Hating the Yankees should be second nature to me. Rooting for them, is like being in the Goliath Fan Club, cheering on the lions against the Christians, exalting child abusers as role models.

They seem to win all the time. Their star pitcher, Roger Clemens, looks like a serial killer, and by all rights should presently be in prison, convicted of assault, attempted murder, and attempted assault, for two very public attacks on Mets catcher Mike Piazza last year. (In the first attack, during the regular season, Clemens deliberately hit Piazza in the head with a 95-mile-per-hour fastball; in the second attack, during the World Series, Clemens threw a broken bat head at Piazza, and would have maimed him, had the catcher not stopped dead in his tracks.) And seven of their sore loser players walked out on the media following an embarrassing, 14-3 playoff defeat at the hands of the Seattle Mariners in game three of last week's American League Championship Series. Following the Yankees' triumph over my beloved Mets last year, the New York Daily News published a letter I wrote, which had to rank as one of the shortest ever to appear in its pages: "Damn Yankees!"

But that leaves my Jeter problem.

I'd call Yankee shortstop Derek Jeter a throwback, except that such players have always been rare. My mother told me about how Joe DiMaggio turned down money to do cigarette ads, because he knew that the ads' purpose was to lure kids to smoke. Similarly, the word from my childhood that describes Jeter, is "clean-cut."

With a .320 lifetime average, Jeter is an excellent hitter, but has never led the league, and may never do so. He is a fast, smart baserunner, but will never win a stolen base crown. He will never be a slugger who hits forty home runs per season. Nor is he likely to ever earn a gold glove as shortstop. And yet, I think he's the most valuable player in all of baseball.

Derek Jeter is excellent, and he is a winner. You can forget everything else. Statistically, Barry Bonds is the best player in the game, and it is still a joy to watch the 37-year-old San Francisco Giant. Bonds just had a year for the ages, in the twilight of a career for the ages. And now, he even has a shot at Hank Aaron's all-time home run record. And yet, if I were building a club, and could somehow choose between Jeter and Bonds in their respective primes, it would be a no-brainer. Bonds has never won a World Series ring, and never will. He's always choked in October.

Among Jeter's peers, Texas Ranger shortstop Alex Rodriguez is the most impressive -- on paper. Rodriguez, the $252 Million Man, will win many awards, but like Barry Bonds, no World Series rings.

By contrast, 27-year-old Derek Jeter has, as of this writing, earned four World Series rings. He has been an integral part of each world championship Yankee team since 1996, and is now the team's unofficial captain.

Jeter makes routine plays; he makes extraordinary plays; he gets clutch hits; he never quits.

Many observers have justly lauded Jeter's play in game three of the best-of-five first round playoff series against the Oakland Athletics, that saved the Yankees' season. Facing elimination, after losing the first two games, the Yankees' Mike Mussina was pitching a gem, and had 1-0 lead, with the A's threatening.

On a base hit to right field, the As' Jeremy Giambi tried to score from second base to tie the game. Yankee right fielder Shane Spencer made a horrible throw, missing the cutoff man, but Jeter was right where he needed to be, on the first base line. Jeter caught the errant throw, and made a "shovel pass" to catcher Jorge Posada, who, blocking home plate, tagged Giambi's thigh about a millimeter short of the plate. The Yankees not only squeaked by, 1-0, but that play turned around the entire series.

In the fifth and deciding game, an Athletics batter hit a foul ball out of play. Except someone forgot to tell Jeter. Third baseman Scott Brosius, one of the best glove men in the game, was closest to the ball. When I first saw the play, in real time, it appeared to me that Brosius made the play. Brosius, however, gave up on the ball. But on came Jeter, who at the last moment, fell into the seats to catch the ball. The Yankees won that game, 5-3, to clinch the series against the A's.

In last year's World Series, the Mets lost the first two games. After winning game three, the Mets were positioned to knot the series at two games each. On a hunch, Yankees manager Joe Torre switched Jeter from his accustomed number two slot in the batting order to the leadoff spot. Jeter hit the first pitch out of the park, and the series was as good as over. When reporters asked him if he was "making a statement," he modestly said, "No," but he wasn't fooling anyone.

Perhaps the best example of Jeter's character as an athlete, is his signature play at shortstop. For just about any other shortstop, a ground ball that makes it to the outfield grass is invariably an infield hit. The fielder has the choice between "putting the ball in his pocket" (not bothering to throw to first base), or making a wild throw to first, which will result in the runner taking second base as well, on his error.

Not Jeter. Time and again, I have seen him range far to his right on to the outfield grass, backhand a ground ball, transfer it to his right hand, and spinning, throw a strike to first, cutting down the runner.

Jeter is not perfect. He's still a jock, and as such, if I had a daughter, I'd shoot Jeter before letting him come within a mile of her. And he was one of the seven prima donnas who refused to talk to the media after the 14-3 drubbing the Mariners gave the Yankees in game three of the American League Championship Series. But Jeter alone publicly apologized to the media the following day.

The guy's almost enough to convert a fellow into being a Yankees fan. Almost. Damn Yankees!

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Copyright 2001 by Nicholas Stix. All rights reserved.
Don't bring around a crowd,
to reign on my parade!