A-Roid revealed as A-Fraud

Put yourself in the Yankees' shoes today and start looking for an exit strategy for Alex Rodriguez. Good luck. The Bombers have nine years left on a contract they now believe was fraudulently negotiated -- but there's not much they can do about it..

Still, they're trying. Soon after Sports Illustrated broke the news that A-Rod tested positive for steroids in 2003, a Yankee official placed a call to the commissioner's office to determine if the story was true. The Bombers were told not to bother digging, as the results of the test are (or were) confidential. There'll be no exceptions, not even for the aggrieved party, the Yankees.

Nevertheless, even without hard proof, the Bombers say they're not entirely surprised Rodriguez was caught. As one high-ranking official said Saturday, "At this point, I have to assume everyone is guilty."

Yet, there's only one A-Rod, who until this weekend was the "clean" alternative to Barry Bonds. Rodriguez will go unpunished by Major League Baseball -- the test took place a year before a meaningful steroids policy was put in effect -- but he'll be forever known as A-Fraud. With that makeover comes a guarantee: A-Rod will drain the life and energy out of a Yankees clubhouse that already lacks managerial leadership.

But here's where the Bombers are truly stuck: they can't void Rodriguez's contract, and they can't trade him, either. Burdened by a US$275 million deal -- plus another $30 million in incentives tied to home run milestones -- no team could possibly afford A-Rod and his emotional baggage, not unless the Yankees are willing to swallow a huge portion of his yearly salary.

That means someone -- Brian Cashman, Joe Girardi or even Derek Jeter -- had better come up with a plan to assimilate A-Rod into the Yankees' universe. But if Joe Torre couldn't create a wide enough berth for his troubled slugger, what chance does Plan B have?

If Rodriguez nose-dives into a summerlong funk, he could conceivably take the Yankees down with him, not to mention Girardi. A-Rod is already the moodiest and most self-absorbed player in the clubhouse -- and that was before he was exposed as a phony.

Don't feel sorry for Rodriguez. Don't waste your time insisting his legal right to anonymity was trampled upon. Yes, someone violated the agreement with the union by tipping off SI, but the impact on the sport is of greater consequence today. Baseball, which so desperately needed to wipe Bonds off the home run map, now realizes its ascending title-holder was clutching the syringe, too.

And to think, A-Rod had the nerve to prattle on about the virtues of good, clean exercise. In 2005, he smugly revealed that he was working out at 7 a.m. every day in the off-season, sweating when other players were taking their kids to school. Turns out, Rodriguez was riding the tidal wave of steroids, cheating his way to the AL's Most Valuable Player award in 2003.

Remember, A-Rod came to New York from a Rangers clubhouse that was rife with confirmed and/or suspected steroid users, including Jose Canseco, Rafael Palmeiro and Ruben Sierra. All along, there've been back-channel doubts about A-Rod's super-human strength; the whispers reached all the way to the highest levels of Bud Selig's administration.

But when it became clear that the Mitchell Report would be based solely on the information given by Kirk Radomski and Brian McNamee, an entire swath of Latin players, including A-Rod, would be spared. Nevertheless, people close to A-Rod were disturbed at his friendship with what one person called "a shady Dominican" entrepreneur, who is believed to have provided steroids to many Spanish-speaking players.

Of course, A-Rod's defenders will point out that he has never failed a test since the sport started aggressively policing steroids in 2004. Furthermore, the slugger passed all the tests administered in 2006 prior to the World Baseball Classic, which vetted players in accordance to Olympic standards.

But who's to say Rodriguez wasn't already using a cutting-edge drug that couldn't be detected by present-day filters? If A-Rod cheated once, how do we know he hasn't cheated 100 times?

The way he reacted to Saturday's bombshell was, by itself, a searing indictment. When confronted by an SI reporter about the alleged juicing, Rodriguez didn't deny it. He merely said, "You'll have to talk to the union."

How odd. If an innocent person was stopped on the street and told they were about to be indicted for murder, the first reaction would never be, "talk to my lawyer" unless they had something to hide. Likewise, a steroid-free ballplayer would never respond, "talk to the union" unless he was already in full legal retreat.

The pity here is that Rodriguez, like Bonds and Roger Clemens, was already on the way to the Hall of Fame before he crossed the threshold to baseball crime. A-Rod was the game's greatest five-tool player, but instead behaved like some Hollywood actress who couldn't resist one more plastic surgery.

He wanted the extra power, the extra burst of speed, the faster recovery times -- the sense of invincibility that steroids temporarily create. A-Rod did this because, incredibly, he didn't believe he was good enough on his own. The man who ditched his wife and children in favour of Madonna revealed yet again how vain and insecure he really is.

While the Yankees are contemplating their way out of this mess, it's A-Rod who needs the exit strategy. His best move would be to confess fully. Somehow, though, it's hard to believe Rodriguez could ever be that contrite.

Instead, he'll stonewall us all, pretending he's too strong to care. What A-Rod will actually be doing, however, has nothing to do with stoicism or strength. He'll just be covering up the big black hole otherwise known as his soul.

-- The Record (Hackensack N.J.)

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition February 8, 2009 C4