Alex Rodriguez is going hybrid.

That actually has less to do with his commitment to environmental friendliness than it sounds.  It’s just a cutesy putesy (stupid) way to refer to his decision to take a middle-of-the-road course of action–arthroscopic surgery.  It’s less aggressive than his other surgical option but obviously more aggressive than rehab without surgery.

This statement comes on the heels of the statement that A-Roid was going to try to avoid surgery if at all possible.  That statement, of course, came on the heels of another statement that he was most likely going to have surgery. And all these statements happened within the span of a week.

So many statements.

This begs the question:  Why not just make the statement that you’re going to reserve all statements until you have a good enough grasp on the situation to just make one statement–one final statement?  And when you are prepared to make such a statement, why not just avoid having anyone related to you communicate that statement to the world?  Even if that person is your brother and not your cousin.  At this point, the world is just plain old wary of anyone related or supposedly related to you.

When asked about how his main pain in the asset was handling the decision, Cashman seemed to think The Roid was taking it all in stride.  He commented, “When it first happened, he (Alex) said he was ‘bummed.’ That was the exact word.  Alex texted me and he was really positive. He is excited. This is what he wanted to do.”

First of all, if bummed is all A-Roid could muster or even pretend to muster about this, then that guy’s worse than I thought.  Seriously.  “Bummed” is how I’d feel if my coffee shop stopped using soy milk.  Bummed is this week’s episode of House is a rerun.

Second of all, what’s the deal with all these pro athletes having all their important conversations via text message?   I definitely get not wanting to talk on the phone.  Probably more than the next person.  But I’m also not communicating with ESPN about my impending decision to unretire.  Nor am I communicating with the GM of the Yankees about a surgery that’s going to put me out of commission for several weeks.

According to Girardi, Cody Ransom is likely to fill in until A-Roid gets his groove back.  And, honestly, I say to Alex, “Don’t let the door hit you on asset on the way out.”  I don’t care what kind of numbers that guy posts.  I’m sick of hearing about Frost Tip. And I can’t imagine he’s not a distraction in the clubhouse.  So, maybe this is all for the best.  He disappears for a while, the boys get their rhythm, and by the time he comes back all of the scandal surrounding him has died down-including the impending, inevitable scandal that will certainly come with the release of the Selena Roberts book.

The real tragedy here is that when you look at a guy like Alex Rodriguez, you should just see a winner.   Somehow, though, he has managed to whittle away at all that talent and potential until all that remains is a guy who’s kind of a loser.  Sure, you can laugh if you want.  I’m just the blogger who’s making no money and talking smack from the safe enclave of my room and he’s the guy with the $272 million contract.  But tell me; is the big contract all one really needs in order to be considered a winner?

When I look at A-Roid, all I see is a guy who came to the Yankees to get a ring and has since never been able to even see the Bombers to the World Series. A guy whose talent will always be questioned because of his using of performance enhancing drugs. A guy who left his wife and kids to be with an aging pop star who was only with him to increase her tour’s sagging tickets sales. A guy who is so obsessed with public opinion that it inhibits his ability to perform under pressure.  A guy with a freakishly large hip cyst, the drainage of which the whole world got to hear about.  A guy who waits until halfway through spring training to address this hip cyst and, as a result, fails to see the underlying problem.  A guy who frosts his tips. A guy with all the natural ability in the world who still manages to look like a loser to me. That’s a feat.

I don’t like Manny Ramirez, but Manny Ramirez is not a loser.  Manny Ramirez is a winner.  He wins at life. Dustin Pedroia is the definitive ass clown.  Yet, he wins at life.

Well, it’s like he said. A-Roid laid his bed.  Now he has to sit on it. Lucky for him he can afford to buy sheets with a high thread count.