They can't break their promise. They can't cop out on their opt-out threat. They can't enter the free agent derby to chase a ballplayer who clearly cares more about the zillions in his vault than the rings that aren't on his fingers.

Yesterday, in a pathetic attempt to upstage the World Series, A-Rod played the only postseason game he ever wins. The money game. Rodriguez's agent, Scott Boras, told The Record's Bob Klapisch that his client notified the Yankees he will indeed run a fast break from his contract and sell himself to the highest bidder.

In the process, A-Rod validated all the talk-radio noise that radiated around him during his four title-free seasons in the Bronx. He isn't a true Yankee, all those Larry from Lyndhursts said, shooting daggers aimed straight for the slugger's heart.

Rodriguez made prophets of them all. In effect, A-Rod fired the Yankees. He put it in writing. He should have put it in blood.

A-Rod had been asked to attend Game 4 of the World Series here to receive an award in Hank Aaron's name. He blew off the great Aaron, citing family matters as a reason for his no-show.

Rodriguez found time to interrupt his picnic to eat the Yankees for lunch.

Hank Steinbrenner and Brian Cashman had warned Rodriguez that he would be done if he voted for free agency, done because the Yankees needed the millions upon millions in rebates that Rangers owner Tom Hicks was scheduled to provide over the next three seasons.

A-Rod called their bluff. Only it can't be a bluff. If the Yankees don't follow through here, no self-absorbed superstar or self-important super-agent will ever take them seriously again.

"I think we'll re-sign (Rodriguez)," George Steinbrenner had predicted on Oct. 6. "I think he realizes New York is the place to be, the place to play."

For A-Rod, New York was only the place to be and the place to play because it was willing to cover his tab and rescue him from last place. Now that A-Rod believes his $252 million deal is as outdated as a '57 Chevy, he has no greater ties to the Yankees than does Josh Beckett or David Ortiz.

Rodriguez could've had it all in New York. He could've broken Barry Bonds' home-run record in pinstripes. He could've become the Babe Ruth of the new Stadium. He could've secured the one title he needed to go down as a forever hero on the world's biggest stage.

A-Rod sold all those prospects down a river called greed. Boras convinced him to bail on the Yanks in pursuit of another Tom Hicks, another rich fool who will believe all of Boras' bunk about his client's "iconic" value.

After the 2000 season, Boras wasted three years of A-Rod's prime by packaging him to a baseball wasteland in Texas. The agent surrendered Rodriguez's cherished position — shortstop — when liberating his client from their Faustian deal.

This decision has no more redeeming value than that one. The Yankees were willing to extend A-Rod at a number between $25 to $30 million a year. They were willing to give him a combined contract that exceeded the $252 million deal.

"The only thing bigger than my contract," Rodriguez once told me, "is the New York Yankees."

Not anymore. The Yankees wanted to re-sign Rodriguez, and the third baseman didn't even have the decency to meet with them.

It's time to kiss this accidental tourist goodbye. Once again, the Yankees can't cop out on their opt-out threat.