Knick-knacks

By Danny Lanzetta

It would be tempting to believe that Roger Clemens did not use steroids, that his indignant reaction to former trainer Brian McNamee’s accusations is not merely posturing. It would be nice to believe that Clemens didn’t achieve a good portion of his 354 career wins while hopped up on human growth hormone. It would be wonderful to think that this man, commonly referred to as one of the greatest starting pitchers in the history of Major League Baseball, accomplished everything on the basis of a near-maniacal work ethic that often left younger players who tried to keep up gasping for air.

But even though Roger Clemens thinks he deserves the benefit of the doubt – in his “60 Minutes” interview with Mike Wallace, he said, “Twenty-four, 25 years, Mike. You’d think I’d get an inch of respect. An inch.” – I’m not buying it. Problem is, those 24 or 25 years have revealed Clemens to be an egomaniacal jerk who only looks out for himself and will do anything for a competitive advantage. The Rocket is on very shaky ground if he thinks his past is reason to assume his innocence.

Here is a brief overview of Clemens’ misdeeds:

• He and former manager John McNamara still disagree about why he was removed from Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, a game (and series) eventually won by the Mets. McNamara says Clemens lifted himself from the game because of a blister. Clemens vehemently denies it. Sound familiar?

• In the 1990 playoffs against the Oakland A’s, Clemens, the Red Sox’s ace, got himself ejected from the final game of an A’s sweep for arguing with an umpire. Way to put the team first, Roger.

• 2000 was an especially honorable year for Roger. He beaned Mike Piazza in the head during the season, knocking Piazza momentarily unconscious. He knocked down A-Rod in the playoffs and was called a “headhunter” by then-Mariners manager Lou Piniella. Then, in perhaps his most famously ignominious moment, he threw a sawed-off bat in the direction of Piazza in the World Series, their first matchup since the beaning. Clemens later said he was “fielding” the broken bat, mistaking it for the baseball. Can anyone say ‘roid rage?

• Just for good measure, Roger made a “racially insensitive” remark when asked about the devotion of Japanese and South Korean fans during the World Baseball Classic: “None of the dry cleaners were open, they were all at the game, Japan and Korea.”

• Clemens has also been known to complain about having to carry his own luggage through airports and has been given a number of “special considerations” in his obscene half-season contracts since he first retired back in 2003.

The point here is that Clemens is used to getting his way and has acted impudently in a number of different situations throughout his illustrious “24 or 25” year career. He acts like a man who, because of his mammoth talent, is entitled to break rules or ignore general customs of social propriety. So why should we now look back on his career and offer him the “respect” of assuming he is innocent?

It is true that our culture now seems to assume “guilty until proven innocent.” We have become bloodthirsty consumers, so deluged by the misdeeds of our heroes that the only surprise is when they act appropriately. We now seem to revel in the misdeeds of our athletes and entertainers and derive pleasure from our voyeurism the way we used to from the (admittedly false) notion that our idols were squeaky-clean.

And yet, don’t lawyers use character references to make their cases in court for or against the accused? Roger obviously thinks that is an appropriate mode of defense. He sees his career as a spotless span during which he should have earned enough good will for his denial of steroid use to now be believed. But he seems blissfully ignorant of what his record indicates. And as some of the players from the Mitchell Report have begun to corroborate its findings (Andy Pettitte and Brian Roberts have admitted limited use), it seems highly unlikely that Clemens – about whom the report is most emphatic – will come away as the one done wrong.

Clemens was asked during his interview with Mike Wallace if he would take a lie detector test. The Rocket Man’s response? “Yeah. I don’t know if they’re good or bad.” What does that mean? Seems pretty lukewarm to me. Lie detector test or not though, Clemens has come out swinging. He has filed a lawsuit against McNamee for defamation of character and even held a press conference last Monday in which he played a secretly recorded conversation between he and his former trainer. Problem is, McNamee never said he lied during the 17-minute call. And why would McNamee tell the truth about Pettitte and not about Clemens? Clemens, who says his situation is separate from his good friend’s – Pettitte was also a client of McNamee’s – hasn’t yet offered a plausible answer to this question.

At this point, Clemens has no choice but to take the aggressive tactic. Because if he does nothing, it implies he’s guilty. And there is no hard evidence. The Clemens/McNamee saga is a classic case of he said/he said. Roger might have even changed some minds with his impassioned defense of himself. But I’m not swayed. This is a man backed into a corner, scratching and clawing to protect his precious legacy; anything he says should be taken with a grain of salt.

It’s not a coincidence that all four of Roger Clemens’ children’s names begin with the letter K. What could be viewed as a cute nod to his favorite way of retiring hitters now looks like another example of the type of ego that probably made Roger Clemens take performance–enhancing dugs in the first place and what could be driving him to lie about it now.