A-Rod didn't need to do it

1995: 1 homer per 8.1 at-bats 1996: 1 homer per 8.1 at-bats. 1997: 1 homer per 10.8 at-bats (that was in the American League. He was traded to St. Louis somewhat late in the year, and in in just 174 at-bats he hit a homer per 7.3 at-bats. Preposterous! Nobody could do that for a whole season, right?). 1998: 1 homer per 7.3 at-bats (well, maybe someone could. A new record. It seemed unbreakable. Then Barry Bonds broke the record three years later -- one homer per 6.5 at-bats. And, it's quite likely that nobody will ever break that record.). 1999: 1 homer per 8.0 at-bats. 2000: 1 homer per 7.4 at-bats (but he was breaking down and didn't get enough at-bats to qualify) 2001: 1 homer per 10.3 at-bats (this was when McGwire was a shell of himself; he hit .187).

Point is there was every reason to believe that what we were seeing was, at the very least, odd. You might be able to stretch your mind and believe that Bonds simply dedicated himself to the weight room like never before, that McGwire was finally healthy and playing in a golden age for sluggers, that Clemens just worked ferociously hard to keep his edge. But, even so, even their biggest fans understood it was a stretch. These were mind-bending achievements.

But A-Rod ... he wasn't a stretch. He was a phenom from the day he was born. Red Sox special assistant Allard Baird always tells this great story about the day he scouted A-Rod in high school. He sent in a report so glowing -- he gave the young Alex scouting grades of 80 which, essentially, indicate "Hall of Fame tools" -- that he was literally shaking with nerves when he sent it in.

First pick in the draft. A few at-bats in the big leagues when he was 18. One hundred and seventy total games in the minors (he hit .326/.386/.600), and he could really run, and he played good defense at shortstop, and he had a preposterously strong arm. He got a few too many at-bats in 1995, or else his 1996 would have been one of the greatest rookie seasons in baseball history. As it was, few 20-year-olds have ever come close. He led the league in hitting (.358), he banged 36 homers, drove in 123 RBIs, scored 141 runs, stole 15 bases and crushed 54 doubles. What was possible? Hell, what WASN'T possible.

Greatest ever seasons for 20-year-olds:

�€� Ty Cobb, .350/.380/.468 with 49 stolen bases and 168 OPS+
�€� Mel Ott, .328/.449/.635 with 42 homers, 151 RBIs and 165 OPS+
�€� Al Kaline, .340/.421/.546 with 121 runs scored and 162 OPS+
�€� Mickey Mantle, .311/.394/.530 with 162 OPS+
�€� A-Rod, .358/.414/.631 with those 54 doubles and 160 OPS+
�€� Ted Williams, .327/.436/.609 with 145 RBIs and 160 OPS+

You could argue that A-Rod was the greatest 20-year-old ever, but no matter what you argue, he was in the company of legends.

Two years later, he had that 40-40 season -- 42 homers, 46 stolen bases. Isn't it interesting that three players who have hit 40-40 are Jose Canseco, Barry Bonds and A-Rod? Alfonso Soriano is the fourth. That's a tough room right now.

A-Rod hit 52 homers in 2001 and 57 the next year -- absurd, unheard of numbers for a shortstop (and he won the Gold Glove the second of those years). He hit 47 homers and put up a 147 OPS+ in that now infamous 2003; he won another Gold Glove, he won the MVP award. It was remarkable stuff. But we didn't have to squint to believe. A-Rod had that sort of talent. He was young and coming into his own. He was born for this.

So, those are two differences with this A-Rod story. The story just seems more tangible (even if the source of the story does build around a test that was supposed to be kept anonymous -- someone from the player's' union people has to get fired over this, no?). And the story may seem somewhat more shocking because A-Rod seemed to have it all.