Derek Jeter Shoots Down the Legend of Him Giving Gift Baskets to His One Night Stands

Mike Stobe. Getty Images.

Like virtually every Masshole I know, I had my issues with Derek Jeter. He was a good ballplayer and all, but I still insist he's the most overrated athlete of my lifetime. That is a hill I am willing to die on. For most of his career he was a liability in the field. And for at least a decade, he wasn't even the best shortstop on his side of the Yankees infield. Yet Captain Intangibles would not be moved to better his team. His celebrated clutch postseason play is not supported by the numbers. As his team completed the greatest postseason series collapse in the history of North American sports, he hit .200 and slugged .233. While committing two errors. And much of the credit he got came from the fact that he played in New York all those years and never got into trouble. Like that's a thing. As Chris Rock famously put it, "You're not supposed to! What do you want? A cookie?" In other words, Nomar was better. 

Yet, also like every Masshole I know, I always had respect for the man. Make that RE2PECT. He was a winner, on and off the field. He has the rings to prove it. And prior to getting married to Hannah Davis, his Celebrity Body Count was as impressive, if not superior, to anyone's. Timberlake's. DiCaprio's. Anyone's. Like his championships, no one will ever be able to take these names away from him:

Just adding one of the Jessica's to your list would make a lesser man's career. Added both to this true Murderer's Row. And future generations who never saw him play will search these names, look at their virtual reality holograms, and scarcely believe such a man as he existed. 

Which brings us to the other, less confirmed legend surrounding Jetes. The one about his lesser, more anonymous conquests and how he thanked them for their service. The subject is broached in an ESPN The Last Dance-like miniseries about him called The Captain: And what he says is both revealing and heartbreaking to those of us who lived vicariously through him all those years:

Too Fab - Derek Jeter is finally addressing talk he used to send his hookups home with swag bags.

 The reports first came out back in 2011 in a New York Post article titled "Jeter's Booty Hauls" and claimed the former New York Yankee would give women who spent the night with him a basket of autographed memorabilia the morning after. According to the report, he allegedly gave one woman the same gift twice because he forgot about their initial tryst. This all allegedly went down after he split from actress Minka Kelly.

We interrupt this excerpt to bring you Lyla Garrity:

[H]e did address it in his new seven-part ESPN docuseries "The Captain," per The Daily Beast, which has seen the first five episodes. 

"Yeah, I read the article. Yeah, of course," he says in the doc. "You know, you see it, and then it's like, how the f--- did people come up with this? You know, basically, that’s it. And who would believe this shit? And you believed it!"

 "It's a story that became larger than life," he added. "People keep regurgitating this story that never happened. Never happened."

He also recalled a time he was at Starbucks and a man came up to him in line and told him, "Hey, I just want to let you know that I’m giving out gift baskets because you did." Jeter said he turned around and told the man, "You're a f---in' idiot" -- adding, "and the look on his face … like, did he think I was gonna say, 'Yeah, good job, man!'"

And so, yet another dream dies. Not with a bang, but a whimper.

I'm all about the truth most of the time. But as human beings, we also need great stories. Not to show us how the world actually is, but to point out the greater truth of what could be. The idea of the greatest swordsman of his day creating his own signature move to thank the ladies for their time was not only good etiquette, it was inspiring. It showed us ordinary slobs what was possible. And gave us something to aspire to. For instance, Brockmire not only started to give his sexual conquests the Jeter basket, he created the lesser Piazza basket for the lesser ones:

But now we have to face the harsh reality that this was all a myth. A figment of someone's imagination served on a cracker of tabloid gossipmongering. It's profoundly sad.

Personally, I just wish Jeter had left well enough alone. And can't help but notice he left it out there for a full decade. Until after he was settled into a marriage. Only then did he decide to pop the bubble. I suppose because it was good for business back when he was still adding names to his list. Like they say in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, when truth gets in the way of legend, print the legend. I'm sure a lot of ladies went home from his plush apartment empty handed and a little disappointed, but managed to get over it quickly because joining the mighty company of The Captain's Body Count was its own reward. But for fans of his exploits, this is a bitter pill indeed.