Spin-Rod Does Nothing to Help Cause

I liked the verbal imagery, if not much else. Alex Rodriguez said he and his cousin -- why is the cousin always being thrown under the bus? -- knew they "weren't taking Tic Tacs'' when they were injecting each other with anabolic steroids earlier this decade. And Brian Cashman, A-Rod's beleaguered boss? He knew exactly which nursery-rhyme character to invoke Tuesday under the big circus tent in Tampa.

"If this is Humpty Dumpty,'' said the general manager of the Yankees, "then we've got to put him back together again to get him back on the wall."

Otherwise, I felt I was watching a choreographed and brainwashed puppet, his strings being pulled by a crisis-management firm that didn't allow follow-up questions and, thus, turned Rodriguez's so-called "truth will set you free'' press conference into a controlled farce. When we demanded complete honesty, contrition and sincerity -- the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth -- A-Rod instead gave us a nibble here, a crumb there, and then exited stage right after a mere 32 minutes with many more questions remaining in the audience and throughout a disgusted land.

Yes, he revealed that his cousin -- Vinny, I assume -- introduced him to an over-the-counter substance that he referred to as "boli.'' Purchased in the Dominican Republic, he said, the steroid was injected into Rodriguez's bloodstream twice a month in six-month cycles between 2001 and 2003. But what we needed from there was context, information and depth, allowing us to grasp why the most talented ballplayer of his generation would junk his body with imported poison 36 times over three years -- and why he stopped in 2004, assuming he actually did. Instead, he kept pounding us over the head with the same reasoning he used in his ESPN interview last week, the "young/stupid/naive'' excuse, which doesn't jibe when he had been in the major leagues for seven seasons and was quite sophisticated, stylish and -- key point here -- aspiring. Back in his Texas days, A-Rod would stop writer friends and ask about the magic of playing in New York, wondering with starry eyes whether his profile would be maximized in the media capital. Young, stupid, naive?

Try compulsively ambitious, to the point of becoming a cheater and liar of historic proportion. You'd be a fool if you didn't ask yourself this today: How much of his latest spin show are we supposed to believe?

"I didn't think they were steroids. That's part of being young and stupid,'' Rodriguez said. "It was over-the-counter. It was really amateur hour. We went outside team doctors and team trainers. It was two guys doing a very amateur and immature thing. We probably didn't even take it right. We used to do it about two times a month, and I'm not even sure we did it right to affect us the right way. All these years, I never thought I did anything wrong."



Then why, in a rare follow-up that actually snuck through the checkpoints, was A-Rod so secretive about using the stuff if he never thought he was doing anything wrong?

Five seconds passed. Seven, 10. He looked baffled, a liar caught in his web. "I knew we weren't taking Tic Tacs. I knew that potentially, it could be something that perhaps was wrong,'' Rodriguez finally said. "But I really didn't get into the investigation perhaps like I would have. I wouldn't imagine thinking of doing something like that today, obviously. It's a different world, a different culture. But again, when you're 24 and 25 and you're curious and ignorant, there's a lot of things you don't tell a lot of people, not just that. And you don't want to share everything with the public, and that was one of those things I decided not to share with anyone."

So let me take you through this vicious circle of B.S. A-Rod didn't think he was doing anything wrong, yet he also knew he wasn't taking Tic Tacs. That means he knew he was guilty of doing something wrong, also known as a lie. And while it was well-chronicled from 2001 to 2003 that steroid use was a pox on sports and that too many athletes were doping and cheating, the otherwise worldly Rodriguez apparently wore blinders on days when he and his "cousin'' injected each other, in the same time period when swarms of other ballplayers were shooting up with juice. Please don't insult us, Alex. Just admit you cheated and move on with the rest of your life, a career you say will be committed to clean, honest competition with nine years remaining on your contract.

But he couldn't even do that. "That's not for me to determine,'' Rodriguez said of whether he cheated. "I'm here to say I'm sorry. I'm here to say that in some ways, I wish I went to college and had an opportunity to grow up at my own pace. I guess when you're young and stupid, you're young and stupid. I'm very guilty of both of those.''

Oh, really? I had no idea he thinks he was young and stupid. And never mind the muscle bulk that steroids provided to an athlete who was lean, even skinny, when he played in Seattle during the '90s. In those years, he did admit to often using a supplement called Ripped Fuel, since banned by Major League Baseball. It seems A-Rod's desire all along was an energy boost, and to hear him explain, he never had second thoughts because baseball yielded an anything-goes drug culture at the time. Referring to his strange unnamed cousin, Rodriguez said, "It was his understanding it would give me a dramatic energy boost and was otherwise harmless.'' What a shame that A-Rod's conscience wasn't as finely tuned as his inner drive to be the best baseball player ever.

Such a distinction no longer is possible for Rodriguez, of course. With his confession comes a permanent stain on his body of work, and he'll forever be known as the first Hall of Fame-caliber player to admit steroids use while still active. If we can believe he'll stay clean the next nine seasons, he still has a chance to salvage his future and at least make a case that he belongs in Cooperstown, though never on the first few ballots. By going public with a few details, A-Rod deserves some credit for turning himself in when Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens and Mark McGwire have foolishly refused. He is a better man for admitting steroid use when the three cowards have tried to wiggle away, bringing nothing but misery and shame to their lives.

But now that he has come clean, why not come clean all the way and answer every question? Someone asked if his record will be tainted if he winds up with more career home runs than anyone else. Fair query? Not in A-Rod's world. "Look, I'm trying to get by today,'' he said. "It has been a very difficult several weeks. It has been very painful for me and my family. I'm here to take my medicine. As far as the past, it's hard for me to get into that timeframe.''

Eventually, if he wants America to believe he's credible, he'll have to find the courage to get into that time machine. Sitting for 32 minutes of prepackaged pap, after an ESPN interview with few follow-up questions last week, isn't going to get it done for the masses. Nor will the emotions he spilled upon seeing his Yankees teammates at the gathering, including former ego rival Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera, Jorge Posada and fellow steroids confessor Andy Pettitte in the front row. It may have been A-Rod's most truthful moment -- moving his head back and forth, taking a gulp of water and blinking nervously before managing a "Thank you'' after a 37-second pause. But in those situations, words speak louder than watery eyes.

"Like everyone else, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life,'' he said. "The only way I know how to handle it is to move forward.''

But his forward progress is slow after his Tuesday disappointment. Too many respected baseball people are weighing in against him, including 46-year-old pitcher Jamie Moyer, who played with Rodriguez in Seattle and says he has no chance of reaching Cooperstown. "I don't see how," Moyer said. "Who in their right mind would vote for anyone who got caught taking that stuff? It's about respecting the game. I'd be disappointed in anybody in that situation. When people have had an impact on your life, you want to feel for them. But how can I feel for him? To me, if you're doing it, you know it's illegal. I commend him for coming out and saying it, but why didn't he say it seven years ago?"



Alex? Would you ever have confessed if Sports Illustrated hadn't caught you? "I haven't thought about that much,'' Rodriguez said.

Oops, another wasted opportunity. "This changes everything - the way people look at him, the way people act toward him,'' said Moyer, who is back with the World Series champion Philadelphia Phillies. "It's a shame. What does he have to play for now? Who's going to believe him? What credibility does he have now?''

Then there's Houston pitcher Roy Oswalt, who wants Rodriguez's statistics erased from the books. "A-Rod's numbers shouldn't count for anything," Oswalt told MLB.com. "I feel like he cheated me out of the game. It does bother me, especially for the guys that went out there and did it on talent. We're always going to have a cloud on us, and that's not fair at all.

"The ones that have come out and admitted it, and are proven guilty, (their numbers) should not count. This is my ninth year, and I've done nothing to enhance my performance other than work my butt off to get guys out. These guys (who took steroids) have all the talent in the world, All-Star talent. And they put times-two on it. I'm going out there with the ability God gave me. They have that ability, too, and they're putting something on top of it."

Unaware of the comments, A-Rod said he understood why fellow players are angry. But that answer, too, seemed staged. He never did address why he accused Sports Illustrated's Selena Roberts of ambush tactics in trying to interview him recently, which could prompt the magazine to sue him. As he got up and fled the circus tent, the cheater forever known as A-Fraud hoped his nightmare was over.

"One thing I will say,'' he pleaded almost helplessly, "is that after today, I hope to focus on baseball.''

There is no chance of that.