From the Goodyear Blimp overhead, the New York Yankees looked like a cluster of shooting stars Wednesday night, darting from all corners of the field to converge in a burst of pinstripes at the pitcher’s mound. But for Alex Rodriguez it was more like a jailbreak.

The Yankees’ World Series win was a liberating one for Rodriguez. He not only filled the championship void in his Hall-of-Fame resumé, but lifted the burden piled on by his critics that he has always played with a phony attitude. After years of futile efforts to reassure everyone of his commitment to being a good teammate, a proud Yankee, a tough-minded athlete and everything else he thought he had to do to earn the love of baseball fans, Rodriguez has been showered with praise and bona fide adoration for his clutch hits and prolific postseason production.

A television reporter approached Rodriguez for an on-field interview during the celebration. The final question was about his legacy, something the 10-year, $275 million third baseman has no doubt asked himself before, if not everyday.

Deflecting the focus from himself, Rodriguez said, “I’m just happy to be part of this team,” and dashed toward the locker room. This was one of many responses in which he mentioned his teammates, an uncharacteristic answer for a player who is well-documented as being self-concerned.

Has he changed? Or is this classic A-Rod, an overt attempt to sound like a member of the pack, when he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing?

A guy who has a painting of himself in the form of a centaur hanging above his bed has a long way to go if he is to be remembered as a humble altruist. Rodriguez’s multiple metamorphoses have been extensive. Jason Giambi was the most outspoken about his teammate across the diamond, describing him as playing with “false-confidence.”

“One thing people don’t like,” said another teammate in 2006, “is his body language. Too much of what he does on the field looks … scripted.”

Scripted is the perfect word. But he remains a bad actor.

During a deep slump in 2006 Rodriguez told Sports Illustrated’s Tom Verducci it was not a big deal. “It’s only two games,” he said. “Back in 1999 I was 5-for-81 (actually 6-for-62) and got an 0-and-2 fastball from Esteban Yan over my head and hit it out, and I was fine. This is nothing like that. It’s only two games.”

This instant statistical recall was indicative of his perpetual insecurities, his attempts to brush off every problem as if they were nothing, when really they tore him up from the inside out. It was a far cry from the team-loving leader he appeared to be this postseason.

I admit to coming off as cynical or even unfair. Like many Yankee fans, I have not been quick to embrace Rodriguez. And after years of wishing he would act less self-absorbed, he finally has, yet I am still apprehensive about fully embracing him.

Whether or not Rodriguez is still concerned with his reputation or not, his active role in this year’s championship run has sent him in the right direction.

While his jubilant celebration after the final out – arms raised, eyes closed, screaming his head off – straddled the line between scripted and genuine, his overall playoff performance has proven once again that at the end of the day winning means everything.Across the field a somber Cole Hamels reinforced winning’s power to heal and scar.

Reflecting on his early exit before officially getting hung with the Game 3 loss, Hamels addressed his mental state at the time. “I can’t wait for (the season) to end,” he said. “It’s been mentally draining.” It was an immediate fall from grace for Hamels, who was on the same stage last year when he led the Phillies to a World Series title, and was named the series MVP. After opening up to reporters, the lefty was vilified, labeled meek and cast as close to worthless.

As fans, we beg for some showing of emotion, a way to connect us to the athletes we worship. But it has to be the right emotion. Hamels was too honest and Rodriguez has always wrestled with the truth. The difference between them was the end result, which has been Rodriguez’s salvation so far. We’ll see if this A-Rod is real when the end result is not so clear.

Assistant sports editor Hunter Atkins is a Medill junior. He can be reached at [email protected].