A Gentleman In A Pinstripe Suit

"Actually, just a Tahoe," A-Rod said.

Crap.

Driving through the streets of New York City, I asked him which club we were going to after the game—Bungalow 8 or Crowbar? Does he do Cristal by the magnum? Maybe NOBU would hold a table for us, and we'd get the fugu?

"Actually, after a day game, I just like to come back to the apartment and watch the replay," A-Rod said.

"Replay? Of the game?" I asked, crushed.

"Twice," grumbled Gui Soccaras, Rodriguez's friend since they were seven, growing up in Miami. "We sit there and watch the game he just played—twice. And 10 other games [on satellite] besides. The guy is sick."

"O.K.," I said, "but after that we'll tear it up, right?"

"Well, after a night game, I do stay up until about three," Rodriguez said. "And what's cool about New York is you can still get great food then. So I just order in."

Starting at third base—Mr. Buzzkill.

"O.K., but what does the richest and coolest guy in baseball do in the city when he just wants to go off?" I asked. "You know, just get crazy?"