Then there’s the widespread notion that Rodriguez doesn’t hit well in the clutch, at least “the clutch” defined as postseason. Since the ability to hit in the clutch is taken by most as an indication of character, it’s not likely that A-Rod will shake this bad-clutch rep no matter what he does for the rest of his career.
How legitimate is the rep? The problem with arguing about clutch hitting is that, to paraphrase Wilfrid Sheed’s famous quip about the Mafia, we know everything about clutch hitting except whether it exists. But whatever clutch hitting is, most people are convinced that A-Rod can’t do it.
Years ago, after a long study on the subject, Bill James concluded that most hitters, given enough opportunities, will likely hit in so-called clutch situations just about what they hit over their career. My friend Nate Silver, baseball analyst and political pollster par excellence, told me years ago that he thought “producing wins at the plate is about 70 percent a matter of hitting ability, 28 percent dumb luck, and maybe 2 percent ‘clutch’ hitting skill.” He added, “I’m more sure about the 70 and 28 than about the 2.”
Let’s keep it simple and define clutch hitting as most fans do—postseason hitting. And it’s true that by that standard, Rodriguez isn’t a very good clutch hitter. But here’s the thing: After 39 postseason games, A-Rod—and you’re going to want to pay close attention to this—has performed almost exactly as well as previous Yankee greats Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra, Mickey Mantle and Reggie Jackson.
The key phrase here is “at similar points in their careers.” This sampling takes DiMaggio through the 1949 World Series, Berra through the 1955 Series before he hit those home runs off Don Newcombe and Jackson just prior to the 1977 Series, in which he hit five home runs. Before that, Jackson was hitting just .253 in 37 postseason games with only five home runs, and nobody was calling him “Mr. October.” Alex Rodriguez’s postseason batting average after 39 games is eight points higher after 39 games than Joe DiMaggio’s over 51 games; DiMaggio hit only one more home run in 199 postseason at-bats than Rodriguez has hit in 147.
The big difference between Rodriguez as a postseason hitter and DiMaggio, Berra, Mantle and Jackson is that they played on teams with good pitching and their teams won, so their clutch ability was never called into question.
No, the press doesn’t hate Alex Rodriguez because he can’t hit in the clutch or because he makes too much money or even because he once took PEDs. (In fact, many writers seem positively gleeful about the steroids because it gives him a reason to pin the entire steroid era on Number 13.)
Sports Illustrated’s A-Rod–steroids story, lauded by the national sports media as a journalistic masterstroke, is the result of information passed on by unnamed sources—almost certainly federal investigators who seized the 104 anonymous 2003 test samples and may be forced by the courts to return them.
The other 103 players who tested positive after their employer and union told them the results would be anonymous are probably sweating through sleepless nights, wondering if their names will also be leaked. I don’t think they have to worry. Sports Illustrated and the feds don’t really care about them. Their names aren’t needed to give credence to an investigation that has so far produced nothing but headlines; their identities aren’t needed to sell books. Only Alex Rodriguez’s civil liberties needed to be violated. What are civil liberties when you can nail the Devil?
editorial@observer.com
Alex Rodriguez.
