Dear Alex Rodriguez,
I don’t even know where to begin. How do you condense your 12 years in the Bronx into one blog post? I guess I’ll start with the ending.
I think Brett Gardner hit the nail on the head the other day. He said “I think growing up, you always want to play in the big leagues, but the longer you play and the longer career you have, I think the ultimate way to go out is to go out on your own terms, and Tex is getting an opportunity to do that, and it’s sad to see that Alex isn’t.”
Your 22-year career has been reduced to a five day, awkward sendoff. I’d like to think that a person with your resume deserves better than being released with a month-and-a-half left to go in a lost season, but I guess it doesn’t always work out that way. The Yankees are all-in on the youth movement and your DH role must be holding them back.
On Friday after your final game, you’re packing your bags and going home while your team finishes out the schedule without you. That’s sadder to me than remaining on the bench for the rest of the year.
Over these 12 years, I’ve always made sure to stop what I was doing to watch every single at-bat of yours. You were a once in a generation-type talent, and I wanted to make sure I saw it as much as possible. I appreciated getting the chance to watch you play everyday.
You had your ups and down. People unfairly blamed you for those early postseason exits, mostly because of your name and your contract, but you never shied away from the media or made excuses. You owned up to how you played, and even admitted that if you were a fan you’d boo yourself. I think this is an aspect of your time in New York that people forget about it. It should be respected.
As we watch the farewell tour that’s taking place in Boston this year, I’m reminded of the double standard associated with you and David Ortiz. I root for you because his transgressions get swept under the rug like they never happened. I know you brought a lot of it onto yourself, but the hypocrisy is eye-opening. You were singled out in 2003 when your name was leaked from that confidential list, and you’ve paid the unfair price ever since.
I wanted to thank you for 2009. Watching you that postseason, I could feel it all coming together. It was amazing to watch the mental and physical sides of your game finally meet on the biggest stage. Without you, the Yankees don’t even make it to the World Series. Without you, they’d probably be looking at a 16-year championship drought. I’ll never forget where I was that October as I watched you play. After years of postseason disappointments, I could tell how genuinely happy you were, and that made me happy.
I know you’ve made mistakes, and you’ve acknowledged you’ve messed up. To see you on the mountaintop, only to fall all the way down and get back up to where you had that great season last year was awesome to see. I hope you have four home runs left in you. I was there when you hit your 500th, and I’d like to be there on Friday to see number 700. If these last 12 years are any indication, your final days as a Yankee should hold some excitement and drama.
I have no doubt that you’ll be a great mentor to the younger Yankees. You’re a natural coach – a person who lives, eats, sleeps and breathes baseball. I’m already looking forward to seeing you in pinstripes in spring training next season.
Sincerely,
Rich Kaufman
