Is All Forgiven with Roger Clemens?

In case you’ve completely tuned out the Red Sox (who could blame you?) and missed this, they’re inducting probably their greatest Hall of Fame class ever today, with Pedro, Nomar and Roger Clemens.  That Pedro was and remains one of the greatest, most beloved and entertaining figures in the history of Boston sports goes without saying.  That Nomar is to this day a figure adored and appreciated by fans while despised and resented by the media is stating the obvious.

That brings me to Clemens.  You can make the case that he was one of the most controversial and divisive figures this town has ever seen.  Granted that was a long time ago and time is supposed to heal all wounds and all that.  But does it?  Does it always?  Is it possible for people like me who’ve spend the best 17 years of my life despising everything Rocket has stood for to all of a sudden embrace the guy just because the Sox have decided to clasp him to their bosom and pretend none of the bad stuff ever happened?

Let’s get one thing straight:  I find new and different ways every day to not give a shit that Clemens or any athlete uses steroids.  He did- you know it, I know it and he knows it – but that has nothing to do with why I’m still holding a grudge.  My beef with him was and continues to be that he never started using until he left Boston.  His last four seasons with the Sox he was a combined 40-39.  This from a guy who should’ve been in his prime.  You can (as he often did) blame that record on his shoddy bullpen.  But it wasn’t Heathcliff Slocum’s fault Clemens was throwing in the upper 80s in Boston and then the upper 90s once he hit Toronto.  But that’s just half of it.  As Bill Lee once said about Pete Rose, “He should be hung upside down from his Achilles Tendons on meat hooks.  But not for gambling; just for being an asshole.  Because my list of grievances against Clemens is long, but PEDs aren’t on it:

*He personified the old Red Sox “25 Players/25 Cabs” philosophy.  He showed up for every Spring Training whenever he damn well pleased, which forced his teammates to put up a “Golden Rule: He Who Has the Gold Makes the Rules” sign in his locker to make it look like they didn’t resent the hell out of him, when it was obvious they did.

*He completely showed up Butch Hobson in his first season managing, showing up late, then jogging around the track while Butch followed him like a puppy, without having the common decency to take his ear buds out.  It was a total dick move and wholly unnecessary.  But it was caught on camera which basically undermined Hobson’s career before it even began.

*He asked out of Game 6 of the World Series and claimed John McNamara pulled him against his will.

*In his post-Sox career, he always signed the biggest contract offered to him, but always acted like it wasn’t about the money.  Look, I’m as capitalist as they come.  I respect a man getting as much as he can. But don’t insult my intelligence by saying he went to Toronto to be closer to Texas.  Or signed with Houston to watch his son play.  Or to the Yankees because he respected Joe Torre.  Then back to Houston because he was so close with Drayton McLain.  Then back to New York to be with Andy Pettite, etc, etc.  He would’ve pitched for the Tokyo Yakult Swallows if they offered him more than any of the above, which again is fine.  Just don’t piss down my back and tell me you’re doing it because you have so much respect for George Steinbrenner.

*He bitched about how hard baseball travel is and how players have to carry their own luggage.

*And speaking of lying, the fact he had to keep up that fiction about “the legendary workout regimen” when everyone in his life was shooting up and admitted it.  His bromance Pettite.  His wife Debbie.  Jose Canseco.  Brian MacNamee.  If he’d just admitted he was sick of getting beaten by guys with half his talent because they were juicing so he decided to as well, no one would’ve cared.  Zero people.  But instead he’s spent his entire post-career life acting like a victim.

*He once threw a shattered bat at Mike Piazza and said it was because he “thought it was the ball.”

*I could go on, but I’ll end with this:

As much as I enjoy hanging on to a good, quality hatred, I’m not saying I’ll never be able to kiss and make up with Clemens.  But I am saying I’m not there yet.  Not even close.  @JerryThornton1