A-Rod and His Gal Pal

FROM TODAY'S NEW YORK POST:


http://www.nypost.com/seven/05302007/news/regionalnews/hes_a_yankee_doodle_randy_regionalnews_dan_mangan.htm

By DAN MANGAN

May 30, 2007 -- Yankees superstar Alex Rodriguez stepped up to the plate with a mysterious, busty blonde in Toronto, as these intimate, exclusive photos reveal.

Cynthia Rodriguez - A-Rod's wife and mother of their 2 1/2-year-old daughter, Natasha - was nowhere to be seen during the slugger's big night out on the town, which occurred the evening before the last-place Bronx Bombers' pathetic 7-2 loss to the Toronto Blue Jays.

And it came as Rodriguez took a room at Toronto's Four Seasons hotel - down the street from the Park Hyatt, where most, if not all of his Yankee teammates and coaches are staying during a three-game stint that ends tonight.

C'mon, his wife would have just been a third wheel, besides she doesn't like blondes.

Wait a minute, he doesn't stay with his teammates? Who does this guy think he is, Roger Clemens. He probably doesn't want Jeter to steal another girlfriend from him.

"No comment," Rodriguez said when The Post asked him about his north-of-the-border jaunt with the blonde.

Yankees spokesman Jason Zillo said A-Rod has "never commented on his personal or private life, and he's not going to start now."

Right, just like his other nasty habits like not hitting in the clutch, NOT playing on a World Series winner, WHY START COMMENTING ON STUFF NOW? Just cram all those skeletons into a big closet marked "Alex's Screw Ups".

Rodriguez went 0-for-3 last night in the Yanks' 3-2 loss to the Blue Jays.

A-Rod started his busy Sunday in The Bronx, where the Yankees dropped a third straight game to the Los Angeles Angels.

At least the night wasn't a total washout. A size three collar and a waiting Hummer (He drives a Hummer, right?). That's a decent day at the park.

Rodriguez, who was wearing his wedding band, was casually dressed in jeans and a white, short-sleeved T-shirt featuring a large fleur-de-lis on its left arm. His tight-bodied, bleach-blonde gal pal was clad in a snug pair of blue jeans, a shiny, light T-shirt and wedge-heeled shoes.

See, he was wearing his wedding band. That means anything that happened is OK. These creeps in the media make me sick. Fleur-de-lis? Not very manly, but when you're A-Rod, you can pull shit like this off.

Home to what one Web site calls, "Toronto's most beautiful all-nude dancers," the Brass Rail is known for its booming sound system, overflowing crowds, overpriced beers and $20 lap dances - a drop in the bucket for Rodriguez, who has a 10-year contract worth $252 million.

Over-priced beers? But apparently very reasonably priced lap dances (no editorial). And the third baseman is no bargain at those prices either, pal. This writer has his priorities in place, huh?

Rodriguez and the blonde spent an hour or so at the Brass Rail, the witness said.
When they walked out of there, A-Rod and the woman were alone.

Those Rodriguez flunkies know when to make themselves scarce. They'd have spent more time at the bar but Alex is young and not very skilled in the art of conversation and the sexual tension it can create. Plus, he doesn't speak Canadian very well and his posse didn;t have a American-to-Canadian thesauraus.

They then got a cab back to the Four Seasons. Their cab pulled up to the hotel minutes after midnight.

Right before the beefy-armed bitch would have turned into a pumpkin. Good thing those dumb-f**ks were on Canadian time or A-Rod would have been wiping pumpkin seeds off his genitalia. Sucks when that happens.

A-Rod then strode into the hotel behind her. He rubbed his nose as if to obscure his face to other people as he joined her at the elevator bank.

As the doors to an elevator opened, he and the blonde got in together, the witness said.

The doors then closed, and they disappeared upstairs.

Yes, he strode the smug, purposeful stride of a stallion who just knew he was moments away from mounting his filly. Actually, he rubbed a different body part and did the F-you dance for the pathetic paparazzi, but they couldn't print those details in the New York Post, they have standards and journalistic integrity and junk.

Alas, we may never fully know what happened after those two hormonally charged hunks disappeared into the night, but if nine months from now, she pops out a tight-bodied, green eyed little muffin with GQ good looks, in a shiny shirt with a propensity for choking in the clutch, I guess we'll be able to connect the dots.

Good Luck in Divorce Court, what's 1/2 of $252 Million?