After reading T.J. Simers’s terrficially abusive column on the philosophical paradigm of one Andruw Jones, I called my friend at the L.A. Times to see if I could plant a few questions. The friend in question is a junior sports writer with access to the beat writers who cover the Dodgers. A question given to him is passed to the ink-stained sign painters (beat writers–basically literary mechanics); the ink-stained sign painters then query the meat in the Dodgers’s clubhouse. Turn on MSN Messenger the next day (allowing for the time difference), and I’ve got my answer.

My question was simple: What interests Andruw Jones? The man must care about something. Why does he get up in the morning? When is he most happy? Here’s what I got:

Reporter: Andruw, what do you care about?

Andruw: What do you mean?

Reporter: I’m talking about the things that mean something to you. What are they?

Andruw: Things mean something? I don’t know…I guess the ones in the dictionary, you know.

Reporter: No. Your interests. Your goals. What makes you happy.

Andruw: I don’t know about none of that.

Reporter: But there must be something.

Andruw: Oh, man. What do you want to know?

Reporter: Forget it. OK. Forget it. Things you care about.

Andruw: Chile.

Reporter: Chili? The food?

Andruw: No, Chile. The country; with an “E”; three “L”s. I don’t eat red meat.

Reporter: OK. So, Chile. What else?

Andruw: I like Herbal Essences. The red kind.

Reporter: Oh, with rose hips. Yeah, that’s good. I use that.

Andruw: I like washing my hair; keeping it clean.

Reporter: OK. OK. That’s good. What about baseball?

Andruw: I play baseball.

Reporter: I know. But do you care about baseball?

Andruw: Man, you know, I wish they’d get new showers. Renovate or something.

Reporter: But on the field–

Andruw: The drain’s always clogging. The pressure’s no good. I never remember which one’s the hot and which one’s the cold.

Reporter: The blue is the cold; the red is the hot.

Andruw: We don’t got those, man. We got the ones with the “H” and the “C.”

Reporter: Fine, but is there anything about the game that interests you? The fans? The challenge?

Andruw: No. Period. Write that down. ‘Period.’ Not just the squiggly line and the hook. If they want to pay to see me, that’s their problem. I don’t need their money. I don’t see their names on my cheque. You know.

Reporter: Know what?

Andruw: Baseball’s not hard. You hit the ball, or you don’t.

Reporter: And what if you don’t? Do you feel bad?

Andruw: No. I get out of the way.

Reporter: No, no. What about when you don’t hit the ball? I’m talking about you. What happens? Are you downcast?

Andruw: I’m standing up.

Reporter: Does it make you sad? I mean your feelings. What happens when you don’t hit the ball?

Andruw: I don’t know. Usually the catcher catches it. [Beat.] Pass me that shampoo bottle. OK. Shower time!

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