Starting Five
1. The Tragedy of A-Rod
Alex Rodriguez, and the grin that hides the pain.
Robinson Cano takes cuts at pitches that his father throws at the 2013 All-Star Game Home Run Derby.
Derek Jeter’s father –and mother– attend more games at Yankee Stadium than many Little League parents do as well.
And then there is Alex Rodriguez, a third member of the New York Yankee infield the past few years who should have been a Hall of Famer (and a first-ballot Hall of Famer, at that), who has never had a relationship with his father. It shows in how A-Rod is constantly trying to win our approval while never confessing to any of his myriad sins, baseball and otherwise. Rodriguez has a pathological need to demonstrate to us that he is not at fault, or that he is doing the right thing, that he is perfect.
And as the evidence consistently piles up at him that he is far from it –whether the New York Post splashes a photo of him entering an elevator with a buxom blonde while he was still married, or if MLB pummels him with Biogenesis evidence — Rodriguez still refuses to face the music.
Refuses to acknowledge: I cheated. Because who will love him if he does that? I’m just a poor boy/Nobody loves me. )He’s just a poor boy/From a poor fa-mi-ly.)
It’s a sad tale.
Arizona Diamondback pitcher Patrick Corbin, just 23, is 12-1 in his first full season in the majors.
Dodger rookier Yasiel Puig is a beast.
The Pittsburgh Pirates don’t suck!
And all we talk about this season is Alex Rodriguez, who has yet to have an at-bat. Because we don’t watch sports, we watch PEOPLE playing sports. And A-Rod is the ultimate Shakespearian tragedy writ large on a diamond.
Bob Nightengale of the USA Today says A-Rod will never wear pinstripes again, an assertion I’ve been making since last winter. And I still believe it after the events of the past 24 hours. The Yanks, by pushing back his rehab assignment to at least August 1, are buying time for MLB to suspend him.
2. John Oliver is NOT Boron Us
John Oliver: The true English prince of the Summer of ’13
Last night’s episode of The Daily Show — my only MUST WATCH program — featured a blistering opening segment about, I’m sorry, the bullshit that Goldman Sachs is perpetrating. In brief, GS owns aluminum storage warehouses and it also has the ability to bet vast sums of money on commodities futures. Do you see where that may be a conflict-of-interest? If you do not, then watch the segment.
Also, if you ever wondered how intellectually dishonest Fox News can be, their business analyst, Charlie Gasparino (a frequent guest at the steakateria who treats the staff with respect) claims on-air to not be able to understand the skullduggery that GS is pulling.
Geez, this is classic, classic stuff. I’d invite Oliver and his serfs to send this in as their Emmys reel, but they’ve done half a dozen pieces this solid in his brief interregnum. Brief, but glorious.
Also, my man Jeff Bradley’s big brother, Bob, the soccer coach of the Egyptian national team, makes an appearance later.
3. The Young and The Penniless
“Glory days, they will pass you by…” (that’s your author just off Young’s left wrist band)
The shameful aspect of Vince Young being bankrupt isn’t the fact that only seven years earlier he signed a contract that guaranteed him $26 million. The shameful aspect is that on top of that he took out a $1.7 million loan.
And now the former Texas quarterback, one of the best players (if not THE best) to not win a Heisman Trophy in the past decade, is flat-broke. And must auction off most of his stuff.
4. “At the Pope-a, Pope-a-cabana, the hottest priest south of Havana…”
Waves of people meet waves of water. I’ll take the ocean minus the points.
How can you not love Pope Francis? This pontiff knows how to party, throwing a massive, well, mass at Copacabana Beach in Brazil. Let’s continue this tour with stops in Cabo, Manhattan Beach and an Ash Wednesday service amidst the flotsam of empties on Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
Impressive, but let’s see the replica of St. Peter’s Cathedral.
Francis: The pope who’s dope!
5. Blood on the Tracks
Garzon: Going off the rails on a crazy train.
In the words of another man with a thick Spanish accent, the driver of the high-speed train (KTVU is identifying him as “Speedy Gonzalez”) that crashed in Spain, claiming 78 lives, “has some ‘splainin’ to do.”
It seems that the driver, whose actual name is Francisco Jose Garzon de Amo, boasted on Facebook of the excessive speeds at which he enjoyed driving his choo choo.
“Facebook: the rope that lets you hang yourself.” (That should be it’s new motto.)
I’m on daily A-Rod watch. Five hours on sidewalk outside Yankees complex yesterday, three today. So he can drive past the reporters waiting in person for him — some whose papers flew them down from New York — then call Francesa.