Holy. Fucking. Shit.

It seems that ARod is heading back to the Yankees. Check out No Maas' interview with Tyler Kepner on the subject.

So much about this scenario is so implausible, I can't believe it's really happening. Not only does Scott Boras need to allow ARod to venture out into the world on his own, ARod has to come crawling back to the Baby Bosses begging for his job back, he has to accept less money than he would have gotten a few weeks ago, and the Yankees' brass needs to go back on their word about not signing ARod once he opts out.

I am truly of two minds about ARod's return. Obviously, his production would have been impossible to replace, and Miguel Cabrera wasn't walking through that door without losing either Hughes or Chamberlain. However, I really don't fucking like the guy a bit, and getting away from his ongoing soap opera would have been lovely.

Dealing with ARod is a constant struggle for me as a fan, because the rational is constantly colliding with the irrational. My head knows they can't make the playoffs without him, my heart wants to root against him for all eternity.

I wonder how Derek Jeter feels today.

ARod Leaves With His Tail Between His Legs

Dear ARod:

Congratulations. You're now joining the fine, proud company of Ed Whitson, Kevin Brown and Chuck Knoblauch as players who simply couldn't handle New York.

Now matter how much money you make, no matter how many MVPs you win, it will always be part of your legacy: you're a choker who couldn't come through when it counted, and who took the first chance to slink out of town.

Thanks for the first-round losses, champ! I think we'll survive without you.

Kisses,

PF

A Look at the 500 Home Run Club

Now that AlexRod has finally joined the fabled 500 Home Run Club, it's time to examine what that milestone really means in twenty-aught-seven. A lot of writers and analysts have claimed that reaching 500 home runs has become devalued due to the steroids era, and argued that joining the club should no longer guarantee election to the Hall of Fame.

22 players have hit 500 or more home runs, which still seems like a pretty exclusive club. How much impact have PEDs really had on the current members? I realize this is an exercize in guesswork, and I will probably have my Baseball Prospectus membership revoked for even trying this, but let's see if we can figure out what the 500 club would look like in a world without steroids. I'm basing this entirely on conjecture and innuendo, with absolutely no evidence to support my theories, because that's how I do.

14 of the 22 sluggers on the list played their careers entirely in the pre-steroids era. Of course, many of them had other advantages (segregated leagues, small ballparks, batting against 1920s girlymen pitchers, etc.) but steroids supposedly represent the true threat to the game's integrity, so we'll stay focused on that.

Barry Bonds has 755 home runs. He has taken steroids. He would undoubtedly have still reached 500 and beyond even if his head forever remained its natural size. So he's in.

Sammy Sosa has 604 home runs, and because he has been caught cheating and I hate his guts, I'm going to assume he would not have reached 500 homers without the benefit of animal semen injected into his biceps nightly. 105 homers is a small enough total that the strenghtening and recovery-period-shortneing powers of HGH and steroids could account for. Sammy's out.

Ol' Marky Mark McGwire's at 583. Due to his long and varied injury history, I'll again make the argument that he would be under 500 if he had played clean his entire career. Sorry, Charlie, you're outro.

Ken Griffey and Frank Thomas are beyond reproach, without even whispers of their guilt. Same with ARod, no matter what Jose Canseco is getting ready to accuse him of. Eddie Murray is an old man and played most of his career before steroids were prevalent. All in.

Raffy Palmeiro clubbed 569, and tested positive for steroids. His was a strange career path. It's borderline, but he's out.

So, in our imaginary world, we're booting three players from the club, and that's admittedly a stretch. Is three measly hitters really such a big enough difference that the number 500 somehow doesn't mean what it used to mean? I don't think so. Unless a player is dogged by steroid rumors, like McGwire, hitting 500 home runs should still be an automatic ticket to Cooperstown. For now. We'll see what happens when the likes of Jim Thome start getting there.

The bottom line is that ARod just joined a very small, still exclusive list of the greatest power hitters of all time. It's an amazing accomplishment, and amazing becomes ridiculous when you consider his age. Congratulations, ARod, and let's all hope you're still in pinstripes when you hit number 600.

Locking Down ARod

It's being reported today that the Yankees are exploring reaching a new, long-term deal with Alex Rodriguez to prevent him from opting out of his contract after the season.

The first half ARod just put up essentially tied the Yankees hands. They have to either keep him, or get a huge haul of young talent for him in a trade at the deadline. The latter's not going to happen, because the Yankees won't give up on the season and because no team will part with enough for a half-season rent-a-Rod to make a trade worth it. So, the former it is.

Scott Boras is going to be a bitch to deal with, but the Yankees have been able to make it work with him in the past. The key here is whether or not ARod wants to stay. If he does, a deal will happen. If he wants to escape from New York, even a promise from Captain Intangibles to start hosting slumber parties again won't change his mind.

The Unwritten Rules

After all the Blue Jays' whining and moaning about ARod distracting Howie Clark enough to let a pop-up drop untouched, others around baseball are weighing in. Better look out ARod, 95-year-old Omar Vizquel doesn't approve of your actions!

This "incident" has led to some debate around baseball and the media about the unwritten code of the game, and what's considered acceptable as gamesmanship and what crosses the line into the realm of cheating or the dreaded "unprofessional play."

Bud Selig has appointed a council of well-respected players, coaches and former players (all white, don't worry...Maddux and Glavine have key roles) to define the undefinable and finally put into writing the unwritten rules of our beloved national pastime. Here's a brief look at some of the council's findings about what type of plays are permissible.

OK: An infielder fooling a baserunner into believing that a ball has been hit on the ground when in fact it was a fly ball.

Not OK: A baserunner yelling "I got it!" to distract a fielder from catching a pop-up.

OK: A runner on second base trying to steal signs and relay them to the batter.

Not OK: The batter peeking himself to look at the signs.

OK: A good, hard-nosed slide to break up a double-play by a gritty gamer like Craig Biggio or Darin Erstad.

Not OK: A good, hard-nosed slide to break up a double-play by a pretty-boy prima donna like ARod.

OK: The first baseman attempting to distract a runner on first base with some friendly chatter.

Not OK: The first baseman gently caressing the runner's inner thigh while whispering, "My wife likes it with two guys."

OK: Playing "I Walk the Line" on the PA system when a pitcher gets wild.

Not OK: Playing "Kim" by Eminem when Elijah Dukes is at bat.

OK: Throwing up and in when a hitter is standing too close to the plate.

Not OK: Throwing up and in when a hitter is standing too close to the plate...but still in the on-deck circle.

OK: A pitcher who has been removed from the game returning to the clubhouse to shower.

Not OK: Sneaking into the clubhouse early just to beat Miguel Cabrera to the post-game buffet.

OK: The hidden-ball trick.

Not OK: The hole-in-the-bottom-of-the-popcorn trick.

OK: Standing and admiring your long home run if you happen to be an idiot savant.


Not OK: Hitting a home run, then using your bat as an imaginary machine gun to slaughter everyone on the other team.

OK: Treating your teammates and opponents with respect, and playing with integrity and manners.

Not OK: Actually trying to win the fucking game.

Shut the Fuck Up: Toronto Blue Jays

The Yankees got a much-needed, though probably irrelavent, 10-5 win over the Blue Jays last night, in a game marked by a controversial play involving your hero and mine, ARod.

In the 9th inning, with the Yanks ahead 6-5, Jorge Posada hit a pop up to third with two runners on base. As Arod passed Toronto third baseman Howie Clark, he appeared to yell "Ah!" or "Hah!", distracting Clark enough for the ball to drop.

Now Clark and the Jays have their panties in a bunch.

ARod's play was absolutely bush league, but certainly not illegal. The bottom line is that a major league third baseman needs to catch that pop-up no matter what distracts him. The Jays can sit in the dugout and make snide comments and give Arod the stink-eye all they want...dude still needs to catch that ball. Of course, there was much whining and sadness after the game. Uh oh ARod...better watch out...the Jays might send the Mounties after you.

Meanwhile, ARod is becoming an A.J. Pierzynski-style irritant, between plays like this and the infamous ALCS slap, which is a role some might say is not befitting one of the best players in the game. Joe Torre clearly seems weary of defending him, although Torre still has plenty of amends to make for the Sports Illustrated screw-job last September.

I'm torn on this. ARod's plays aren't exactly something to be proud of, but if they help win a game or two...why the fuck not?

One last thing: John Gibbons needs to shuuuuut up with his "Yankees pride" bullshit. Hey Gibby, why don't you worry about salvaging the Blue Jays' pride and stop challenging your own players to fights in the clubhouse? Douche. The more people call ARod out for not being a "true Yankee," the more I want to defend him. And I hate defending Arod.

D-Rays 10, Yankees 8

Two thoughts on last night's loss:

1) In my many years as a baseball fan, I have never had the pleasure of watching a hitter as hot as Alex Rodriguez is right now, particularly for this long a stretch. He's putting together one of the best months in baseball history, and the atmosphere is electric every time he gets as far as the on-deck circle...even on the road. He's single-handedly keeping the Yankees afloat, and I can't help but wonder if he's doing at as a farewell-and-fuck-you to New York fans. He's going to give us that one monster year we've all been craving, and then leave for calmer seas in Anaheim or elsewhere. Still, watching ARod hit this April has been among my best experiences as a baseball fan. So long, ARod, and thanks for all the bombs.

2) The body language on nearly every pitcher on the staff is abominable right now, particularly in the bullpen. Sagging shoulders, confused eyes, sad strolls around the mound. Every pitcher seems to be subconsciously pleading with the dugout to be taken out. I don't know if these guys are overworked or simply bad, or more likely some combination of both. Kei Igawa, Luis Vizcaino and Brian Bruney are the worst offenders.


They look like they know they can't get anyone out, and if they throw enough curveballs low and away, someone will come take them out of their misery. Wang tries to get into the sixth tonight.

So Confused...Head Spinning...

Here is what amazes me the most about today's 8-6 victory over Cleveland: not that Alex Rodriguez came through in the clutch for a game-winning home run, but that I actually expected it to happen.

ARod has been so hot, and carried this team so well in 2007, that the feeling of cold dread that normally overcomes me when he comes to bat in a big spot was completely absent. Instead of wondering how bad the boos would be this time, I actually felt confident.

Nobody can say that these aren't big games, either. Even though it's only April, more than half the lineup has struggled, and the pitching staff has been beset by injuries. If not for ARod, this early stretch could have been disastrous. Instead of keeping their heads above water (and above .500), the Yankees might have dug themselves a hole too deep.

What Happens Now? Where are we Going to?

Yankees 10, Orioles 7. And I'm so, so confused. What am I supposed to feel today? Who am I supposed to hate now? Is there a God? Why did this unholy event happen on the eve of Easter, the holiest of days?

In times like this, I turn to you for guidance. Please, oh Great One, guide me, and tell me where to turn:

And He Wonders Why He's Hated

Oh my God, let's boo this douchebag the fuck out of this town.

Never has anyone in the history of New York more blatantly begged to have batteries thrown at him.