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March 28, 2008

Columnists opine on baseball's opening day, Jose Canseco and A-Rod

KEVIN SHERRINGTON, The Dallas Morning News, on BASEBALL RENEWAL:
Hard as it may be to believe, I have it on good authority that baseball season already has begun in Japan. Not Japanese baseball, which already was in session. The American version. The one with all the best Japanese players.

Conclusion: Bud Selig continues his quest to find a country where the term "performance enhancing drugs" doesn't translate.

Oakland and Boston apparently played two games in Tokyo to mixed reviews. By all accounts, the opener was gangbusters. A Boston rookie, Brandon Moss, hit a game-tying home run off Huston Street in the ninth, forcing extra innings and sending the locals into convulsions of sushi-infused euphoria.

A Japanese baseball culture primer: Extra innings are a rare delicacy in Japan, where games are called after 12 innings, and not for a lack of relievers, either. They simply believe it's all the baseball anyone should have to endure in one sitting. This is, of course, a departure from American baseball, where everyone goes home after last call.

Anyway, the teams split and will resume the series next week on American soil, unless Bud gets a better offer from another country.

On a personal note, the start of baseball season has always sparked something hopeful that even the Rangers couldn't beat out of me.

Maybe it's just the promise of spring. A sense of renewal. The affirmation of life.

But I have to tell you, confirmation that baseball snuck in a couple of games a week ahead of time - at 3 in the morning Oakland time, at that - throws a wet blanket over my reawakening.
Never mind that this makes three times in eight years that Japan has hosted our opener. In case you didn't notice, baseball had a bad winter, and spring hasn't been so hot, either.

Coming next week is another Jose Canseco tell-all. In his sequel, he reportedly reveals that he introduced a steroids dealer to Alex Rodriguez, who repaid the favor by hitting on Canseco's wife.

Frankly, I gave Canseco the benefit of the doubt three years ago with his first book. Everyone laughed off his numbers then. At least he raised the dialogue about baseball's not-so-secret problem.

Still, enough is enough. If he had something on A-Rod besides his wife's perfume, he would have told us the first time.

Here's how you know the evidence is thin: Don Yaeger turned down an offer to co-author the book, calling the goods shaky. This is the same Don Yaeger who took the word of a couple of strippers in the case against Mike Price.

Now I know what you're thinking: I'd take the word of a stripper over Canseco, too.

How much bad news can you handle going into a season anyway? Let's count the ways:
Roger Clemens' congressional testimony became ripe political fodder when a top Republican released a report Tuesday blasting the Democratic majority's conclusion. The president of the Baseball Hall of Fame was forced to resign Tuesday for failing to "exercise proper fiduciary responsibility."

Edinson Volquez has a 2.79 ERA this spring and is the talk of the Reds' camp.

The Rangers renew their annual search for a rotation. Prediction: The FBI will find Jimmy Hoffa first.

If you think I'm not taking these sordid stories well, consider the case of Tim Kurkjian.

Twice in the last year I've heard the former Dallas Morning News staffer spin the funny tales from his book, Is This a Great Game, or What?

Both times he was beaten down afterward with questions about steroids and cheating.
If you've never met Kurkjian or caught his work on ESPN, seeing him grilled in person is like watching an angry mob string up one of Santa's elves.

I don't blame Bud Selig for all of these problems. A lot of people are responsible for baseball's malaise.

But it's probably not too much to ask that we hold on to traditions like opening day and quit selling out in the interests of international marketing. From what I can tell, the best to come out of the latest venture was a line from the Boston Globe's Dan Shaughnessy, who wrote that Brandon Moss' homer kept the Sox from being "Sadaharu Oh-for-Japan."

And the young hero? Moss struck out three times in Game 2 and lost his spot on the club. Here's hoping they explained he still had a seat on the plane.

WALLACE MATTHEWS, Newsday, on JOSE CANSECO:
In his first literary endeavor, the No. 1 bestseller "Juiced," Jose Canseco was able to accomplish something he never would have been capable of in his chosen field. As a ballplayer, Canseco averaged 114 strikeouts a season but as a first-time author, he took five big swings and connected on four of them.

That's a pretty good rate of success in any field. It is also the only reason anyone is paying the slightest bit of attention to his follow-up effort, the title of which will not be repeated here for fear, however remote, that it might actually help him sell a copy or two.

It is bad enough that a man who in his life has probably never read anything that didn't have a centerfold can somehow have "written" a book that lived for eight solid weeks on The New York Times bestseller list.

That one, at least, had names - Mark McGwire, Jason Giambi, Rafael Palmeiro, Juan Gonzalez and Pudge Rodriguez, to name the biggest - and a semblance of truth, since four of them, minus Pudge, either admitted to, were caught in the act of, or ran away from the accusations Canseco pinned on them.

This one has names, too, but little else. The sequel is never as good as the original, but this is so bad it's ridiculous. Jose Canseco says he introduced Alex Rodriguez to "a known supplier of steroids" - italics by the author - and that means, of course, that Canseco has the goods on A-Rod. Which means, of course, that you should buy this book (italics by the columnist).

Not.

No wonder Don Yaeger, Canseco's collaborator on "Juiced," ran away from the sequel the way McGwire ran away from the original. No wonder they had to resort to using the guy who ghostwrote O.J.'s "fictional" confession to the murder of his ex-wife. No wonder no legitimate publishing house would touch this mess with one of Canseco's alcohol swabs.

To claim that because a ballplayer once met a steroids dealer - and in the current environment, I defy you to show me one who hasn't - proves that said athlete is, like Canseco, a steroid abuser, a felon and a cheat, is ludicrous and probably libelous. For instance, at a boxing match some years ago, a promoter introduced me to a well-known, now deceased, Queens-based mob boss. Does that make me a capo?

What it does, is put A-Rod's name in play, the same way he put McGwire's and Giambi's and Palmeiro's and the rest of them. Canseco may be the boy who cried wolf but last time around, there really was a wolf at the door. That's why, as slimy as this messenger is, we have no choice but to take a look at the message. And considering all we have learned during the past three years from "Game of Shadows," a legitimate book by legitimate authors, the Mitchell Report, the Congressional hearings and the testimony of Brian McNamee and Kirk Radomski, one would have to be naive or foolish to swear that anyone in professional sports is absolutely clean.

This is less the fault of Canseco than of Bud Selig and Donald Fehr, who in their greed and amorality encouraged and abetted the flourishing of the steroid culture, compromised their game's integrity, tarnished the legacies of its greatest retired stars and cast suspicion on each and every one of their current stars. Perhaps worst of all, they created the monstrous figure of Jose Canseco, Best-Selling Author.

Without the help of Selig and Fehr, there is no "Juiced". And without "Juiced," there is no follow-up, a tirade motivated not by altruism or even greed so much as Canseco's hatred for Rodriguez, whom he alleges lusted after his second wife, Jessica - a woman, incidentally, Canseco was later arrested for smacking around and subsequently divorced.

No matter. At the time, the two were lovey-dovey, fresh off their romantic meeting at Hooters - no joke! - and Canseco's wound is still so raw he admits in the book that he "hates - - guts." In fact, he repeats the sentiment, in various forms, no less than six times in 10 pages.

So much for being a whistle-blower. So much for wanting to do the right thing. So much for not having an agenda or a vendetta. So much for the offering your reading public the plain, unvarnished, unadulterated truth.

Sadly, it may turn out that someday, A-Rod will wind up on the Shame Brigade with so many others, especially since baseball continues to drag its feet on HGH testing. Right now, the only consequence for a ballplayer using HGH is that he might wind up in Jose Canseco's next book.
If there is any justice in the world, the title of that book will be "Incarcerated: My View From the Lower Bunk." At the very least, Jose Canseco is guilty of criminal impersonation of a writer.

BOB KLAPISCH, The Record (Hackensack N.J.), on ALEX RODRIGUEZ:

To those who thought the final 10 years of Alex Rodriguez's career would be spent in a quiet, Spartan pursuit of Barry Bonds' home run record, we offer a much different crystal ball. Think of the last 24 hours as a sneak preview.

In just one day, A-Rod foolishly confessed to a long-running regret that he didn't end up with the Mets in 2000, then fended off Jose Canseco's implied accusation of steroid use. It was a busy news cycle for the Yankees' slugger, but then again, aren't they all?

Turns out Canseco had little to show for all the huffing and puffing about bringing down A-Rod; in his soon-to-be-released book, the only "evidence" of Rodriguez's cheating was Canseco's statement that he introduced him to a known steroids peddler. A-Rod emerges crime-free, but that's not to say the Yankees can count on him to keep his mouth shut, not even after signing that historic $275 million deal during the winter.

Put it this way: Imagine how the Yankees feel today knowing the cornerstone of the franchise, to whom they've committed $275 million, has been pining for the Mets all along.

That's what A-Rod told the New York Daily News on Tuesday, that he wishes he hadn't allowed himself to be steered toward the Rangers and their record-setting $252 million deal eight years ago. Rodriguez actually was bashing agent Scott Boras, but in doing so, expressed a retroactive admiration for the Mets that can't possibly sit well with the Bombers.

Even if Rodriguez is telling the truth - and his recollection is faulty; the Mets turned him down, not the other way around - he should know better than to be kissing up to the Yankees' cross-town rivals. The slugger can't have it both ways: he can't sell himself as an old-school, to-the-bone Yankee and then admit he could've (and should've) been playing at Shea.

Of course, the Yankees will never react to this in an official capacity. Not now, not after anointing A-Rod as their caretaker for the next decade. This is officially his team now, not Derek Jeter's, which means the front office is going to pretend A-Rod's comments never appeared in the newspaper.

But it tells you something about how A-Rod will be spending the next few years. He will be loose, open, telling us more than we need to know. And, apparently, Rodriguez won't be afraid to lay it on thick. Last week, he told The Boston Globe, "When all is said and done, Manny (Ramirez) will be the greatest right-handed hitter ever. I'm very biased because he's one of my best friends. I just love Manny."

Rodriguez's praise is nothing if not disingenuous: he's going to finish his career with more home runs, RBI and total bases than Ramirez, so why would he promote a concept he knows is statistically false? Because he thinks the fans at Fenway will be nicer to him next month?

If so, Rodriguez isn't just vain, he's terribly naive. But that's the surcharge the Yankees are paying for the third baseman's greatness. A-Rod is an amiable guy, but on a scale of one-to-tone deaf, he's off the charts.

Of course, the genetic coding for saying the wrong thing won't stop Rodriguez from hitting home runs in a steady blur. He's got a couple of more MVP awards in him, too, probably in 2008, as well. But the idea of A-Rod as a baseball warrior remains as alien as ever.

It's no coincidence that soon after re-signing with the Yankees, Rodriguez hired Guy Oseary, who's managed the careers of Madonna and Lenny Kravitz, to act as his new front man. When he was retained last December, Oseary told Variety magazine, "This is to help (Rodriguez) have more control of his image and brand."

To which Yankee fans must be thinking: If only A-Rod had similar control of his October slugging percentage.

Obviously, Rodriguez is the game's greatest five-tool player - ever - and the Yankees would've never made it to the postseason in any of the past four years without him. But does A-Rod really have to prattle on about the Mets, the Red Sox and whatever topic comes to him in the next soul-baring, Oprah-like moment?

It's not too much for the Yankees to ask A-Rod to do what he does best - hit fastballs to the planets. The rest can wait for Rodriguez's memoirs, which undoubtedly will have a chapter devoted to Canseco.

NEWS ITEM: Orlando Hernandez's fastball in decline.

The Mets are lucky Pedro Martinez is having a good spring, and that John Maine looks even better than that. If not, there'd be plenty of concern about El Duque's fastball, or to be more specific, its rapid evaporation.

At age 42, there's every reason to wonder if Hernandez's career is taking its final breath. He's revamped his delivery to take pressure off a chronic bunion on his right foot, without any success. Clocked at a mere 84-mph against the Cardinals last weekend, Hernandez is all but naked on the mound; he has no weapons to defeat major league-caliber hitters.

This would be a perfect opening for Mike Pelfrey, whom everyone in the organization keeps waiting to blossom. Sooner or later, the Mets reckon, their former No. 1 draft pick will have his breakthrough moment, but instead of progressing, Pelfrey looks more and more hittable, unable to command his slider in the strike zone.

Pelfrey will be handed the No. 5 rotation spot by default, but that still doesn't address the Mets' concerns about Hernandez (and the $6.5 million he's got coming to him).

Duque has been as tough and reliable as any New York pitcher in the last decade, but not even this wizard can create magic with a fastball in the low-80s. We may have seen the last of him.

Posted by Mike McDermott  at 8:12 AM | Permalink

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