Bully Clemens not talking; you surprised?
Mark Kriegel
FOXSports.com, Updated 1 hour ago
It should surprise absolutely no one that Roger Clemens won't be answering questions regarding performance-enhancing drugs.
"I'm not talking to y'all about it," he told reporters Monday. "We'll handle this our way."
Once again, he's looking for an edge. Roger Clemens isn't interested in a fair fight. Never was. For all his 354 wins, there was always a whiff of something fraudulent about him, as evidenced by his woeful record in elimination games. He was a bully on the mound. And like most bullies, he wanted to be feared, but needed to be protected.
For all its shortcomings, the Mitchell Report — five solid reporters, members of the much-maligned media, could have come up with a lot more for about $20 million less — seems proof enough of Clemens' true character.
While other ballplayers did their admitting or denying on their own, Clemens sent his lawyer, Rusty Hardin, into the fray. The lawyer emphasized that Clemens had never failed a drug test. This, of course, is the Marion Jones defense. What's more, the lawyer called the accusations of steroid use "slanderous." This was a big mistake, as Clemens will never sue for slander. The last thing a bully wants is to be called on his bluff.
For years, Barry Bonds has faced armies of inquisitors. To his credit, at least he wasn't two-faced, remaining as surly to the many as he was to the few. No one mounted a credible but-Barry's-really-a-nice-guy defense.
By contrast, Clemens' unnatural longevity as a power pitcher was advertised as proof of his virtue, his holy work ethic. Hence, the speech he was scheduled to deliver next month before the Texas High School Baseball Coaches Association: "My Vigorous Workout: How I Played So Long."
Now it's believed that his long life as a power pitcher owes much to his association with Brian McNamee, a former New York City cop. McNamee told Mitchell and his investigators that he injected Clemens — at the pitcher's request — four times with Winstrol during the '98 season. In 2000, after being traded to the Yankees, Clemens convinced his new employers to hire McNamee.
From the Mitchell Report: "During the later part of the regular season, McNamee injected Clemens in the buttocks four to six times with testosterone from a bottle labeled either Sustanon 250 or Deca-Durabolin. ... McNamee stated that during this same time period he also injected Clemens four to six times with human growth hormone. ... On each occasion, McNamee administered the injections at Clemens' apartment in New York City."
McNamee — who last summer cut a deal with the Feds compelling his testimony for Mitchel — is a bad guy. Required reading on this subject is Luke Cyphers' piece "Clubbies Gone Wild" in ESPN magazine last May. In October of 2001, Clemens' workout guru "was found naked in a hotel pool, having sex with a woman rendered nearly comatose by the date rape drug GHB. Had security not dialed 911, the woman could well have died." McNamee, found to have lied to police in his initial interview, was declared a suspect. And though the Yankees got rid of him after the case eventually fell apart, Clemens stood by his man, keeping him on his personal payroll. When asked about McNamee last spring, Clemens said: "I'll train with him anytime."
Now, suddenly, after the release of the Mitchell Report, the pitcher has his lawyer portraying McNamee — suspended once by the NYPD for reasons unknown — as "a troubled and unreliable witness who came up with names after being threatened with possible prison time."
You think? Actually, the two of them sound like an exceedingly dark indie version of a buddy flick, what with The Rocket dropping trou for the Bad Lieutenant. Then again, bullies will do anything to get that edge.
Consider the night of Oct. 22, 2000, the second game of the World Series at Yankee Stadium, Clemens vs. Mike Piazza, who always hit him hard. Earlier that season, Clemens had beaned him right in the helmet. Unable to beat Piazza in a fair fight, the bully tried to intimidate. Piazza was blessed to have left the ballpark that day with only a concussion.
Now, months later, they met again in the Series. It's worth noting that Joe Torre opted to have Clemens pitch at Yankee Stadium rather than Shea, a National League park where he would've had to assume the position in the batter's box. Again, bullies must be protected.
This time, Clemens shattered Piazza's bat. Piazza began running toward first as the ball went foul. Meanwhile, Clemens in a full fury, picked up a sharp shard of wood and flung it toward Piazza.
There was a moment of stunned silence, as 56,059 people tried to comprehend what they had just seen. Maybe it was 'roid rage. Or maybe, the juice had put a man's true nature on display, the inner bully of Roger Clemens.