Talkin' With Tewks: An Open Letter to A-Rod

My Dearest Alex,

God knows I have always been one of your biggest supporters. My first column compared you and that overrated boob Derek Jeter and the conclusion was obvious: you are by far the superior baseball player and one of the preeminent talents the game has ever seen.

Unfortunately, your off field antics are really beginning to test my patience as a fan; it’s getting harder and harder (that’s what she said) to defend you against people who call you a socially inept jackass (basically you’re MLB’s version of Kobe Bryant sans the world championships and allegations of rape).

You’ve always been something of an oddball; however, I always attributed your weirdness to your greatness as a ball player. All geniuses have unusual quirks: Mozart used to dress up in his mother’s clothes and turn tricks down by the docks (it’s true, check Wikipedia).

Instead of embracing your idiosyncrasies like Manny Ramirez, (who I’m confident has some form of Asperger’s Syndrome), you’ve tried to hide it behind a sickening “Eddie Haskell” like media persona that reeks of insincerity.

In your attempt to be more media accessible and honest, you’ve made numerous bone-headed decisions that just spit in the face of common sense. Let’s take a look at a few:

February 20 2007 – In discussing your fractured relationship with Jeter, you made the following comment: “You go from sleeping over at somebody's house five days a week, and now you don't sleep over." Let’s ignore the fact that two grown men were having sleepovers past the age of seven and also ignore the homosexual undertones (although I’m sure you and Derek gave new meaning to the phrase “he went deep into the hole and made the play”).

Why are you TELLING people about this? Do you think there is any possible way that comment makes you sound good? No one gives a shit and, if they do, it’s only so they have something else to make fun of you for because they are jealous of your prodigious talent.

May 30 2007 – You were photographed with a buxom blond entering a strip club in Toronto. Now I’m not going to get on my moral high horse (mainly because I don’t have one) and deride you for marital infidelity. You’re a professional athlete; not only is cheating on your spouse allowed, it’s encouraged.

Having a different female associate in every city is one of the perks of being a ballplayer, but be DISCREET about it. Have her meet you at the hotel or go to her place. Don’t spend time with her in public when there’s a chance you can be photographed. I mean this is basic stuff.

July 1 2008 – The Home Run Derby is being held in Yankee Stadium, your home park, the most famous stadium in North America, for the last time ever and you decide to forgo the festivities because you fear it will ruin your swing for the rest of the season. Again, WHY say this?

Make some bullshit injury excuse like you pulled a hammy or something. I know the derby can be detrimental to your hitting mechanics but the general populace has no idea what it takes to swing a bat at a high level. You are going to be the home run king for chrissakes; if you don’t want to lie, just make a token appearance, don’t change your swing and lose in the first round. You should be in the contest purely based on principal.

July 1 2008 (cont'd) - Now it comes out that you’re banging Madonna. Really? This is the best high profile hookup you could get to represent the dissolution of your marriage? I’d be mildly impressed if it was 1988, but at this point, having sex with Madonna would be like trying to penetrate a parachute.

What about the hot chick from Transformers? Or Carrie Underwood? Hell, I’d take one of the members of Girlicious before I would sleep with Madge.

Now you’re going to have a very messy, public divorce and the Yankees are probably going to miss the playoffs for the first time this century. The worst part of this is knowing that your soon to be ex-wife Cynthia is making sweet, sweet love to Lenny Kravitz. She’s going to get a strain of gonorrhea not yet seen by the medical community.

Here’s my advice: go see Hancock this weekend, find out how to resurrect your image (a tip: just shut your mouth and play ball) and please stay away from Madonna before she converts you to Kabbalah or whatever pseudo religion she studies this week.

Love,
Tewks

Tewks is a frequent contributor to Gretzpo’s Sports Blog.