Several years ago a reporter friend of mine compared covering the NBA to chronicling a soap opera. What was important were the feuds, the back-stabbing, lobbying, legal troubles and crazy behavior of the players.

I remember smugly (and somewhat naively) thinking that was why I like baseball more the basketball, because despite the sports’ warts, the games on the field still held sway over the games off it.

Was I ever wrong.

Baseball, if it ever was like I imagined, has officially become a tabloid sport. The New York Yankees were always good for bad behavior and the headlines that accompanied it. Because of their location, history, owner and wealth they seemed to operate in a galaxy far, far away from the rest of the teams.

Now the entire sport inhabits that alien planet. Consider:

• Forget the Kobe-Shaq rivalry. That’s as yesterday as pagers. The new sports rivalry is between the Yankees’ Derek Jeter vs. Alex Rodriguez.
Media outlets were falling over their laptops this week to report A-Rod revealing his relationship with Jeter has cooled and then Jeter’s reply to A-Rod’s non-news story.

Details emerged that the two don’t dine out or sleep over at each other’s house as much as they used to. I guess that means they don’t have matching footy pajamas anymore.

I can’t wait to learn more. On second thought, I don’t want to know any more.

• Of course there’s Barry Bonds, the perfect tabloid story.
The San Francisco Giants outfielder is perched to break baseball’s most hallowed record for all-time home runs and a lesser known mark for most antagonistic press conferences.

Besides that, Bonds is entangled in the BALCO-steroids mess and a potential indictment for lying to the grand jury. He is also responsible for the U.S.’s invasion in Iraq, back acne and the bird flu.

I just made that last part up; but you get the point. A Bonds story is just as likely to wind up on the front of sports as news.

Bonds smashes demographics like so many hanging breaking pitches. He’s a cross between ESPN, CNN and The National Enquier. The only way he could be more overexposed is if it comes out that he is the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s baby and is dating Paris Hilton.

• Two words: Roger Clemens.

You used to be able to associate that name with one of the greatest right-handed pitchers of all-time. Now he’s known as the guy who can’t make up his mind about retiring.

Will Clemens play this season? Will he go back to the Yankees or his original team, the Boston Red Sox? Or will he stay close to home and play for the Houston Astros like has the last three seasons? When will he decide?

There has not been this much speculation involving Texas since the nation wondered who shot J.R. from the heyday of “Dallas.”

Enough. I’m not mentioning Clemens’ name again until he actually announces what he’s going to do. If you aren’t saying, then in my book, you’re not playing.

• The whole fascination with Japan League-ace-turned-Red Sox pitcher Daisuke Matsuzaka.

I get it that Matsuzaka’s moving to the majors is akin to an American soccer player starring for Manchester United. But we’ve seen this story before with Hideo Nomo, Ichiro and a whole host of others who wound not being worth a mention in the small type let alone headlines.

Seriously, does Matsuzaka really warrant the type of scrutiny that he’s getting?

And just curious: If the Japanese media are this intent on covering sports stories, what happens when real news breaks? Would there be anyone left in Japan to cover it given the number of reporters and camera people who are counting how many pitches Matsuzaka threw from the stretch in his first bullpen session and how many times Ichiro swung during batting practice?

• In the Northwest we have our own little saga involving Ichiro and his contract, which expires at the end of the season.

You gotta love how Ichiro showed up at camp this week and gave a bunch of comments straight from page 1 of the how to handle a contract negotiation playbook.

More interesting than his words was Ichiro’s pulled down ski hat and pink T-shirt over a long-sleeved black shirt. He looked like a skinny bank robber with bad fashion sense.

Dressed as he was, he didn’t look like he could hold up a baseball bat let alone a franchise.

Before this is all over, Ichiro will have to spout a few more clichés. And, who knows what he’ll wear next.