Metro

The old ‘bawl’ game

(william farrington)

He killed a woman and dodged even a day in jail. But ex-Yankee-turned-drunken-driver Jim Leyritz still blames his victim.

“My life was dragged though the mud because I was a Yankee. I got tried because I’m an athlete! There was a good chance I was innocent!” Leyritz, 46, railed to me yesterday during an extraordinary series of run-off-at-the mouth telephone interviews, spurred by a column in which I called him a “degenerate.”

I was kind.

Leyritz was enraged at an arresting officer and investigator, seething about the cops, “I’m gonna make them lose their jobs.”

But he saved his most pointed barbs for his victim — a waitress and mother who died as she headed home from work in Florida at 3 a.m. three years ago, her Mitsubishi Montero struck by Leyritz’s Ford Expedition as he left his birthday bacchanalia.

“I knew the girl,” he revealed. “She was a dancer at one of the nightclubs.”

So was Fredia Veitch, 30, a stripper? I asked.

“I don’t like to use the word,” he said, chuckling. “She’s a party girl.”

“There was no reason for her to be in the intersection at 50 miles an hour, with a .18 blood-alcohol level, her husband bombarding her with text messages. Probably what happened is she got distracted.”

He wanted my sympathy. But prosecutors alleged at trial that Leyritz ran a light after downing the equivalent of 11 to 12 shots of alcohol. Still, they couldn’t prove the light was red, and Leyritz refused a Breathalyzer test at the scene of the crash.

His blood-alcohol level, three hours later, stood at .14. That suggested it could have been as high as .19 — far over the .08 legal driving limit — when he got behind the wheel.

Originally charged with manslaughter, Leyritz was convicted by a jury of misdemeanor driving under the influence, and a judge sentenced him to probation.

Leyritz, who admitted only that he “had a drink and a shot before getting behind the wheel,” insists he wasn’t drunk.

“At the time of the accident, the alcohol had not gone into my system yet,” he said.

In a final phone call, Leyritz blubbered so hard, I almost felt sorry for him.

“Once I hung up with you, I got really scared. I f – – – ed up,” he said. “I feel like a heel. I got so angry. That family has been through enough.”

Then, the excuses.

“It was an accident. A onetime accident,” he cried. “It could happen to you! You could lose three years of your life. I’m a good person!”

He hasn’t learned a thing.

andrea.peyser@nypost.com