Deep in the heart of the standings: the Rangers, like many teams, face a deficit as big as Texas, but Alex Rodriguez still sets the standard for playing well and playing hard

Sporting News, The, July 22, 2002 by Ken Rosenthal

So this is life at the bottom, a place from which not even Alex Rodriguez, baseball's $252 million man, can escape. Top of the ninth inning, the last-place Rangers lead the last-place Devil Rays, 5-3. A crowd of 30,762 stirs at the Ballpark in Arlington, anticipating postgame fireworks. But the Rangers are so inept, it appears that the sky--and the franchise--will remain permanently dark.

A popup drops at the feet of center fielder Carl Everett for a leadoff double. Closer Hideki Irabu walks the No. 9 hitter, then allows the tying run to score with two outs. Reliever John Rocker issues two more walks to load the bases, and in between catcher Ivan Rodriguez is charged with a passed ball.

"Oh, man," A-Rod says later, "I was dying."

Rodriguez is the game's highest-paid player, but for the next 10 weeks, he will be in the same position as the lowliest Devil Ray and half the players in baseball. His team is out of contention, with virtually no hope of playing in the World Series. Yet, he continues to display the same effort and professionalism he showed while playing for postseason teams with the Mariners in 1995, '97 and 2000.

The Rangers end up winning; Rocker escaped his bases-loaded jam, and Ivan Rodriguez hit a walkoff homer. But they entered the All-Star break 39-47, 15 games behind the division-leading Mariners. A year ago, A-Rod's first season in Texas, they finished 73-89, 43 games in back of the team he left behind.

From empty stands to unsettled rosters to increased selfishness among players, the game is different for teams buried at the break.

"I was on a playoff team one time; says Devil Rays catcher John Flaherty, who spent the last half of the '96 season with the N.L. West champion Padres.

"It was the easiest three months of my baseball career. You know you're playing for something. Everybody is on the same page. The focus is on the team, not on yourself.

"The reverse of that is when you go out there and you're on a losing club. You really get your professionalism tested."

Watching Rodriguez, Mariners bench coach John McLaren says he detects "a lot of frustration" in his former player. The strain is unnoticeable. In a three-game sweep of the Devil Rays, Rodriguez plays hard from the first pitch to the last, getting thrown out at the plate after running through a stop sign in the series opener, helping the Rangers rally from a 6-0 deficit with a home run in the finale. He applauds his teammates, makes difficult plays at shortstop, delivers dutch hits.

At the All-Star break, the Rangers' attendance was down 18.8 percent from a comparable number of home dates last season, the biggest decline in the majors. But Rodriguez, who turns 27 on July 27, entered the break leading the American League with 27 homers and 73 RBIs.

"He easily could be the MVP," says A's second baseman Randy Velarde, a teammate last season in Texas. "A lot of people would argue no, because he doesn't play for a winning team, but I'd argue that's even harder--to do what he's doing on a team that's not very good, that's not drawing and in that heat."

Phillies outfielder Ricky Ledee, another member of the 2001 Rangers, recalls that manager Jerry Narron would fill out two lineup cards last September, one with Rodriguez's name, the other without it. Narron would show the cards to Rodriguez, asking him if he wanted to take a day off. Rodriguez always opted to play.

Ledee, also a member of the Yankees' world championship teams in 1998 and '99, calls Rodriguez "the best teammate I've ever had."

"He's full of desire, the way he prepares himself," Ledee says. "Just by watching him, you keep learning all the time."

Rodriguez is relentless with a cause.

"I have incredible motivation to go out and improve every day," he says. "Integrity-wise, I cannot allow whether the team is winning or not to affect me. I'm going to give maximum effort. I have to look at myself every day and judge myself on my work ethic."

For $252 million, maximum effort is the minimum the Rangers should expect from Rodriguez. As Rangers first baseman Rafael Palmeiro says, giving 100 percent "shouldn't be a hard thing, no matter how bad the team is playing. It's really an obligation."

Of course, it's not that simple. Money spoils players. Losing sours them. One scout cites Roberto Alomar, Frank Thomas and Jim Edmonds as examples of superstars who elevate their performance for winning teams but grow distracted with losing clubs.

"You have to find a way from within to stay focused and make sure that you're battling every pitch, every out, just like you were on a championship team," Flaherty says. "It's easy for a couple of games, but day in, day out, it becomes a grind."

Royals first baseman Mike Sweeney, the A.L. batting leader at the break, says he's better off ignoring his team's poor standing. "I think it's good that I'm not a real big fan of the game," Sweeney says. "I don't even know how many games under .500 we are or how many games back."

Rodriguez is just the opposite, a numbers guy who is all baseball. He admits that he gets beaten down by the Rangers' struggles, but he played for losing teams with the Mariners in 1998 and '99. "People don't understand--I've been through this before," Rodriguez says. "Those were two of the toughest seasons of my career." He kept his faith then and he's keeping it now, believing he again will be rewarded.