March book reviews, part 1

The latest in a continuing series of book reviews of my current reading.

Today: A-Rod by Selena Roberts.

Earlier this month, I sampled two New York Yankees-centered books, and as the time comes to finally write my thoughts about them before March is gone (and they are no longer "March book reviews"), I will start with the good one first.

"Good" may actually be an understatement.

Selena Roberts' A-Rod is in the uppermost class of sports tomes, a well-researched book that not only breaks news but also tells a compelling story.

What is most well-known about the book by now, of course, was the case it laid for Alex Rodriguez's use of steroids, a story that Sports Illustrated scribe Roberts broke while writing the book. That vaulted the book to new levels of popularity and spawned numerous stories, but Roberts should be lauded for keeping the book's story intact once it was published. Steroids is just one storyline in the multi-faceted package that is her telling of the story of Rodriguez's life.

In the book, Roberts explains that the point of her taking on the project was to get to the bottom of a sudden aberration in A-Rod's life: His suddenly inconsistent, tabloid-courting public persona. A-Rod had always been a public figure, and always seem to attract trouble and distractions, but during the past couple years his life had suddenly erupted into a publicity extravaganza as he estranged his family, posed for cameras, started dating Madonna, and became increasingly erratic in his team commitments and public appearances.

Roberts decided to dig behind the image that was A-Rod and figure out who Alex Rodriguez was, and she explains in the book that there is a difference: A-Rod is the carefully sculpted image that is rich, famous, manipulated, and manicured; Alex is the person who knew how to play baseball and became obsessed with pleasing people but still had a human side.

Throughout the book, Roberts calls Rodriguez "Alex," and that is no coincidence. Rather than jumping on the bandwagon of criticism and pigeonholing that would be so easy after exposing him as a huge fraud and empty individual, she instead gives Rodriguez the benefit of the doubt. She doesn't prey on his faults but instead tries to explain them. She shows his family background and uses his friends' supporting voices. You can easily see how Alex became A-Rod, and you can even feel it's not Alex's fault. You can even hope Alex will return to being Alex.

But A-Rod is the title of the book, for that is what Alex Rodriguez has become. From his high school days to his current ego-bloated self, Roberts show a slow transition from a person-pleasing, talented youngster to the image-obsessed man who wants to break records, have the perfect body, be the best, and gather adoration. The problem was always the same: Rodriguez saw what he wanted to be (often from the mouths of ill-intentioned friends and advisors), and he chased it even if he could never become what was on the other end.

The result was the reputation that sticks to A-Rod more than his great baseball numbers or his kind moments; he is known as a fraud, as an empty person putting on a show he is desperately trying to support.

It's a terrible trap, and Roberts' exploration of how key choices along the line in choosing advisors and lifestyle attitudes can derail a life. From Rodriguez's father leaving him as a child to a money- and power-hungry agent (Scott Boras), A-Rod could never get enough to complete that perfect image, and all his tries along the line only humiliated him more. No one ever told Rodriguez that he could just be Rodriguez; years later, that Alex doesn't even exist anymore.

Ironically, A-Rod's need for self-gratification was what led to his biggest collapse. When he moved to New York, all the factors that had been contributing to him becoming a more controlling, self-centered, fraudulent person were basically put on Big Apple steroids. He courted the intellect, the fashion, the popularity of the city, and within a few years, his family was in shambles as he was chasing pseudo religions and 50-year-old pop stars. His alarming emergence into total tabloid buffoonery started Roberts' investigation, and she was totally shocked when she started hearing whiffs of steroids.

Through careful reporting, Roberts found there was more than suspicion; A-Rod was one of the biggest users. So, in an attempt to write a story about A-Rod and his strange image quest, Roberts unearthed the biggest emblem of who this A-Rod was: In a desire to please, Rodriguez lived off of steroids because of the great pressure he felt to please people and be the best.

When the steroid story broke, Rodriguez of course tried to take down Roberts, but her research was flawless, and she had many mainstream sources to corroborate her case. Near the end of the book, Roberts spends a little time explaining this and defending herself. She is respectful yet firm and complete in showing that the charges were ludicrous, and that the way Rodriguez treated her (even in an "apology") only reinforced the entire book she had just written. Still, Roberts is a class act for placing her justification in the back of the book. She could have easily gloated and led the first two chapters with her self-defense, but instead she does just a little bit of pumping up (for a story that was massive in relation) to emphasize her points. Then she lets it go.

And what are we left with? An amazing portrait of a baseball star. The pressures, the insecurities, the culture—an amazing glimpse of modern baseball, with all its painful moments, are laid out in excellent storytelling. Roberts never suffers from the disease some sports writers have where they gather press clips and tell the consensus version of a story; she instead is a real writer, with piles of interviews providing all those sacred details that make for a great narrative that literally shows you what the high school baseball diamond looked like, and what the extent of A-Rod's public appearance snafus felt like to those watching.

Roberts is a great reporter, and you can see it in this book. And for those wanting a brief treatment in the world of baseball, superstars, or the human condition, this book is the place to go. Full of great details and quotes, it covers the game well without getting off-track. It teaches implicitly, from steroids to fatherhood to selfishness. It makes you cringe and realize there are many parts of Rodriguez you have seen in yourself, or someone you love, that you'd like to eradicate.

Best yet, though, is that Roberts is not dive-bombing A-Rod. When the steroid scandals broke, she told it straight and made sure everyone knew what he was doing. Those details are still in the book. But when Roberts tells Alex's story, it's honest enough to make you realize this didn't have to end up this way. Things could have been different. Alex, the ever-pleasing Alex, could have done it all differently.

Which means he still can.

Alex Rodriguez is a very flawed human being, but he still has amazing talent (and not just hitting a baseball). The guy had an ability to engage people, to be kind, to be genuine, and when he was dragged from the pinnacle he was trying to hard to stay aloft, it created the perfect opportunity to do a rewrite.

A season has passed since the steroid story broke and the book was published, and A-Rod acted considerably different this year. You may remember that the past season ended with the New York Yankees winning a World Series championship. It was an ultimate redemption for the superstar who was trying so hard in so many failing ways to be that perfect being—but who only got that ultimate World Series crown when all he had was taken away.

Rodriguez approached last season a new way, with considerable less gaffes, a lot less fawning and publicity, and very good baseball. He fought injuries and never saw his numbers rise. Yet there were rumblings he was showing signs of being a better teammate, and he started hitting when his team actually needed hits. The image wasn't his primary focus; his public life was considerably less eventful. He answered questions politely yet never felt compelled to answer everything, solve everything, be everything.

This is why we root for our superstars: Yes, he's flawed, but he's living despite the flaws. (For an alternative to Rodriguez's willingness to face his problems and turn things around, see Woods, Tigers.) And he's no longer trying to hide those flaws, or excuse them, or make them go away through sheer power, social connections, or showmanship. The world already knows. Why not just play?

A-Rod is no Derek Jeter. But neither are most of us.