ARod: “I’m 37. I’m tan. I’m a douche.”


by Alex Rodriguez with NOTSCMLB

I’m 37 years old.  I’m tan.  I’m a douche.

What a weight off my perfectly sculpted shoulders.  Some want to insist that being a douche is a choice, but it just comes naturally to me.

I always knew that I was a douche, though I had to struggle to hide that part of my life through my latter high school days.  It was such a challenge that I almost didn’t get drafted #1 overall, but it’s a testament to my talent that I was able to overcome and be selected ahead of all the lesser players that year.

My burden did not end after the draft, though.  I still had to suffer through the arduous climb up the minor leagues the reach Seattle.  After signing, I was immediately sent to AAA Calgary for a whole 32 games before finally getting that call up to the big leagues.  I was ready to share my greatness with the world, but my stay would be brief.  It might have had something to do with telling Randy Johnson that that creepy mustache made him look like a pedophile.  So, I started the next season in Tacoma.  Lesson learned.  The major leagues weren’t ready for a douche of my magnitude in 1994.

Again, I disguised my true self and eventually landed in Seattle for good in 1996, where I was fortunate enough to be managed by Lou Piniella.  It was a perfect scenario for me.  Lou told me, “Son, there’s enough pressure on a young phenom without being saddled by the bias of others towards douches. You do your thing and establish yourself as a certain Hall of Famer and let me be your surrogate douche.  You’re sure to be the best player of all time.”  He may not have used precisely all of those terms, but that was the essence of what he said.

Alex Rodriguez, the baseball player, flourished in Seattle.  ARod, the douche, would start to emerge in Texas.  It was inevitable, really.  A study by published by the “New England Journal of Medicine” proved that the chemical in the brain that produces the douche trait is stimulated by large sums of money.  I initially tried to counteract the effects with anti-douche injections.  While they had the amazing side effect of improving my play on the field, they did little to stymie my douchiness.  It was in New York that, like other who live there, I felt I could finally be free to be the douche that I was born to be.

It’s never been easy.  Walk a mile in my Gucci shoes and you will learn just how much we douches are discriminated against.  The looks I get from people and the comments I’m subjected to just for being a douche are horrendous.  I have endured and now feel like I can withstand any and all challenges that may come with being openly douche.  I am proud to be the flag-bearer now to other douches, not just throughout baseball but supreme athletes in other sports, like Tiger Woods, LeBron James and Lance Armstrong.

We’re douche!  We wear Nike Swoosh!  Get used to it!

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