I remember a lot of things about August 14, 2010 … few of
them good.
I wanted to see a couple of baseball legends play before the
end of their careers and I also wanted to check another baseball stadium off of
my list. So the plans were made and the tickets were purchased and I was going
to see the New York Yankees visit the Kansas City Royals at Kauffman Stadium in
Kansas City.
I wanted to see Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera play. Alex
Rodriguez was going to be there too, but I couldn’t have cared less. By the
late summer of 2010 the whole world already knew that Alex Rodriguez was a
cheater. We may have bought the inflated numbers and inflated body size before,
but just a year earlier Rodriguez had admitted to using steroids while playing
with the Texas Rangers in the early part of the ‘00s. Barry Bonds had retired a
few years before, so Rodriguez was my most hated player in the game.
Insomnia has always been a bitch for me and during the
summer months when I was a college student it was at its worst. The day before
we (my girlfriend, my family and me) where set to drive up to Kansas City from
Northern Arkansas for the afternoon game I had failed to get any sleep
whatsoever. You’d think a six hour drive to the ballpark the morning of the
game would be the perfect opportunity to catch ups on some Z’s, but that didn’t
happen either. By first pitch I was going to be awake for more than 24 hours
without sleep.
We know heat and humidity in Arkansas, but I swear that
August afternoon in Kansas City was one of the single hottest days I’ve ever
experienced in my life. Walking around a new ballpark that you’ve never been to
can be one of the best aspects of attending a Major League Baseball game, but I
didn’t want to do a whole lot of walking around in that summer heat. Kauffman
Stadium is most known for its giant ass water fountain in right field, but damn
if they won’t let spectators play around in it. They could seriously charge
admission to it on days like this. Our seats were in right field just in front
of this fountain. So not only is it amazingly hot outside, but I’m being
taunted by a 322 foot fountain, which happens to be the largest privately
funded fountain in the entire damn world. The only real safety from the heat
that day was the indoor, air conditioned Kansas City Royals Hall of Fame, which
I can’t remember how much it cost to enter, but it was definitely overpriced.
The Royals franchise, at this point, was 41 years old and they had managed only
one hall of fame player in that entire time – George Brett – so needless to say
the team’s hall of fame wasn’t all that thrilling. Being out of the heat for a
half an hour or so sure as hell was.
It was getting closer to game time so we made our way back to our seats where things just kept getting worse. I’ve got bad luck when attending sporting events, concerts, etc. and I always seem to find the seats that are surrounded by complete jackasses. This hot, tiresome August day in Kansas City we were seated in a row directly in front of four people that were the baseball fans from Hell – actually they might not have even been baseball fans, because they talked about everything in the world but baseball (and very loudly I might add) during the entire game. There is a special place in Hell, which is apparently Kansas City on a hot August afternoon, waiting for those two guys and their significant others … right alongside Alex Rodriguez, of course.
It was getting closer to game time so we made our way back to our seats where things just kept getting worse. I’ve got bad luck when attending sporting events, concerts, etc. and I always seem to find the seats that are surrounded by complete jackasses. This hot, tiresome August day in Kansas City we were seated in a row directly in front of four people that were the baseball fans from Hell – actually they might not have even been baseball fans, because they talked about everything in the world but baseball (and very loudly I might add) during the entire game. There is a special place in Hell, which is apparently Kansas City on a hot August afternoon, waiting for those two guys and their significant others … right alongside Alex Rodriguez, of course.
The lack of sleep, unbelievable heat and row of pricks
behind us made for a somewhat miserable experience at Kauffman Stadium, but the
game wasn’t really all that bad. It wasn’t all that bad, because I really didn’t
have a rooting interest. I’m an Atlanta Braves fan at a Yankees-Royals game, so
really what does it matter who wins? I rooted for the Royals, though, because
who really roots for the Yankees?
Things got off to a slow start in the game as Yankees starting
pitcher Phil Hughes and Royals starting pitcher Sean O’Sullivan had a 1-1
pitcher’s duel going through the first five innings. The fireworks would start
in the sixth.
In the sixth inning Alex Rodriguez blasted a ball 423 feet right over our heads to give the Yankees a lead.
In the sixth inning Alex Rodriguez blasted a ball 423 feet right over our heads to give the Yankees a lead.
Who cares?
O’Sullivan would be knocked from the game just minutes later
after Yankees catcher Jorge Posada and Yankees center fielder Curtis Granderson
connected on back-to-back homers. The Royals would score two runs in the sixth
themselves to keep things close. It wouldn’t stay that way for long.
The next inning Rodriguez stepped back up to the plate, this
time off of Royals reliever Kanekoa
Texeira. The result would be the same as the previous inning, except longer.
Rodriguez took Texeira 439 feet to right field, again right over our heads.
I still didn’t
give a damn.
He wasn’t
finished though. In the ninth inning Rodriguez put the finishing touches on an
8-3 Yankees win with his third dinger of the day – this one the longest at a
whopping 449 feet off of Royals reliever Greg Holland. I believe the ball
reached the giant fountain that I didn’t have the pleasure of bathing in
earlier in the day.
It was a
three homer day for Rodriguez with each homer being longer and more impressive
than the last. However, I remained unimpressed. Alex Rodriguez could’ve hit a
Major League Baseball record-tying fourth or even record-breaking fifth home
run that day and I still would’ve been unimpressed. Nothing this tainted
slugger could’ve done would have impressed or even interested me.
I got to see
Derek Jeter play the field and get what would end up being one of his 3000-plus
career base hits. That was impressive to me. Because of Rodriguez’s bombs I
didn’t get the pleasure of seeing the greatest closer to ever live Mariano
Rivera pitch because it wasn’t a save situation, but oh well, those are the
breaks of the game and I knew it would be a possibility going in.
I had never
been to a sporting event previously where I was glad the game had ended, and I
haven’t been to one where I felt that way since … but the final out came as a
relief that day. I could fall asleep when I wanted, I could bask in indoor air
conditioning and the row of pricks was gone and thankfully never to be seen
from again.
Some would
think that I’m making light of a terrific athletic performance – quite possibly
the single greatest game I’ve ever witnessed in person and may ever witness in
person. A three-homer game from a three-time Most Valuable Player and 14-time
All Star should be amazing.
It wasn’t.
It wasn’t
because I knew better. I knew, even three years ago, that Rodriguez’s
achievements didn’t mean a damn thing because he had made a decision to cheat.
I couldn’t cheer for that. I couldn’t respect that. I have no clue if Rodriguez
was juicing at that time. He claimed to only do it in Texas from 2001-2003. He
never failed a test after Major League Baseball instituted testing in 2006 and
still hasn’t to this day. But, there’s a possibility that those homers were
tainted, and even if they weren’t they still didn’t mean shit coming from a
player who was.
It’s August
again, but its three years later. Yesterday Major League Baseball suspended
Alex Rodriguez for 211 games, the rest of the 2013 season and the entirety of
the 2014 season because of violating baseball’s performance enhancing drugs
policy and for actions detrimental to the game of baseball under the collective
bargaining agreement for his part in the Biogenesis clinic scandal. The
suspension uniquely came down on what was Rodriguez’s 2013 season debut after
rehabbing from multiple injuries. Rodriguez, ever the joke, announced that he
would appeal the suspension. He can play until the appeal is heard. Rodriguez seems
to believe he’s honest now. Even though his name was alongside of 13 other
players who accepted suspensions for the same thing and after he tried to
cover-up his involvement in the Biogenesis clinic by purchasing documents from
the clinic. It is this attempted cover-up that truly has gotten Rodriguez in
deeper trouble than the rest of the players who have all only been suspended
for the remainder of the season.
Everything he’s
gotten is 100 percent deserved. If he never plays another game of baseball
after his appeal is heard the game will be much better off.
If I have
children one day I will be able to recount how I saw legends and surefire
future hall of famers like Derek Jeter, Chipper Jones and Albert Pujols play
the great game of baseball at an incredibly high level. I’ll get to show them
the stats and video footage of these players and tell them just how special
they were and just what kind of role models they were. If this day comes I hope
my children look up to these guys in the same way that I do with legends I
never got to see like Hank Aaron, Willie Mays and Ted Williams.
I then will
sit them down and tell them about the day I saw Alex Rodriguez hit three home
runs and how that feat meant absolutely nothing to me because of all the harm
Rodriguez and others of his ilk did to the game I love. They should and will
learn that fantastic feats mean nothing when there isn’t honesty and morals
behind them.
These future
kids of mine are going to know the legacy of the Jeters, Joneses and Pujolses.
They are just as importantly going to know the embarrassment of the A-Frauds. As
much as I’d like to forget that clowns like Rodriguez exist it’s important to
remember them and pass down their tainted tales this way the future lover’s of
the greatest game ever played won’t mistake fake for fame when they look into
the record book and see the bloated numbers of these bloated buffoons.
