spring training press conference will only be asked again and again throughout the season. Make this whole thing a little less scandalous by making it all a part of the public record.
2. A financial compromise
A contract is a contract, and the Yankees signed a bad one. They know it, we know it, and even Rodriguez must know it. The fact the Yankees haven’t gotten out of that contract already is proof enough that they’re locked in for the next three years. They might release him, but they’re still going to pay him. Where there might be middle ground is in those home run bonuses. The players’ union should back A-Rod if the Yankees refuse to pay them — it’s in the best interest of the union that contracts pay at the highest level — but the Yankees would have full public support if they were to find a way out of it. What if Rodriguez announces that every home run bonus will go to charity? What if Major League Baseball decides that a marketing clause isn’t part of a standard contract anyway, and these particular bonuses won’t count toward the luxury tax (probably a reach, but maybe not)? If there’s a way to avoid another fight, that’s a positive for everyone involved.
3. A willing No. 8 hitter
Give Rodriguez credit for this much: When Joe Girardi benched him and pinch hit for him back in 2012, Rodriguez handled it the best way possible. He didn’t complain. Didn’t duck questions. Didn’t throw Girardi under the bus or whisper negative comments about Raul Ibanez. If Girardi decides Rodriguez is little more than a platoon designated hitter, Rodriguez needs to do the same this season. He can — and should — make it clear that he’s working to be an everyday third baseman again, but he has to be nothing but supportive if and when he’s less than that. If he’s on the bench on Opening Day and batting eighth in his first start, he has to explain that he’s had a year off and is still working hard to get up to speed. If he’s better than that, great. If not, Rodriguez can’t make it even more of a story that it will be anyway.
4. A model employee (with quiet bosses)
It was in January of 2013 that news of Biogenesis first broke, and in the months that followed, Rodriguez seemed to do whatever he could to make the situation worse. He sued baseball, sued the Yankees’ doctor, claimed mistreatment, gave brutal public comments, and separated himself so significantly that Brian Cashman once admitted he wasn’t comfortable talking to his most highly paid player. It’s remarkable that Rodriguez didn’t burn every bridge in baseball that year, but here he is, still moving forward, so some bridges must still be intact. If he starts burning bridges again in 2015, he’ll truly end up on an island with no way home. But that has to go both ways. If Rodriguez is playing nice, the Yankees and Major League Baseball have to do the same. They don’t have to like one another, but if they’re going to be stuck together with some desire to make this work, they have to at least nod politely and say hello in the hallway.
5. A good enough player
This isn’t really a decision, but it might be crucial to keeping this whole thing from falling apart. Rodriguez needs to be a major-league-caliber player. He doesn’t have to be great. Doesn’t have to hit cleanup. Doesn’t have to play third base. But Rodriguez needs to play some sort of role for at least a couple of years. If not, he’s heading for a new sort of tension. It just seems too much to ask that the Yankees and Rodriguez continue to play nice while the team clearly has no reason to keep him on its roster, and we’ve seen the way Rodriguez reacts when things get desperate. Baseball’s best hope for a peaceful resolution is that Rodriguez plays well enough, provide some productive at-bats, makes no fuss about his role, and finally walks away without another fight or another scandal.
Forgiveness? Sincerity? Maybe not. Rodriguez’s career should have ended with an epic celebration throughout baseball, but at this point, the best hope might be that it ends with a peaceful handshake and a quiet walk into retirement.