A decade ago, baseball's three hottest rising stars were a trio of American League shortstops.
They all defied the traditional image of a middle infielder: rather than being scrawny, 5-foot-6-inch .240 hitters, they were huge, imposing guys who hit the long ball. In the late nineties, these three men became three of the biggest names in the game - they were young, marketable and, most importantly, talented.
You may remember these three men. Their names were Alex Rodriguez, Nomar Garciaparra and Derek Jeter.
A lot has changed for the Big Three over the past decade. Only one still plays for his original AL team (Jeter), only one is still a shortstop (Jeter), and only one still lacks a batting title (Jeter). But for some reason, I still can't stop thinking about the way things were back in the day.
One of my fondest childhood memories is of the summer of 1999, the year in which Fenway Park hosted the All-Star Game. Most people remember that All-Star break for the dazzling Home Run Derby, as Mark McGwire and Ken Griffey Jr. launched pitch after pitch over the Green Monster, or they think of the game's first two innings, as Pedro Martinez dominated the NL lineup en route to becoming the game's MVP.
But not me. I think of the first time I saw Alex Rodriguez as a guest commentator for ESPN. As he watched a certain Red Sox infielder step to the plate to open the Derby, he happily offered Joe Morgan his opinion on his position in the Big Three.
"We all know our place," he admitted. "I'm the youngest, Derek is the richest, and Nomar is the best."
I will never forget those words.
Throughout my teenage years, I was always jealous of Alex Rodriguez. I worshipped Nomar and the ground he walked on, but I could never get over the fact that my hero was the second-best shortstop in the American League. As great as Nomar was, Alex was king.
But as I look back, I don't think Alex has ever seen it that way. To Alex, it's never really been about him. He's always been too modest - he'd rather divert the attention onto someone else.
Eight years later, I now realize that that same modesty has come back to bite him in the ass. Because Alex Rodriguez is willing to downplay his own stardom, he's letting that stardom slip away.
Now a 31-year-old Yankee third baseman, A-Rod is still the youngest of the three men (obviously), but he's now the richest as well, and he's also the best. He will eventually go down in history as one of the top five players ever to set foot on a baseball field. Who knows - he may even be number one.
But no matter what happens, New York will always be Derek's Town. A-Rod can hit 800 home runs, win 10 MVPs, and unanimously cruise into the Hall of Fame, and it won't matter. He won't be the team's captain, he won't be the one hosting "Saturday Night Live," and he won't be the town's media darling - that title will always belong to the man playing 40 feet to his left.
Last week, I started to think about how all this must feel for Alex. When he showed up to camp in Tampa, Fla. last week, the truth came out, in a story broken by the Associated Press on Feb. 19. We got to know how the two-time MVP really felt about the ... well, zero-time MVP.
"The reality is, there's been a change in the relationship over 14 years, and hopefully, we can just put it behind us," A-Rod said. "You go from sleeping over at somebody's house five days a week, and now you don't sleep over."
Ignoring the fact that 31-year-old men having sleepovers is a weird topic to bring up in an AP interview, I think we can see the real point here: the man is tired of hearing about Derek Jeter.
"Let's make a contract," he continued. "You don't ask me about Derek anymore, and I promise I'll stop lying to all you guys."
Am I the only one hoping that that contract gets signed, sealed and delivered as soon as possible?
I've always been one to believe that 99 percent of athletes who complain about their lack of "respect" deserve to be given Pedro's "Zimmer Treatment." There is an occasional case of an athlete who actually does deserve a more favorable public opinion, however. Alex Rodriguez is one such case.
It's about time that the best all-around player in the game today (that's right, I said it) stepped out of his teammate's shadow. Every last fan in Yankee Stadium who has ever booed A-Rod should be ashamed of himself, as should every last commentator who has ever complained about his "clutch hitting," or his lack of a "will to win."
It's all garbage. For some reason, the entire Bronx is in denial of the fact that its best player is the one with 464 career home runs and 10 All-Star selections at age 31. It's not rocket science - it's common sense.
I've spent the past few weeks using this column to grapple with the idea of stardom. What makes an MVP? An All-Star? A captain? It's more than just talent. There's something else there, and quite frankly, there shouldn't be. A-Rod deserves to be the undisputed king of Yankee Stadium.
But even if he isn't, the man will continue to perform, and that's what makes him great. Even if he never claims to be the best, he will be.
Or, as Confucius put it in the fifth century B.C., "the superior man is modest in his speech, but exceeds in his actions."
Wise words.
