I finally found the time to read the ESPN The Magazine piece on Alex Rodriguez. The story paints Alex as a very complex person. Sometimes that complexity makes him seem more sympathetic, sometimes less. Yankees fans who only care about winning will like this part:

His bat isn’t quiet. Each time he connects, it sounds like a Civil War cannon. One, two, three balls go flying over the wall, where it says EXPLORERS. The boys whip their heads around, watch the balls soar into the outer darkness. Four, five, six balls sail toward the lights, prompting oohs and ahhs from all directions. Cars are now pulling off the road and people are watching. Seven, eight, nine balls go whirling over the center-field fence, and the left-field fence, and two boys beyond the fences scurry
in the underbrush to retrieve them. Some balls are screaming line drives, others are graceful arcing rainbows, and some just hang in midair, like big asterisks.

…

Rodriguez is settling into a sick rhythm, his Columbus T-shirt sopping — 11, 12, 13; when he finally, reluctantly, steps out of the cage, he’s clouted 27 home runs.

Newsday did a story on the story, with this from the author:

“There are people who have done far worse things and they are welcomed back into society. They hold elective office, run corporations . . . I think if you’re spending a good part of your day hating Alex Rodriguez you need to tap the brakes. You need to ask yourself, am I allotting my time correctly?”

The tragedy of A-Rod’s plight, Moehringer said, is that as an insecure person whose greatest wish is to be liked, “he winds up as one of the most hated people in America. It’s unbelievable. It’s Gatsby-esque. He has all of this money, but he’s incredibly alone.”