There are three great mysteries of life in New York City. The first is, 'Where are all the baby pigeons?' The second is, 'Why aren't there any awesome tacos?' The third, of course, is 'When is Broadway going to make a musical out of 'Adventures in Babysitting'?'

To this trio of famous New York riddles we can now add a fourth: "Why doesn't anyone care about Alex Rodriguez's 600th home run?"

Now it's possible we've misjudged. Maybe you're spellbound since A-Rod hit 599 Thursday against Kansas City.

Alex Rodriguez eyes a milestone. Getty Images

Maybe you're reserving a celebratory table at Peanut Butter and Company right now. Maybe you've shaved a fat 600 into your chest hair and it's getting very itchy.

But your Yankee third baseman is on the cusp of becoming the youngest player to reach the 600 mark, and there's more electricity about John Mayer's Friday concert at the Today show. Only seven baseball immortals have reached this number: Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa, Ken Griffey Jr.—and Ken Phelps.

Wait: not Ken Phelps?

Even the Yankee diehards aren't swept up. Sure, there are some mercenaries who will overpay for bleacher seats, hoping to catch an eBay prize, but most Yankee fans are far more consumed with Andy Pettitte's groin, Derek Jeter's slump, and A.J. Burnett's post- meltdown dugout patty-cake routine to have emotion left for A-Rod.

In fact, Yankee fans would be grateful if Mr. Rodriguez's historic 600th dinger could leap over the fence and immediately transform into an effective starting pitcher.

There's been a lot of misguided speculation about what's really behind the A-Rod 600 ennui. It's the pennant race. It's the long, hot New York summer. It's the city's fixation with trying to see Al Pacino in 'The Merchant of Venice.'

As always, there's the hurdle of Mr. Rodriguez's own personality. He's a gifted superstar who doesn't inspire a swell of empathy. Even after finally guiding the Yankees to a championship, Mr. Rodriguez often orbits like a independent spaceship flying high above planet earth, along with his reported co-pilot, Cameron Diaz.

But let's not be ridiculous. There's only one real reason New Yorkers are ambivalent about home run 600. It's the juice. The PEDs Mr. Rodriguez admitted to using earlier in his career, back when "it was a different culture," as he told Peter Gammons a couple winters ago.

For those who felt Mr. Rodriguez deserved a punishment, this is it.

This is the Scarlet Letter. Mr. Rodriguez's admission was narrow but its impact is sweeping and severe. One of the game's great players is closing in on one of the game's most meaningful records, and the public can hardly contain its disenchantment.

Six hundred will come, and fans will surely cheer. We like seeing records broken; it's in our conquering nature. Then 700 will almost surely follow, and perhaps, Mr. Rodriguez will reach the clashing marks of Mr. Aaron and Mr. Bonds.

But the reaction won't be much different. Don't be sad for A-Rod. This apathy is modern baseball's curse—but also its redemption.