For a player and person who’s made his living with his intelligence (or his ability to not do something stupid—your choice), this Derek Jeter “story” about providing his one-night stands with the memento of a signed baseball is typical of the New York Post.
Bearing an eerie and repetitive similarity to other stories that defy the test of logic (I keep thinking of the Marla Maples headline about Donald Trump “Best Sex I’ve Ever Had”—yah, right!!) you have to read between the lines to try and grasp the underlying agenda.
Jeter, with a bevy of starlets, actresses, models and assorted beauties in his past, has a reputation to uphold. Who knows what’s true and what’s not? There are rumors and suspicions about what’s really going on there, but what’s the difference?
This entire episode, however, is ridiculous in every aspect.
First, as I said, it’s the New York Post—truth is irrelevant; selling papers is paramount. With the Yankees quiet off-season on and off the field, what better way to generate buzz than with a somewhat absurd sex story about Jeter?
Second, this is just coming out now? Jeter has been a star since 1996. That’s 15 years ago. With the number of women he’s supposedly bedded over the years, it’s suddenly news that he provides those who aren’t on a level with Mariah Carey, Scarlett Johansson and Minka Kelly with a keepsake? “Here’s a signed baseball babe, thanks for the good time.”
Third, do you really think that Jeter is going to run the risk of anything—a disease, a paternity accusation, blackmail—by fooling around with the types of women for whom a signed baseball is an appropriate parting gift? At his level of fame, if he’s picking up strangers, they’re either going to be recommended by acolytes or compensated for their time; not necessarily with money, but with jewelry or another kind of gift that they wouldn’t get from a regular, run-of-the-mill sugar daddy.
Jeter’s history—never getting busted in any compromising situation; no DUI; no babies out of wedlock; no drugs; no PEDs; no nothing—is one of carefully protected branding. Part of that is the image of the partier who never lets that lifestyle interfere with his work ethic and dedication.
The story was funny and did what it was designed to do, but it sounds like the brainchild of a sleazy PR person or crafter of fictionalism for their own ends—like selling newspapers, generating webhits and putting up the pretense of Jeter being the ultimate love ‘em and leave ‘em stud.
If you believe it, then you’re an idiot.