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Stalking A-Rod

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Judging by the Matt Damon article I posted three weeks ago, many of my readers are going to be upset that I stalked New York Yankees third basemen Alex Rodriguez this past week in order to photograph him.

But I did wind up with a photo published in the New York Post.

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Judging by the Matt Damon article I posted three weeks ago, many of my readers are going to be upset that I stalked New York Yankees third basemen Alex Rodriguez this past week in order to photograph him.

But I did wind up with a photo published in the New York Post.

For those who do not keep up with these type of things, Rodriguez, better known as A-Rod, is the highest paid player in the major leagues, signing a $275 million 10-year contract in December 2007.

This week, he created a major league scandal by admitting that he had used steroids back in 2003. Of course he volunteered this information after Sports Illustrated broke the story last week.

Now I really don’t care if he used steroids. The way I see it, professional sports is so infused with steroids that I think it is naive to believe that A-Rod or any other star player did not use steroids. And the issue may be serious for Major League Baseball, but it surely doesn’t merit Congressional hearings.

Especially considering we didn’t hold Congressional hearings on any of the crimes committed during the Bush administration.

Nevertheless, the issue was important enough for the New York Post to hire me to stalk A-Rod for three days straight. The one thing I can tell you, he is definitely a creature of habit.

Much of my time was spent with other paparazzis hanging outside the University of Miami gym waiting for him to emerge.

Or hanging outside his ex-wife’s house in Coral Gables waiting for him to emerge.

Or hanging outside his office building in Coral Gables waiting for him to emerge.

At one point, Miami celebrity nightlife writer Kris Conesa and I followed A-Rod’s Maybach in Conesa’s Mustang through the Gables and down US 1 and into Kendall and onto the Palmetto Expressway.

He doesn’t allow a few annoying photographers to alter his routine.

As much as we pestered him, he handled it well, even greeting us one morning after he walked out the gym. And he never he broke the speed limit as we followed him. He would even use his turn signals to give us fair warning when he was turning.

It turns out, he sees the paparazzi as his “dysfunctional family.”

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