Open Letter to A-Rod: Believe it or not, you've been granted a reprieve

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n his late years, Shoeless Joe Jackson – he, of the lifetime ban – ran a liquor store in Greenville, South Carolina. One day, Ty Cobb and the sportswriter, Grantland Rice, came in to buy life-sustaining booze. Jackson pretended not to recognize them. Cobb grew exasperated. “Don’t you know me, Joe?” he said. “Sure, I know you, Ty,” Jackson replied. “But I wasn’t sure you wanted to know me. A lot of them don’t.”

It’s been 95 years since Shoeless Joe was banned by the Bud Selig of his generation. The world still remembers Jackson, still debates him, still views him as one of the great hitters of history. He will be known long after other stars of his time are forgotten. It’s the Bill Buckner Effect. He will take on a larger than life perspective, because people have an innate appreciation for greatness and a fascination with tragedy. It is part of human nature.

Over the next year, in the darkest times, you must remember this.

Someday, the world will track through its instinctive anger upon hearing the name Alex Rodriguez. Someday, writers and pundits will compare your transgressions to a generation of far worse villains, because evil seems to evolve more quickly within our species than goodness. Eventually, they’ll say you weren’t so bad. But it will take time. Maybe a lot of it.

Listen: Yesterday, you screwed up. You pushed a nuke button and began suing MLB and the player’s union. My friend, that is a loser’s strategy - unless you are lawyer. It’s how to spend $10 million, without achieving anything - unless you are a lawyer. Your name will get dragged through the mud, and the lawyers will become famous and rich, and sir, you should rethink that strategy soon. The courts will not save you. They will simply take your money.

Many people, like you, believe the recent arbiter’s ruling was a shame. But one thing Frederic Horowitz did do was to cut your suspension from 1.5 years to one. That’s not minor. That’s the difference between a lifetime ban and a year off.

Listen: You have been given a year to redeem your name.  

This is no time to go Robert Redford and sail around the world, thinking if you die, everybody will feel bad. This is no time to run a liquor store and pretend you don’t recognize people. This is a year to get out and make the world a better place. I’m not talking about “personal appearances.” Courtney Love makes “personal appearances.” Get out and work. Get out and build Habitat for Humanity homes. Get out and march for crops, or causes. Get out and wield hammers and deliver foodstuffs, and actually do things. Don’t disappear into a weight room. Don’t hide with the aerobics instructors and the hangers-on. Get out and be with real people.

Bud Selig sold cars. Know what? He’ll always been a car salesman. Go out be Alex Rodriguez, the person, not the player. You cannot win your case in the courts. There will be no justice there, just a bunch of suits who nod and take your money. Plead your case to the people, to the fans, to America. That is the only court that matters.

If you get involved with a righteous cause, the next year will disappear in what seems like a minute. It will soon be the winter of 2015, and nobody will give you a chance at returning to baseball. And that’s when you get a shot at proving them wrong. That’s when you can show the world who Alex Rodriguez is.

Because, frankly, we still don’t know.

You’ve been granted a final act. Not many people get one. You have one year. Will you sit in your compound, screw the latest stripper and direct your legal war? Or will you get out and work with people – REALLY work with people, not just do p.r. – and become the person you’ve never been able to be. It's time to tell the truth - about everything.

The craziest part of your defense was that crowd of nutjobs who showed up on the streets of New York to support you. Everybody assumed they were paid. Well, maybe it doesn’t matter. Wherever you go, there will be a crowd of nutjobs. (Some will be there to heckle.) You have a podium. You have a chance to tell about your life, and maybe to do some good.

Sir, you are not “retired.” You are “banned,” and banned by a gang of jokers who will carry a lot of historical baggage. Everything they did will come out. Everything you did will come out. You don’t need lawyers. You need friends. Do something with your year. Do something with this ban. You will be remembered for 100 years, like Shoeless Joe.

Do something. Or else buy a liquor store and instead of selling booze, just drink it up yourself.  Because it’ll be you in the mirror that you pretend not to recognize.