Greetings, Yard Workers. For those of you not familiar with my rugged good looks and ambidextrous charm – where the f*ck have you been? I’m media darling (and Newsweek cover boy) Stephen Colbert, host of The Colbert Report, former Daily Show correspondant, and long-time Bringer of Truth. I take on the issues your run-of-the-mill lily-livered liberalista is too limp-wristed to tackle. That’s right – I don’t dive for the knees like some two-sport prima donna. I square myself and go for the upper body, because that’s the way you’re supposed to do it. You don’t take someone down by just wrapping your arms around him – you have to hit the guy head-on and drive his head into the ground with a good solid forearm. And maybe throw in an eye gouge or two, if the ref’s not looking. Because if you don’t do it, someone else will.

But this is a baseball website, and there’s no finer type of website out there (except for mine @ ComedyCentral.com, and my affiliated site, http://www.colbertnation.com). So let’s shuck off the shoulder pads and lace up our cleats. Today I want to talk about something that’s ruining America’s pasttime, a scourge that’s turning the great sport of baseball into something strange and foreign, like curling or hockey. Normally I would be talking about the DH and how it’s made good pitching and strategy obsolete on the diamond, but the signed Pat Tabler jersey I keep in my dressing room tells me that’d make me a hypocrite. Loved you with the Mets, Tabs. But, no, today I’m talking about New York Yankees stuper-star and well-known mercenary Alex Rodriguez. Speaking of limp wrists…

Seems “Mr.” Rodriguez took exception to the way organizers of the World Baseball Classic handled his wishy-washiness. After months of agonizing anticipation – emphasis on the ANTI, please – Alex decided to give his birthhome, the Dominican Republic, the bum’s rush, and lace up his cleats for the good old US of A. Now, if this were another player with Rodriguez’s political leanings, Rodriguez’s skills, and Rodriguez’s unthreatening good looks, I’d be overjoyed at this announcement. But, unfortunately for us, this is Alex Rodriguez. The King of The Choke. The Man With The Open Palm. A fair-weathered flouncing phoney.

Rodriguez denies reports that make it seem he was indecisive in his decision to play for the US. A-Rod? Indecisive? I’m shocked! After all, isn’t unwavering fealty to be expected from a man that opted to sign a ludicrous multi-year multi-million-dollar contract with a go-nowhere franchise? Should we not honor this man’s word as bond, a man that semi-orchestrated a trade to the winningest franchise in all of sports because oh boo hoo making more money than half the countries in Asia, Africa, or Europe is too much to take? I feel your pain, Alex, and I’m sure most Americas want you to feel that pain, too.

Rodriguez’s shameless go-for-the-gold, loyalty-be-damned attitude is endemic of everything that’s wrong with professional sports. Seattle? The place that actually gave Alex a chance to play a child’s game? Where’s that, Alex will say while trading stock options over his fancy Bluetooth headset. Texas? Sure, Alex knows Texas Hold ‘Em, but don’t ask him about the Alamo or Enron now that he’s in Yankee pinstripes. And I’m sure when he decides that New York isn’t the place to be, he’ll put them out of mind before you can say “1918.”

Now the Dominican Republic is the latest to benefit from Rodriguez’s laissez-faire loyalties. Perhaps he was awestruck at the talent he’d be playing with – or behind – on this roster. Perhaps he saw a better opportunity to sieze the spotlight from American welterweights like Jeff Francouer or Randy Winn than his would-be Dominican brethren, players like Red Sox MVP David “Big Papi” Ortiz, or Orioles slugging shortstop Miguel “B-12” Tejada. Or that up-and-coming big bat for the Indians, Jhonny Peralta. Or that scintillating speedster, Mets shortstop Jose Reyes. Players with the character and respect and desire to win that Rodriguez’s pay-me attitude will never be able to afford. And, by the way, your majesty – that World Series ring Big Papi’s wearing isn’t for sale, either. Or maybe Alex is afraid of the spotlight, and prefers to hide under the coattails of a true patriot like Yankee teammate Derek Jeter. Or maybe there’s something else going on there, “Mr.” Rodriguez.

Anyway, Alex (if I may be so informal): I can only speak for myself (and my Nation), but your presence on the American roster is not a welcome one. In fact, I’ll take it one step further: you’re on notice, buddy. You can take your post-season swoons, and that $25 million dollar chip on your shoulder, and andale off to some other nation like the dirty plague-infested rat you really are. It’s only a matter of time before Alex realizes that his great-grandfather is 1/16th Korean, or that his love of Molson Ice supercedes his love of Bush & country, and I’m fine with that. After all, America is the land of the free and the home of the brave, two things that Alex Rodriguez will never, ever be. I’m Stephen Colbert.

Stephen Colbert will always be 100% American, even if he doesn’t pronounce the “t”.