Yo, A-Hole: Will You Just STFU Already?

"I can't help that I'm a bright person," he said last month. "I know that's not a great quote to give, but I can't pretend to play dumb and stupid."

SI.com - Magazine - Behind A-Rod's tumultuous season

No, A-Hole, you're a fucking idiot; a dumbass squared. The proof is right here in this article. What were you thinking while you were talking to this guy? Did you think this was gonna do you any good, or was it just the idea of getting your mug on the cover, even though you were playing like shit?

It's no wonder Jeter wants little to do with you:

Here is the way Hall of Fame slugger Reggie Jackson, a Yankees special adviser and a member of the franchise's mythological pinstriped society, explained the yin and yang of the Jeter-Rodriguez relationship: "Alex is too concerned with wanting people to like him. Derek knows he can control only things within the area code DJ."

You are so hung up on trying to get everyone to "understand" you that the result is Yankee fans look at you and do NOT see a Yankee, they see another of Darth Boss George's mercs. Which in itself isn't a bad thing, but you seem to be an oblivious, emotionless bastard to boot.

Earlier this month, in recalling the meeting with Torre, Rodriguez said, "Oh, he was real tough. That was the toughest he's been on me."

On the night of the meeting Rodriguez struck out as a pinch hitter to end the game. He whacked the dugout railing with his bat, walked up the runway and into the clubhouse, and picked up a folding chair and threw it.

If Paul O'Neil went through a slump like you were in, no watercooler would be left standing; bat racks would have been turned to kindling. But you? Goddamnit, Torre had to tell you to act like a human and show some emotion, show their was some fire inside. The idea never entered your head until Torre put it there!

Fer chrissakes, the ex leader of the Boston Idiot Brigade, the player formerly known as "Cave Man," is more a Yankee--in less than a season--than you will ever be. Not because of gaudy stats, or babbling to reporters, but because the little bastard is willing to do whatever it takes to help the team win. He doesn't need to tell us his "feelings," we can bloody well see them when he crashes face first into an outfield wall chasing down a ball.