Joel Sherman

Joel Sherman

MLB

Jay Z doesn’t turn Robinson Cano into an icon

Jay Z and Robinson Cano walk into a bar.

The bartender says to a customer, “You know that guy just might reach 3,000 hits.”

The customer says, “No doubt, but who the hell is that with Jay Z?”

There is no osmosis here. Jay Z can pal around with Cano. He can give him gaudy watches for his birthday. He can attend meetings with teams and paint a picture of Cano as a cross between power hitter and Austin Powers — international man of mystery.

But that just doesn’t elevate Cano from an All-Star to a star for all.

If a team buys Cano, they get a terrific player, one on a Hall-of-Fame trajectory. In 2013-14 major league dollars maybe that is worth $310 million or $250 million or fill in your own blank at a time when offense is reeling. Cano is as brilliant a hitter as you will find this side of Miguel Cabrera — plus a top-notch defender and, to date, as durable a player as is currently active.

However, please spare us the sales pitch Cano adds much beyond that. Jay Z and Beyonce are a power couple. Jay Z and Robinson Cano are a global icon and a guy who most folks outside of New York could not identify. And Cano’s biggest problem, actually, is inside New York.

Because he had his chance last year to prove he is a franchise within The Franchise and, well, that just didn’t work out.

The galaxy of stars — notably Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez — disappeared around Cano. The Yankees were his show. And you know what? The show didn’t sell. Ratings on YES dropped 33 percent. Attendance fell by more than 262,000. Of course, this was hardly Cano’s fault. But he did not have the charisma or star power to even slow down what already were trends going the wrong way, much less reverse them.

Though he is homegrown, even the Yanks know they cannot sell him as the heir to Jeter. He is liked, admired, but not loved. Cano plays, having appeared in the second-most games in the majors over the last seven years and, by far, the most of any middle-of-the-diamond player. But perhaps what preserves him, his style of not busting to first on every routine grounder or hurling his body on defense, turns off a good many of the paying customers. They expect their stars to set the example for an entire clubhouse, especially if his contract is about to resemble a gross national product.

And, let’s face it, Cano simply does not have that “It” factor. Love him or hate him, A-Rod demands attention. The Yanks curse the day they gave him that 10-year, $275 million contract, but when they did it they knew Rodriguez — at least in the regular season — could win MVPs, carry a team, sell tickets and move folks to turn on the TV.

Even this year, when Cano was the unquestioned star of the squad, the Yanks did not draw much interest unless Jeter or A-Rod were returning or Mariano Rivera and Andy Pettitte were departing. Cano is a superb player. He works hard on his craft. He supports his teammates. But he is no leader. No spokesman. No Q-rating darling. You don’t build marketing strategies around him. You can’t imagine him standing in the middle of the diamond to speak for a whole team, the way, say, Jeter did when the Yanks left the old Stadium or when George Steinbrenner passed away.

Could that change? Sure. Did anyone watch the early hosting work of Jimmy Kimmel and imagine him becoming an entertainment industry powerhouse?

But those are rarities. Jay Z offers some glamour by association, but that is limited. I can’t, for example, imagine a single fan thinking Cano is more interesting — worth buying a ticket over — because of who his agent is. And, by the way, I would suspect that as many teams, Yankees included — are more worried about the association than they are pleased. Jay Z is a wild card as a sports agent. No one has any idea what he will prioritize in his clients’ careers.

Is Cano so fixated on being a star off the field that his on-field work suffers? Believe me, the Mets have had worries on this issue with Matt Harvey. Steinbrenner had a mammoth annoyance with his players taking his money and then being — in his view — distracted by the chase for more. You might remember Steinbrenner actually feuded briefly with Jeter whether the shortstop’s off-field endeavors were hurting his commitment before they made peace with a memorable Visa commercial.

Cano is 31, thickly built. That already engenders fear among teams thinking about tying him up long-term. So they don’t want to wonder also whether his focus is diverted. And it is hard not to notice Cano has become more obsessed in just the last year in extending his brand beyond playing second, batting third. His bold-name attempts have been rather overt, whether his arm around LeBron James or being feted for his birthday in Belgium by his pal/agent.

But try as he might, Cano still — as of yet — does not move many needles. He is an elite player. Period. The fame of his agent is not transferable.