New York Yankees slugger Alex Rodriguez hit his 600th career home run this week.

Yawn.

A few years ago, I would have been a bit more excited about A-Rod getting closer to erasing Barry Bonds from the record book.

In fact, when Bonds broke Hank Aaron’s record in 2007, one of the few saving graces of an otherwise bitter moment was this thought: “Well, dang. But A-Rod will break it in a few years, providing he stays healthy.”

Cue up the “Price is Right” fail horns.

I’ve never been a Yankee fan.

But I’d always been an A-Rod fan.

He just seemed to embody the kind of playing style and attitude that was the perfect attitude to Bonds’ surly, joyless play.

I thought he’d be a great home run champion - someone we could look up to.

All that changed in February 2009, when A-Rod admitted to taking performance-enhancing drugs from 2001-03, when he played with the Texas Rangers.

A-Rod hit 156 homers during that time — more than a quarter of his current total.

That’s a pretty big amount of dingers that can arguably be chalked up to cheating.

It could take A-Rod awhile to get to 700. Yankee manager Joe Girardi said this week that Rodriguez will “probably, maybe get more days off.”

Which is it, Joe? Probably or maybe?

Has A-Rod used steroids since? He says no — but I’m not sure whether or not to believe him.

You know, that whole “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me” deal.

Rodriguez does deserve credit for coming forward, although it was in response to a pending media report, and not out of any altruistic desire to come clean. For that, he should be applauded, as opposed to the stonewalling, filibustering Mark McGwire, the phony righteous-indignation finger-pointing Rafael Palmeiro and the suddenly non-English-speaking Sammy Sosa.

A-Rod’s admission was just one more stain on the game we love so much, another sad chapter to what will forever live in baseball infamy as “the steroid era.”

A-Rod, McGwire, Palmeiro, Sosa, and every other player who was on the juice have forever tainted an entire period of baseball history with their selfish actions.

They’ve caused the long, dark shadow of doubt to fall on others who played by the rules and did the right thing.

There’s really no fair way to deal with the fallout of the steroid era. No matter what is done, somebody is going to be understandably unhappy.

In my humble opinion, the only way to preserve the integrity of the game is to toss any record produced or contributed to during that time period.

That would mean Roger Maris is restored to his perch as the all-time single-season champion.

McGwire’s 70? Gone.

Sosa’s 66? Gone.

Bonds’ 73? Gone.

And Hammerin’ Hank is restored to his record as well.

Bonds’ 762?

Definitely gone.

If A-Rod gets to 763? Gone.

Fair? No.

But as many of us learned as kids, life isn’t always fair.

Contact sports editor David Vantress at 997-3111, ext. 14 or via email at dvantress@yourdailyjournal.com.