But still I’m cautious because I’d been burned before.
Back when I played for the Rangers I took a ton of steroids and later I lied about it to everyone, including Katie Couric, who wouldn’t even have a drink with me later.
Her loss, by the way.
Still I got in big trouble with the league, and to play ball again I had to promise to stay clean.
That’s why I cross-examine Dr. Bosch before buying any of his skin products. “Hey, dude,” I say, “this stuff isn’t full of hormones or ‘roids, is it? Because I am never, ever taking performance-enhancing drugs again!”
“Chill out, A-Rod,” he says. “Do I seem like the sort of guy who would peddle banned substances to professional athletes? Does this look like the type of establishment involved in black-market activities?”
And I’m thinking, he’s absolutely right. What am I so worried about? After all, this is South Florida, the last place you’d ever expect to find a fake doctor running a fake anti-aging clinic.
Only, guess what. The joint shut down and it turned out Bosch was totally bogus, even his white lab coat.
And now he’s telling everyone that I paid him thousands in cash to get all juiced up on testosterone and HGH, which is ridiculous.
(OK, it might be true that in 2012 Bosch and I spoke 53 times on the phone and exchanged 556 text messages, but my skin was super dry that year so I kept running out of his special moisturizer.)
There’s way more that I’d love to tell, but for now my lawyers want me to be quiet while they sue people.
If the Yankees think they’re finally rid of me and my humongous salary, they’re wrong. I fully expect my suspension from baseball to be reversed, and I’m eagerly preparing for spring training and an All-Star, lozenge-free season.