Photos may exist that show Roger Clemens attended a 1998 party at the home of then-teammate Jose Canseco that was an issue at the Feb. 13 hearings before a congressional subcommittee, The New York Daily News reported.
Such a discovery could undermine Clemens’ sworn testimony that he did not attend the party as the congressional committee decides whether to turn baseball’s steroids issue over to the Justice Department.
The paper said the photo is owned by a man who attended the party when he was 11 years old and took photos of his baseball heroes, including Clemens. Richard Emery, a lawyer for Clemens accuser Brian McNamee, said he was aware of the new development.
There would be something deliciously ironic if ol’ cheatin’ Rog is finally undone by the worshipful actions of an 11 year old fan. He thought nothing of the message his actions would convey to the youth if his dirty deeds were ever exposed.
Like pretty much everyone else in the baseball world I watched the Andy Pettitte confessional, and was somewhat disappointed he didn’t answer the most pressing question, was there any possibility he “misremembered” Clemens admission of having used performance enhancing substances. Pettitte’s performance seemed sincere, but what does he have to fear on that account? If he tells the truth, nothing. Not that I doubt Pettitte; I happen to believe him. But his refusal to answer that question is aggravating.
Of course it is possible he “misremembered” or even misconstrued Clemens’ remarks. We’ve all done that, especially regarding events that happened several years ago. So why didn’t he just say: “Of course it is possible”? That isn’t an assertion that he did, or even likely, just stating the obvious. Instead we’re back to hiding behind lawyers.
Pettitte’s testimony wasn’t nearly as damning as it has been portrayed. The fact that, by that very testimony, Clemens denied telling Pettitte years later that Andy had misunderstood actually affirms Clemens case now. Don’t get me wrong, I think Clemens is guilty as sin. But I also believe there has been less than responsible logic attempting to prove what ultimately is probably unprovable. We all want to know. But unless Roger gets religion and decides to do a Pettitte, we are never really going to know.
Personally I’m sick and tired of these miserable wretches cluttering my thoughts. I could use with less miserables, and more baseball.
What a train wreck.
It was painfully obvious a Congressional hearing was not the forum to resolve the truth. It was not a courtroom. The obvious advocacy, especially for Clemens, by various members of Congress was as unseemly as Clemens politicking with them last week. The demonstration of a photo of Clemens at various stages of his career with the same size body was especially egregious, although nothing matched the congressman who wanted to know what uniform Clemens would be wearing in the HOF. I know it is called Human Growth Hormone, lady, but read up on the subject you are questioning about. Athletes use it mostly to recover and endure a long season, not “grow” muscle. That same idiot then lauded Clemens—shall I say it—Herculean workouts. Just for the uninitiated, it is the workout that develops the muscle, not the substance. The substance simply allows for more intense workouts, meaning—you guessed it—more muscle. Again, these people should educate themselves.
Clemens proclaimed he is guilty of nothing except being too nice. Well isn’t that sweet. To paraphrase Barack Obama, I’ll bet his greatest fault is helping little old ladies across the street. Time after time, Clemens interjected his pedigree. One would have thought he was talking to St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. Of course that was what it was all about: a PR campaign.
Ironically Waxman, who I suspect recognized this was going to be a complete waste of taxpayer money, was ready to pull the plug on the hearing. Clemens insisted on it. This was his soapbox, his chance to salvage his reputation, to change public opinion.
He failed. Miserably. And he may very well have bought a Go to Jail card in the process. I think the Greeks called it hubris. The closing scene, with Clemens getting gaveled by a Congressional Chairman after being interrupted by a protesting Rocket during the hearing’s closing statement, may very well be the final image of this whole sordid mess. Who does Roger think he is?
As bad as Clemens came off, I thought McNamee looked slightly worse. Not because I think he is lying. In fact, I think he is telling the truth. But let’s face it, he did sell people who treated him pretty well down the river, with the excuse he was only doing what they wanted him to do. I kept thinking of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. He may not be a “drug dealer”, as some congressmen insisted, but he’s not much better.
And speaking of congressmen, I thought they came across worst of all. Did you notice how easily they fell for the Canseco party canard? They must have spent half an hour on that red herring. Worse, the hearing devolved into a political version of The Jerry Springer Show. At the end of the day, what was determined about The Mitchell Report? That was the purpose, wasn’t it?
The fact that no determination could be made may be a godsend. Here and there I heard doubts about the Mitchell Report and the master it was intended to serve. Those who railed against McNamee must, by inference, discredit the Mitchell Report. And once The Mitchell Report falls, then we are back to square one, for the Mitchell Report was supposed to answer questions about the abuse of PEDs in baseball. Now there are more questions than there were before, not only about the past, but about the future.
Sooner or later these congressional clowns are going to wake up to the obvious question: how could baseball possibly have a handle on the PED problem without a test for HGH? HGH dominates the conversation, not steroids. And, more importantly, could baseball possibly be trusted to police itself when it is demonstrable that it refuses to do so.
Ugh. I need a shower.
“One of the things the committee is going to hear on Wednesday is about this party that is supposed to have started this whole thing,” Hardin said. “Roger wasn’t even at this party.”
The report goes on to say that Canseco told Mitchell’s staff “he had numerous conversations with Clemens about the benefits of Deca-Durabolin and Winstrol and how to ‘cycle’ and ‘stack’ steroids.”
Hardin is performing a clever lawyer trick here. Note the value he assigns to the party: the whole thing started at the party. Ergo, no party, no “thing”. The second quoted statement notes the fact that Canseco and Clemens did have the conversations about steroids, which was the point of McNamee’s contention, i.e., that it was a conversation between Canseco and Clemens that “started” the “whole thing”. Perhaps his memory as to which party, or, for that matter, conversation it was is faulty. But that hardly impugns his credibility, anymore than if it turns out McNamee injected Clemens ten times, not a dozen.
What is significant is you don’t hear Clemens denying he ever had conversations with Canseco about the virtue of, and more importantly, how to use, steroids. If Roger eschewed steroids as much as he claims, you would imagine he would have terminated that conversation before it ever got started: “Ah, shut up, Hosey, you’ve got an elbow growing out of your head. Go pull a tractor with your teeth.”
It just didn’t happen at that party. You know, the one where Jose ended up dancing with a blue lampshade on his head. Or was it green? I can’t remember, I was pretty drunk at the time. ****, I might not even have been there for all I know.
I’m not quite sure what to make of the newest chapters in the Roger Clemens saga. This thing has gotten so crazy I’m to the point I’m beginning to empathize with those nuts that follow the wild escapades of Britney Spears.
Am I supposed to believe that a man innocently kept bio-waste? Was he planning on blackmailing Clemens? Or was he, as he says, keeping it just in case. Just in case what? In either case it diminishes the argument that McNamee was just a fool who simply told the truth when caught in a legal trap.
This reminds me of the question why Monica Lewinsky kept that stained dress. The scene is eerily reminiscent of that period while we waited for test results that would unmask the perjurer. Clemens knows whether McNamee has the goods. What must be going through his mind now if—and I stress if—he is guilty?
For McNamee is either one of the most insane men in history, or history itself is insane. He is now proclaiming that he not only injected Clemens with PEDs, he injected Clemens’ wife with HGH. This is not unbelievable, mind you. The Fountain of Youth from a syringe is not limited to males, and it is not inconceivable that if her husband were abusing she would get into the act, anymore than it is inconceivable that the most powerful man would risk his reputation and his country’s security pleasuring himself on an intern in his “employ”.
Wonder if Debbie Clemens looks good in blue…
Something that seems to have escaped notice in regards to the much talked about phone conversation between Roger Clemens and Brian McNamee is that in foolishly recording and playing the conversation Clemens managed to slam the door on his only real chance at clearing his name. It is highly unlikely Clemens can raise enough doubts as to the reliability of McNamee’s testimony. His only real hope was a recantation by McNamee. Ironically, by playing a tape in which a heartbroken McNamee repeats over and over again “What do you want me to do, Roger? I will go to jail. What do you want me to do?”, any recantation at this point would be highly suspect. It would be hard not to believe a recantation to be motivated by McNamee’s almost perverse loyalty to Clemens, as heard on the audiotape.
Instead of throwing fastballs at McNamee, Clemens should consider throwing them at his PR advisors. First he seriously damaged his case by delaying a response. Now he has eliminated his only chance to clear his name by playing a conversation which convinced nobody of anything. Except, of course, that Clemens is an idiot and a bully.
But we already knew that.
It appears the entire sporting world is eagerly looking forward to the weekend, not because of the first round of the NFL playoffs, but in anticipation of the burning at the stake of one Roger Clemens. Grand Inquisitor emeritus Mike Wallace is expected to torch Clemens with questions forged from ****. We’re going to get to watch Roger the Dodger’s face as the fire gets hotter, watch the beads of sweat form, the fear in the eyes, the grotesque twitching of the wretched being tortured for a confession, all in High Definition.
On the sports boards I’ve been monitoring the virulence directed at Clemens, who, for the record, I despised and suspected of being a PED abuser long before the Mitchell Report, as anyone who reads this blog well knows. But the boorish curses (“I HATE YOU YOU CHEATER GO BACK TO **** I HOPE YOU DIE…”) from the sporting public remind me of the primates in the stands who launch spittle, epithets and the occasional beer at the players—or the dirty crowds who gathered eagerly to watch the garroting and burning alive of a fellow soul for heresy during the Dark Ages.
There is no Dark Side of the Moon, really. Matter of fact, it’s all dark.
— Michael Norton