I remember it well because of its implausibility. I posed the question on my professional sports radio show in high school back in the spring of 2005 as a gambit to get a rise out of my co-host, an ardent Red Sox fan. He laughed after I read it over the airwaves, and I couldn't help but chuckle myself: what would be a more intriguing steroids story? A story of Jeter or a story of A-Rod? Again, it was the implausibility of the thing. Two of baseball's greatest icons, playing for the same team, on the same side of the infield. The former: the walking definition of class, who always led by example and had four World Series rings to prove it. The latter: the walking definition of insincerity, whose signature moment came when he intentionally slapped Bronson Arroyo's arm, the pitcher trying to tag him en route to first base on a ground out, and has zero World Series titles to prove it, but who might still go down as the most talented player to ever walk the Earth.
But despite their differences, both men, at least to our knowledge, had played the game the right way: substance-free. And that's why the question was so implausible.
"Personally I think Jeter would be the more intriguing story," I argued. "He just doesn't fit the profile at all; I would be absolutely shocked, and probably even a little depressed if I found out that Jeter had been on steroids. A-Rod on the other hand? I think that would be more funny than anything. I mean, I don't believe either of them has done it in their careers, but the way A-Rod has played his first year-and-a-half with the Yankees, and the shenanigans that he has pulled, I think most people would find that story comical."
Comical. It might have seemed that way at the time, because of the inconceivability of that story ever surfacing, but when I woke up late Saturday morning and stared at espn.com's homepage only to read the words that would change baseball forever—"BREAKING NEWS: A-Rod Tested Positive for Steroids in '03"—I wasn't laughing. Not even close.
The guy who had broken the bank (twice) as baseball's richest player, gained notoriety as the league's least clutch performer, been part of as many controversial stories off the field as on, a unique blend of unprecedented talent, choke artistry, and a fictitious, calculated persona all in a gargantuan 6-3, 225 pound frame, who had never really looked quite right in Yankee pinstripes had, at one point in his career, been on the juice. So why wasn't I relishing this hilariousness with some good, clean laughter? What was wrong with me? I had, not once, since his joining New York back in 2004, sanctioned his presence in the Yankee daily lineup. I just couldn't bring myself to support a phony man who always failed when it counted. It was like a long-time friend and Yankee fan once told me: "If A-Rod succeeds, great. If he fails...even better."
But here I sat in the dark, reading the lead article line for line, word for word, still trying to fully comprehend the riveting news that had just five minutes ago been released to the world, and cracking not a smile, nor eliciting a chuckle. And why? Because although the enigmatic and troubled third baseman, who had caused my fellow Yankee fans and I more general distress and anxiety these past five years than we're probably aware of, A-Rod had one redeeming, bulletproof quality that no one could take away from him even if they tried: Alex Rodriguez was the savior of baseball.
In an era devoid of truth and purity, led by the now adulterated names of McGwire, Sosa, and Bonds, Alex Rodriguez was rare: a Mr. Clean with hair. Throughout his entire career, he had played the game the right way. No 'Roids. No Drugs. No nothing. Period. He would step up to the plate, take some hacks, and with his sweet swing hypnotize us into a kind of an amnesia, allowing us to forget the McGwires, Sosas, and finally Bonds, whose inconvenient homerun record total of 762 was expected to be broken eventually by Mr. Clean himself. Hate him or love him, Alex Rodriguez, after Jackie Robinson, was arguably baseball's most important player.
Then came Saturday's news in the surrealist of forms. The man who had denied ever using performance-enhancing drugs multiple times throughout his career, arguably the most talented in history and the current face of baseball, in an interview with Peter Gammons admitted to using performance-enhancing drugs for three seasons while playing for the Texas Rangers from 2001-2003. And boom goes the dynamite. But in reality, boom goes baseball.
As fans, who can we trust now? Especially when you consider that Rodriguez was just one name from a list of 104 players who had tested positive for steroids in 2003. It also makes you wonder which players failed tests in previous years leading up to, and exceeding 2003, that have not yet been released. And if Alex Rodriguez is guilty, then the game's next perpetrator to surface shouldn't surprise us in the slightest.
It's a vast understatement to say that it's been a rough year for Alex Rodriguez. The Yankees missed the playoffs for the first time in fourteen years, he was divorced from his wife Cynthia with their two children, he was mercilessly slandered as "A-Fraud" by the normally soft-spoken Joe Torre in his latest book "The Yankee Years," and then immediately shed that nickname, and with Saturday's news, appropriately was crowned "A-Roid," or even worse, "A-Hole."
But at least he admitted to his wrongdoing (I don't think I even want to imagine the circus that would have resulted from him denying the initial report). Yet, in the grand scheme of things, it still means very little. He did it. Plain and simple. And now he'll have to pay the price.
The Yankees have already announced that they will give A-Rod their full support, much like they did with Jason Giambi and Andy Pettitte, citing that they understand that he is human and not immune to fault. But apparently, he is immune to moral integrity. Part of me feels the Yankees should make a huge statement and just cut ties with the three-time MVP, and swallow the remaining $250 million or so remaining on his enormous contract. And while the indigestion of the check would be especially excruciating, the message would be loud and clear: enough is enough.
A wise man once said, "You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time." I guess A-Rod is the one exception to that rule; he had all of us fooled to the inner core. And now, with a tainted and very possibly destroyed legacy, Alex Rodriguez will have to wait, take responsibility, and like any human being, suffer the ramifications of his actions. And we, like any sports fans, will have to sit and watch it all unfold. Baseball has been compromised, and the forecast indefinitely remains dark and cloudy.