http://www.northjersey.com/
February 13, 2014
Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter swings at a pitch during practice at the Yankees' minor league facility Wednesday in Tampa, Fla. (AP)
How fitting, how perfect for Derek Jeter to end his career at Fenway Park on Sept. 28, in the heart of enemy territory, putting the final touches on an era of Yankees-Red Sox rivalry we’ll never see again. Jeter represents the best years of this beautiful power struggle, and you better believe, if the Bombers don’t make it to the playoffs, he’ll walk away to an ovation that would otherwise be treasonous for a visiting player.
But Jeter has never been your ordinary major leaguer. From the moment he stepped on the field as a rookie in 1996, he was always slightly larger than life — more successful than the scouts projected, more talented than his skinny body suggested and more charismatic than he should have been, considering outsiders like you and me never got past the front door.
Jeter was the Joe DiMaggio of our time, a star shrouded in mystery. No one ever played it closer to the vest; when it came time to announce his retirement on Wednesday, effective at the end of the 2014 season, Jeter took even the Yankees by surprise. There were no phone calls to the front office, no arrangement for a massive press conference, just a 14-paragraph post on Facebook that allowed Jeter to control the message.
Even Joe Torre, the closest Jeter has had to a father figure in baseball, said, “I didn’t know [the announcement] was coming.”
It was clean, efficient, flawlessly executed, just like everything else Jeter has done in his career. In an industry driven by ego and gossip and off-the-record back-stabbing, Jeter hasn’t made a single enemy in 17 years. You see it in the |way opposing base runners talk to him at second base, with near-|reverence. Jeter never embarrasses an umpire by arguing too loudly |or too long; he simply leans for |a few words that, true to form, aren’t meant for public consumption.
That’s why Jeter walks away without so much has a scratch on his reputation, because he plays the game without attitude, without an agenda and, let us assume, without steroids. Not only has Jeter served as the billboard of the beautiful war with the Red Sox, he has stood for success without chemicals, without the PEDs that Alex Rodriguez became so hopelessly addicted to.
Do I know for sure Jeter was clean? I have no data to back it up, but there are times when your instincts deliver an irrefutable verdict. Or as one major league executive, who’s known Jeter for parts of three decades, said last summer, “I would bet everything in my possession that Derek was never one of the bad guys [who cheated].”
That’s precisely why Jeter’s legacy will surpass the bigger, stronger and more talented superstars of this era, because what he has achieved — the five World Series rings, the 13 All-Star Game appearances, being the only Yankee to ever reach 3,000 hits — has been through hard work and a relentless competitiveness.
So therein lies the mystery of Jeter’s sudden announcement on Wednesday, the one that rocked the Yankees family. There was no reason to believe he’d had enough of baseball. If anything, the captain had poured himself into an intense off-season regimen in anticipation of yet another comeback. Jeter told friends he wanted to keep playing well into his 40s, perhaps to crash through the 4,000-hit barrier and someday pass Pete Rose for the all-time record.
That would be Jeter’s last laugh on the steroid junkies, outlasting them all, outperforming their beloved chemicals. It was reason enough for Jeter to keep asking more from his body, even as he finally began to break down last year. He managed only 63 at-bats and batted only .190, never fully recovering from the fractured ankle he suffered in the 2012 postseason.
So why quit now? Why map out an exit strategy when the bones had finally healed and the wide open space called the 2014 season looked so inviting? Maybe because the rebirth wasn’t going exactly as Jeter had planned. Perhaps he sensed the futility of asking a 40-year-old body to respond to daily stress as it did in its 20s and 30s. If that’s so, if Jeter really does see the end, good for him for being honest enough to say so — even in his own measured way.
Jeter’s honesty is a refreshing change from the non-stop lying we’ve been forced to endure from A-Rod. That alone would be enough to fuel a farewell tour for Jeter, although, let’s face it, being honored, city by city, month after month, goes against his profile, too.
Jeter has always been a man’s-man, old-school type of athlete, born without a Look At Me gene. But he knows exactly what’s in store, now that the world is waiting to say goodbye. It’s going to be a long, weepy summer for the man who never cries.
Let’s see what happens the first time Jeter starts waving to a crowd that refuses to sit down. Let’s see how Jeter says goodbye to his fans in the Yankees’ regular-season home finale on Sept. 25. Or three days later, when Mr. Yankee tips his cap to Red Sox Nation and realizes they’re not just cheering, but saying “Thank you.” Just a hunch Jeter’s eyes will glisten and it won’t be just because of the sunlight.
How fitting, how perfect for Derek Jeter to end his career at Fenway Park on Sept. 28, in the heart of enemy territory, putting the final touches on an era of Yankees-Red Sox rivalry we’ll never see again. Jeter represents the best years of this beautiful power struggle, and you better believe, if the Bombers don’t make it to the playoffs, he’ll walk away to an ovation that would otherwise be treasonous for a visiting player.
But Jeter has never been your ordinary major leaguer. From the moment he stepped on the field as a rookie in 1996, he was always slightly larger than life — more successful than the scouts projected, more talented than his skinny body suggested and more charismatic than he should have been, considering outsiders like you and me never got past the front door.
Jeter was the Joe DiMaggio of our time, a star shrouded in mystery. No one ever played it closer to the vest; when it came time to announce his retirement on Wednesday, effective at the end of the 2014 season, Jeter took even the Yankees by surprise. There were no phone calls to the front office, no arrangement for a massive press conference, just a 14-paragraph post on Facebook that allowed Jeter to control the message.
Even Joe Torre, the closest Jeter has had to a father figure in baseball, said, “I didn’t know [the announcement] was coming.”
It was clean, efficient, flawlessly executed, just like everything else Jeter has done in his career. In an industry driven by ego and gossip and off-the-record back-stabbing, Jeter hasn’t made a single enemy in 17 years. You see it in the |way opposing base runners talk to him at second base, with near-|reverence. Jeter never embarrasses an umpire by arguing too loudly |or too long; he simply leans for |a few words that, true to form, aren’t meant for public consumption.
That’s why Jeter walks away without so much has a scratch on his reputation, because he plays the game without attitude, without an agenda and, let us assume, without steroids. Not only has Jeter served as the billboard of the beautiful war with the Red Sox, he has stood for success without chemicals, without the PEDs that Alex Rodriguez became so hopelessly addicted to.
Do I know for sure Jeter was clean? I have no data to back it up, but there are times when your instincts deliver an irrefutable verdict. Or as one major league executive, who’s known Jeter for parts of three decades, said last summer, “I would bet everything in my possession that Derek was never one of the bad guys [who cheated].”
That’s precisely why Jeter’s legacy will surpass the bigger, stronger and more talented superstars of this era, because what he has achieved — the five World Series rings, the 13 All-Star Game appearances, being the only Yankee to ever reach 3,000 hits — has been through hard work and a relentless competitiveness.
So therein lies the mystery of Jeter’s sudden announcement on Wednesday, the one that rocked the Yankees family. There was no reason to believe he’d had enough of baseball. If anything, the captain had poured himself into an intense off-season regimen in anticipation of yet another comeback. Jeter told friends he wanted to keep playing well into his 40s, perhaps to crash through the 4,000-hit barrier and someday pass Pete Rose for the all-time record.
That would be Jeter’s last laugh on the steroid junkies, outlasting them all, outperforming their beloved chemicals. It was reason enough for Jeter to keep asking more from his body, even as he finally began to break down last year. He managed only 63 at-bats and batted only .190, never fully recovering from the fractured ankle he suffered in the 2012 postseason.
So why quit now? Why map out an exit strategy when the bones had finally healed and the wide open space called the 2014 season looked so inviting? Maybe because the rebirth wasn’t going exactly as Jeter had planned. Perhaps he sensed the futility of asking a 40-year-old body to respond to daily stress as it did in its 20s and 30s. If that’s so, if Jeter really does see the end, good for him for being honest enough to say so — even in his own measured way.
Jeter’s honesty is a refreshing change from the non-stop lying we’ve been forced to endure from A-Rod. That alone would be enough to fuel a farewell tour for Jeter, although, let’s face it, being honored, city by city, month after month, goes against his profile, too.
Jeter has always been a man’s-man, old-school type of athlete, born without a Look At Me gene. But he knows exactly what’s in store, now that the world is waiting to say goodbye. It’s going to be a long, weepy summer for the man who never cries.
Let’s see what happens the first time Jeter starts waving to a crowd that refuses to sit down. Let’s see how Jeter says goodbye to his fans in the Yankees’ regular-season home finale on Sept. 25. Or three days later, when Mr. Yankee tips his cap to Red Sox Nation and realizes they’re not just cheering, but saying “Thank you.” Just a hunch Jeter’s eyes will glisten and it won’t be just because of the sunlight.
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