Yesterday, the Yankees announced that ex-team pariah Alex Rodriguez will return to Tampa this spring as a special guest instructor/greeter/concierge/hanger-on/tag-along/sidekick/Valet De Chambre - a good will ambassador from the gluten-free celebrity world of Lamborghinis and self-commissioned centaur-portraits. As a form of collateral damage, Jennifer Lopez - the Beyonce of the 1990s - likely will turn up in the nearby vicinity, unleashing floodgates of fame upon the newly anointed, click-generating gods of New York, Giancarlo Stanton and Aaron Judge.
The two Yankees should look closely at A-Rod, J-Lo, their entourages and the assembled paparazzi they attract, because their lives as athletes are about to seriously change. Celebrity in New York City is like nothing else in this world. Stanton and Judge will enter the 2018 season as the reincarnation of Mantle and Maris, and their every move will be debated on blogs and newspaper pages that have nothing to do with box scores. If they hit well, they will ascend to a pantheon of single-name fame - LeBron, Michael, Mickey - that few athletes ever attain. If they hit poorly, they will be mocked to the point of physical harassment. It will take a toll. The craziness could include other rising Yankees, from Gary Sanchez to Luis Severino, but the twin towers are surely going to attract their share of attention.
Who better than A-Rod to explain the new rules about pissing in back alleys or mouthing off to Uber drivers? Over the last 20 years, Rodriguez has become walking Klieg light. And let's give him credit: The guy is a survivor.
Not long ago, he was suing the Yankees in a bitter dispute over steroids and back payments, leaking personal emails and coaxing people to carry signs claiming Randy Levine is the devil. If anybody predicted he would ever again be welcome in Hal Steinbrenner's palace, they would have been laughed out of the Yankiverse. Yet here he is. Moreover, it's not at all crazy to think that Rodriguez might someday manage this team. At 42, he's two years younger than Aaron Boone, and he'll spend the season at ESPN, where Boone padded his own resume for the job.
Bench coaches and computer wonks can write the lineups. In today's vertical-media market era, managers increasingly function as spokesmen, the star of 30-minute post-game shows that sell massive volumes of beer and stiffy pills. Last year, we saw the grind in Joe Jacoby's - (wait, was that his name? Jeez, I forget) - face after brutal losses. That will be one of Boone's most critical jobs, facing the cameras after Aroldis and Dellin blow a whopper. Someday, it might be A-Rod's.
But now and then, Prince Hal Steinbrenner does something that makes us realize that, yep, he carries his father's DNA, after all. One thing Old George did regularly - spectacularly - was forgive and forget. He hired and fired Billy Martin with regularity. He brought back David Wells and a bunch of players, even after they publicly blasted the Yankees. He never held a grudge - except for whatever team was playing the Yankees at the time.
Hal has to become the guy who foams over Bobby Meachem or the Fat Pussy Toad, but bringing back A-Rod is sign that he's getting there. And maybe next year, once this luxury tax threshold business is done, we can see him really act out his father's fantasies - perhaps by spending his money on some free agents. Some smart signings and a solid farm system would do his old man proud, and I wouldn't want to be the Tampa Rays.
Monday, February 26, 2018
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10 comments:
Did you mean to say
. . . the lords "ought" to be worried?
. . . that Randy Levine is NOT the Devil?
. . . there's something wrong with pissing in back alleys?
Thanks for proofing me.
(First version said the lords "out to be worried."
And there is nothing wrong with you and me pissing in back alleys. It's our sacred birthright.
Is the last line missing a word or something, or is it the bronchitis continuing to play with my head?
Oh what I wouldn't give for a full night's sleep. Maybe I should try the Calgon Bath Oil Beads. The Old Overholt does nothing. NyQuil does nothing. Alka Seltzer Cold and Flue does nothing. Nothing does anything.
Excuse me, my head just floated out of the room, I have to give chase.
Okay, I'm back from Boston. And in case you haven't been following the news from Beantown, everyone there is swooning over the fact that the Sox won't reveal whether or not J.D. Martinez has passed his physical.
MORE than coincidence???
Let me just say two words:
Nancy. Kerrigan.
Let me say two more:
Extendable. Baton.
I admit to nothing, save the fact that I consulted a certain Mr. Jeff Stone, special operations consultant, about the best way to get an edge in a tough competition.
So, while I was gone, the Yanks put up two over the weekend to none for soccer. But the most popular game in the world rebounded today, with a piece on Man U., while the Times did not deign to cover spring training, save for a wire service report on A-Rod.
That puts the total count, by my reckoning, at Soccer 27, Yanks 14 on the year...BUT, the Yankees eking out a thin lead in February, 13-12.
Meanwhile, of course, the rest of the NYC media is obsessed with the saga of Dominic Smith, New York's own Solomon Gundy:
Dominic Smith
Late on Friday
Injured on Saturday
Gone on Monday?
And Jay Bruch is suffering from plantar fasciitis. That was actually the original name of Franco's party in Spain.
Thank you folks, thank you! Don't forget to tip your waitresses in cash, so management can't steal their money under our new tax system!
Don't forget; one of the USA's top young players ( the guy from Stanford- Morris Jordan) tore his ACL yesterday, and will miss the entire minor league season in America.
That made no front or back page?
Jennifer Lopez - the Beyonce of the 1990s...
Howard Stern, love him or hate him, is a funny guy.
Back in the day, he would parodize the way snooty people often refer to someone as being 1) from a "certain" family, and 2) from a "certain" community. E.g., "Edith Bouvier, of the Newport Bouvier's...
Whenever he referenced, J-Lo, he would call her "Jennifer Lopez, of the Bronx Lopez's...
I don't see her name without thinking of it. It's hell being easily amused, I tell ya.
Hey Hoss, send me an email at hseely@twcny.rr.com, when you get the chance.
It is early in the spring and I know you can’t judge a pitcher on one outing. However , yesterday was the first time I saw Sheffield pitch. Bottom line... he didn’t look ready for prime time. He seems to have good raw talent, but in need of more time to develop.
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