Nobody nobody cares.  Nobody cares baby.  You know I’ve had my share.  It just ain’t fair.  It just ain’t fair.  -Aretha Franklin.

I don’t like this one.  I don’t like this one one bit.  You have to understand.  I hate this summamabitch.  I hate him more than all the other summamabitches.  Isiah too.  But that’s it.  Those two.  And that’s it.  Just this ashtray.  And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that’s all I need.  And this remote control.  The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that’s all I need.  And these matches.  The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball.  And this lamp.  That’s all I need.  I did not need this.  I did not need to hear that the judge in the Roger Clemens federal perjury trial abruptly declared a mistrial.  I feel like Arthur Kirkland.  I feel like screaming:  “You’re out of order!  You’re out of order!  The whole trial is out of order!  They’re out of order!  That man, that sick, crazy, depraved man, raped and beat that woman there, and he’d like to do it again!  He told me so!  It’s just a show!  It’s a show!  It’s “Let’s Make A Deal”!  “Let’s Make A Deal”!  Hey Frank, you wanna “Make A Deal”?  I got an insane judge who likes to beat the shit out of women!  Whaddya wanna gimme Frank, 3 weeks probation?          

Clemens didn’t even get three weeks probation.  It makes me sick.  Yes I hate Roger but you should know that I hate him because I used to love him.  I used to love her, but I had to kill her.  Loved him more than all the rest.  Loved him more than Loni Anderson’s chest.  Loved him because he was the best.  He was the nastiest pitcher I ever saw.  He was the Boston Red Sox.  He was a machine.  A lean mean pitching machine.  Cy Young.  MVP.  Twenty Ks against the Mariners.  Twenty Ks against the Tigers.  Unbeatable.  Untouchable.  Indomitable.  Invincible.

But then, suddenly, he became beatable.  Suddenly, he became touchable.  Suddenly, he became domitable.  Suddenly, he became vincible.  Suddenly Susan.  We could have forgiven that.  Like we forgave him for getting owned by Dave Stewart.  Like we forgave him for begging out of the ’86 Series.  Like we forgave him for not wanting to carry his own luggage.  He was one of us.  But he acted like he just didn’t care.  Showed up fat.  Showed up lazy.  Showed up all Shaquish.  We can dissect the numbers.  I don’t care.  He wasn’t the same Roger.  And worst of all, he was acting entitled.  Then he left.  He left mad.  Hopping mad.  All of a sudden, he cares again.  Twilight my ass!  He goes on the Juice.  Cy Young.  Cy Young.  Cy Young.  Cy Young.

Roger Clemens was steadfast.  Roger Clemens was adament. He denied being injected with Winstrol by Brian McNamee approximately four times in the buttocks over a several-week period with needles that the Rocket provided.  He denied McNamee injected him in the buttocks four to six times with testosterone from a bottle labeled either Sustanon 250 or Deca-Durabolin that McNamee had obtained from Kirk Radomski.  He denied being injected by McNamee four to six times with human growth hormone received from Radomski.

I thought he was guilty a long time ago.  I tought it when Roger went all Ampex 2000 and broke out the McNamee tapes.  Remember?  Rememeber Roger and two lawyers sat in a room trying to set up unsuspecting Brian McNamee.  A whining Brian McNamee.  A sniveling Brian McNamee.  A blubbering Brian McNamee.  Clemens thought he sensed weakness.  Thought he could throw one high and tight.  Thought McNamee would go down looking.  Thought he said are you all right Spider.  He thought wrong.

McNamee was apologizing.  Not for lying.  No.  McNamee was apologizing for telling the truth.  For telling the truth and falling off the gravy train.  The gravy taste dogs can’t wait to finish.  Falling off the gravy train with a very sick child.  McNamee:  “I will go to jail, I will do whatever you want.”  I will lie for you.  I will go to jail for you.  Greg Anderson style.  I will do all that for you if you pay for my sick child.  McNamee:  “All I did was what I thought was right.  I never thought it was right, but I thought I had no choice.”

It seemed both courts of law and the court of public opinion were the ones with no choice.  No choice but to sentence Roger Clemens.  Sentence him as a cheater.  Sentence him as a liar.  Sentence him as a bully.  It seemed after all these years that Dan Duquette was right.  It seemed like the Rocket was in the twilight of his career.  Now he gets to get to ride off into that twilight unscathed and I just feel numb.

Peace out Roger. Six two and even!

What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans?  I’ll tell you what’s crack-a-lacking.  Baseball’s crack-a-lacking.  Ahhhh baseball.  Like my main man Terrence Mann always says, “America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers.  It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again.  But baseball has marked the time.”  It certainly has.  As kids we marked the time by keeping score at the ball park.  Nowadays, that type of thing is done for us.  It’s all ballbearings now.  Statistician Seymour Siwoff of the Elias Sports Bureau once said,   “Anybody with a pencil could be a statistician back then (19th Century).”  Now?  Not so much.  Now, statistics are the lifeblood of the game.  No other sport studies, dissects and analyzes their numbers as vigilantly as baseball.  So who am I to go against the grain?  Nobody!  That’s who.  So let’s take a peak at some interesting 1st half numbers, shall we?  Sure we shall!         

The Steroid Effect

In Washington, D.C., the best pitcher of his era is on trial.  In San Francisco, the best hitter of that said same era awaits the next stage of his own courtroom drama.  The era in question is of course the Steroid Era.  An Era that is now cemented in baseball lore alongside the Dead Ball Era.  The Steroid Era probably began around 1992.  That marked the beginning of hard evidence. That was when when Jose Canseco, Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmeiro, Ivan Rodriguez, Juan Gonzalez, and Lenny Dykstra were all implicated.  I thnk it’s safe to say, that now, the era has come to a close.

• In 2011, teams have averaged 8.4 runs per game.  In 2010 it was 8.9, 9.2 in 2009, 9.1 in 2008, 9.4 in 2007 and 9.8 in 2006.  2011 is the lowest since 1992.
• In 2011, teams have averaged 1.8 home runs per game.  In 2010 it was 1.9, 2.1 in 2009, 2.0 in 2008 and 2007 and 2.2 in 2006.  2011 is the lowest since 1993.
• In 2011, teams have a batting average of .253.  In 2010 it was .259, .261 in 2009 and 2008, .264 in 2007 and .269 in 2006.  2011 is the lowest since 1972.

Justin Verlander’s Fantasticness

Sing it with me bitches.  Follow the bouncing ball.  Bless you boys, Detroit is gonna party.  Bless you boys, Tigers on fire.  Bless you boys, get me to the bleachers.  Bless you boys, come on, cheer on!  I’m cheering on.  I’m cheering on Justin Verlander.  I’m cheering on one of the greatest pitching runs I’ve ever seen.  Right now, Veralnder is in the midst of pitching the best baseball of his career.  A gorilla in the midst.  Heck, he’s in the midst of pitching the best baseball of anybody’s career.  Don’t believe me?  Check this out.  We all know about the No-no and close no-nos, but did you know-know that since the 2010 All-Star Game, Justin Verlander is 19-8?  Did you know-know that since the 2010 All-Star Game, Justin Verlander has a 2.46 ERA.  And did you know-know that since the 2010 All-Star Game, Justin Verlander threw 256 punchados.   Well, like Bell Biv DeVoe, now you know.  You should also know the last major-league pitcher to have that many wins with an ERA under 2.50 and at least 250 strikeouts from break to break was Randy Johnson for Arizona from 2001 to 2002. You know what else Randy Johnson did in 2002?  Huh?  Do ya?  In 2002, Randy Johnson won the NL pitching Triple Crown en route to a Cy Young Award.  That’s what Randy Johnson done did.  I’m just sayin.’  I’m also just sayin’ Verlander has a real shot at this year’s AL Triple Crown and Cy Young Award.  I’m also sayin’ that even though my boy Adrian Gonzalez is considered the first half MVP, Verlander has been more important and valuable to his team. So there!

Jose Bautista In A League of His Own

Chicks dig the long ball as do we here at JQP Productions.  And, like my main man Jackie Wilson always sings, “That is why, that is why, we love Jose Bautista so.”  Well he sang something like that.  I’m singing this:  Since the 2010 All-Star Game, Joey Bats has hit 61 bombs with a .312 batting average, 127 runs scored and 133 RBIs.  Yikes!  For those of you keeping score at home, only three other players in major-league history have gone break-to-break hitting .300 or higher with at least 60 homers, 125 RBIs and 125 runs scored.  Only Albert Belle from 1995 to 1996 (.306, 63 HR, 149 RBI, 135 R), Ken Griffey, Jr. from 1997 to 1998 (.300, 61 HR, 142 RBI, 134 R), Sammy Sosa from 2001 to 2002 (.325, 63 HR, 135 RBI, 137 R).  You get your name mentioned with Belle, Griffey Jr. and Sosa, you’re doing something.  You’re doing something pretty gosh darned special.

This Just In:  Phillies Still Good

As mentioned previously, scoring is down again across baseball.  You know what that means boys and girls?  Sure you do.  That means pitching rules the day.  Nobody, and I mean nobody, has better pitching than the Philadelphia Phillies.  Don’t believe me?  Just ask Brian McCann.  McCann on what makes the Phillies the best team in baseball:  “You’re walking into a buzz saw.”  Said buzz saw allowed the Fightins’ to go 107-59 (.645) from the 2010 to 2011 All-Star Game.  Big deal you say?  Who cares you say?  I say the other top five are nowheres close.  I say the Giants went 97-69 to put them at .584.  The Yankees?  92-70 for .568.  Red Sox (93-71; .567), and Braves (93-73; .560).  Wait!  There’s more!  The Phillies have a legitimate shot at becoming the first pitching staff in 22 years to post an ERA lower than 3.00.  The 1989 Los Angeles Dodgers pitched their way to a 2.95 mark.  But make no mistakes, this Phillies team is far far better than that Dodgers team.  It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.  World F’n Champions!

Peace out homies. Six two and even!

Peace out Barry.   Six two and even!

In retrospect, this backstage encounter might have actually been more interesting, and lasted longer, than if Canseco had actually fought.  Check this for visual evidence

I get knocked down, but I get up again.  You’re never going to keep me down!  -Chumbawumba

Public Service Announcement:  No, we’re not talking about tee-shirts.  We’re not like Mr. Hooper.  We’re not talking about treasure boating or day sailing.   No we’re talking about the real wife beaters.  Today we bid adieu to a real wife beater.  Today we bid adieu to Bobby Cox.   I’ve heard people say, “Bobby Cox did it the right way.”  If by the right way you mean getting arrested by police at his home, jailed overnight and being charged with simple battery after punching his wife and pulling her hair, then ya, sure.  Pulling her hair?  C’mon you sissy, knock it off.  After the jump, we’ll look at other members of the All Wife Beating team.         

Jason Kidd

At 6’4″, from the University of California, Jason Kidd. This NBA superstar belted his beautiful wife during an argument at the dinner table. The two were eating with their gargantuan headed son. Kidd then alledgedly took a french-fry from Junior big head’s plate. The wife did not like this one bit and said so. Kidd, in turn, spat the alledged fry into her face. Another assist for Kidd. As she turned away, Jason punched the lovely lady in the face for the triple double. Yikes! Joumana said, “There’s just a bad history here.” Ya think? She also said, “I told him this would be the last time, and he popped me right in the mouth.” That’ll teach her. Ms. Kidd later stated, “What happened the other night was good… because it’s brought us a lot closer together.” Nothing like a good old fashioned beating to rekindle the old sparks.

Wil Cordero

Number 25, playing first base, from Mayaguez, Puerto Rico, Wil “the Thrill” Cordero- After getting plastered with his teamates following a double-header loss at Fenway Park, Cordero came home stumblin’ bumblin’ drunk and attacked his wife Ana.  First, he slapped her real good like, when that wasn’t enough, Cordero thought it would be wise to smash her in the head with a telephone, leaving her nose all bloodied up. And if that wasn’t enough, he threatened to kill her. What is wrong with people? Dan Duquette used to love to call Cordero a “professional hitter.” Maybe Duquette knew what he was talking about. Cordero was later released by the Red Sox, but not before getting booed relentlessly by Sox fans whenever he came to bat.

Lex Luger

At 6’4″, weighing in at 265 lbs, hailing from Buffalo, New York, formerly know as the Narcissist, formerly known as the Total Package, Ex USFL Memphis Showboat & Tampa Bay Bandit. Ex- CFL Montreal Alouette. Ex-NFL Green Bay Packer. NWA/WCW Heavyweight Champion. WCW World Champion. NWA/WCW Tag Team Champion. Ranked #2 in the WWF. Wrestling phenom Lex Luger. The first time the police visited Luger, he was arrested for beating the crap out of his live in girlfriend, the Lovely Elizabeth. You remember her, Macho Man’s girl. Now this is where it gets kind of funky. Two weeks later, Lex was arrested by Georgia cops after they found steroids in his house. Why were the cops at his abode, you ask? They were there investigating the death of Miss Elizabeth. Hmm, dead girlfriend, all hepped up on the juice, just got busted 2 weeks prior for body slamming her around. I’m no Columbo, but c’mon.

Side Note- Luger was booked to win the WWF World championship at Wrestlemania X. However, he got bombed out of his mind just before WrestleMania, and told anyone who would listen.  Poor Lex was never again given any run for the WWF title.

Michael Pittman

At running-back, 6’0, 230 lbs, out of The Fresno State University, New Orleans’ own, Michael Pittman. Pittman is not not your run of the mill wife beater, oh no. He’s a serial coward. He was mad, so he took his Hummer and smashed into his wife’s car. Not only was his wife in the car, but so was their 2-year-old bundle of joy, and baby sitter. No first time offender, Pittman was already on probation for two previous girl stomping escapades. He was sentenced to a yearlong batterers treatment program. How was that program? Helpful? And, if that weren’t enough, Melissa, his wife, told police, “There were 30 to 40 prior domestic violence situations that were never reported to the police.” Goodness. 30 to 40? I’m not one to judge, but that seems a bit excessive.

Barry Bonds

What All-Star team would be complete without All-World Barry Bonds. After a game, one afternoon, Mrs. Bonds wanted to hang out with some friends. Mr. Nice Guy told her that she could not leave the house “until the children were fed their dinner.” How can you have your pudding, if you haven’t fed the children their dinner?  Pink Floyd style.  She fed the the little cherubs and went out.  She didnt get home till real late.  Like 11:30 pm.  How does he put up with that stuff?  Anyway, she gets home and starts looking for her birth control pills.  Barry’s not having it.  He throws her against the car and grabs her around the neck.  Again, he strangles her, and throws her down the stairs. Not to bet deterred, Mrs Bonds, came back to get her pills.  At that point, did she need them that bad?  It doesn’t seem like anything was gonna happen any time soon anyway.  Barry really showed her who’s boss this time though, smashing her to the ground and kicking her around a couple a times.  I really hate this guy, and he wonders why “people are out to get him.” Jerk.

Dishonorable Mentions

• Pedro Astacio- Once the ace of the Colorado Rockies pitching staff, pleaded guilty to third-degree assault for punching his wife, Ana, in the face. Good work.
• Bobby Chouinard – Arizona Diamondbacks middle reliever.  The 27-year-old pitcher terrorized his wife, Erica, choking her, slapping her, and finally pointing a loaded handgun at her head.
• Jose Canseco- Rammed his first wife’s car with his own, then five years later was back in court after hitting his second wife in the face. Little roid rage?
• Rae Carruth- Carolina Panthers- Murdered his pregnant girlfriend and then hid in the trunk of his car.
• Steve “Mustafa” Muhammad – Colts- Spared a murder rap when a coroner determined that his pregnant wife, Nichole, died as a result of injuries sustained in a November car crash, not the beating he delivered several days earlier.
• Riddick Bowe – Bowe dragged his wife across the floor, leaving her with cuts on her knees and elbows, following an altercation. The former Heavyweight Champeen was arrested and charged with third-degree assault.
• Armando Benitez- SF Giants- Benitez was charged with domestic battery for his actions during a beating he gave to his former girlfriend Stacy O’Neill.
• Tonya Harding- Threw a hubcap at her boyfriend, and proceeded to punch him repeatedly in the face. This is my all-time favorite.
• Allen Iverson- Threw his wife, Tawanna, out the front door of their home and then went hunting her down with a gun.
• Anthony Carter- Minnesota Vikings- Carter punched his wife in the face and threw her to the ground a bunch of times. He also pointed a .45-caliber handgun at her head and wouldn’t let her leave their house or call for help. She said he finally let her out two hours after the beat down to walk the dog.
• John Daly- Hurled his wife against a wall, pulled her hair, and trashed the house. Why do these guys always pull hair, I don’t get it.
• Sugar Ray Leonard- Smacked his wife around with his fists and threw her about the house “on more than one occasion.” He threw lamps and broke mirrors. Ray Leonard denied none of this. At a press conference, he admitted to punching his wife senseless.
• Chuck Knoblauch-  According to a criminal complaint, Knoblauch’s wife told police he hit her in the face and choked her at their Houston home.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

Deny, you’re such a liar. You won’t know the truth if it bit you in the eye.  Deny, you’re such a liar.  You’re selling your no-no all the time.  -The Clash

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  See what happens?  Roger Clemens was steadfast.  Roger Clemens was adament. He denied being injected with Winstrol by Brian McNamee approximately four times in the buttocks over a several-week period with needles that the Rocket provided.  He denied McNamee injected him in the buttocks four to six times with testosterone from a bottle labeled either Sustanon 250 or Deca-Durabolin that McNamee had obtained from Kirk Radomski.  He denied being injected by McNamee four to six times with human growth hormone received from Radomski. 

He denied being injected by McNamee with Sustanon or Deca-Durabolin on four to five occasions at the Rocket’s apartment.  He denied all of it.  He said he was merely injected with Lidocaine and B-12.  And now, this.  And now, the Department of Justice is about to indict former major league pitching star Roger Clemens for lying to Congress.  And now the Rocket sinks deeper.  And now, the Rocket is further up the creek without a paddle. 

I knew it a long time ago.  I knew it when Roger went all Ampex 2000 and broke out the McNamee tapes.  Remember?  Rememeber Roger and two lawyers sat in a room trying to set up unsuspecting Brian McNamee.  A whining Brian McNamee.  A sniveling Brian McNamee.  A blubbering Brian McNamee.  Clemens thought he sensed weakness.  Thought he could throw one high and tight.  Thought McNamee would go down looking.  Thought he said are you all right Spider.  He thought wrong.

McNamee was apologizing.  Not for lying.  No.  McNamee was apologizing for telling the truth.  For telling the truth and falling off the gravy train.  The gravy taste dogs can’t wait to finish.  Falling off the gravy train with a very sick child.  McNamee:  “I will go to jail, I will do whatever you want.”  I will lie for you.  I will go to jail for you.  Greg Anderson style.  I will do all that for you if you pay for my sick child.  McNamee:  “All I did was what I thought was right.  I never thought it was right, but I thought I had no choice.” 

Now, both courts of law and the court of public opinion are the ones with no choice.  No choice but to sentence Roger Clemens.  Sentence him as a cheater.  Sentence him as a liar.  Sentence him as a bully.  So after all these years it looks like Dan Duquette was right.  It looks like the Rocket was in the twilight of his career.  He just needed a little boost.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Oh baby, I’m a star!  Might not know it now baby, but I are, I’m a star!  I don’t want to stop ’till I reach the top.  Sing it!  -Prince

Public Service Announcement:  Everybodys’s jibbering about Ubaldo Jimminez.  Everybody’s jabbering about Stephen Strasburg.  Jibbering and jabbering.  Blibbering and blabbering.  What about this guy?  What about Bob Adam Wainwright?  Last night, Adam Wainwright hurled seven shutout innings to lead the Cardinals to a 6-1 victory over the Reds.  That may not seem like such a big deal to you, but know this:  Wainwright has now registered 17 wins this season.  Wainwright has now registered a 1.99 ERA this season.  All through 25 starts.  Pretty good, right?  Damn skippy it’s good.  Since 1970, only five other pitchers posted at least 17 wins and an ERA below 2.00 through 25 starts in a season.  Only Vida Blue 1971 (19 wins; 1.37 ERA), Gaylord Perry 1972 (17 wins; 1.70 ERA), Ron Guidry1978  (17 wins; 1.79 ERA), Dwight Gooden 1985 (18 wins; 1.64 ERA) and Roger Clemens in 1997 (18 wins; 1.66 ERA).         

Like my main Jake LaMotta always says, “Joey, that meant something.  You mention Tommy, you mention Salvy, you mentioned you.  You included you with them.  You could have said anybody, but you said you and them.”  I did say you and them.  It does means something.  When you do something that five of the greatest pitchers who ever played this great game of ours done did, it most certainly means something.  Something special.

Vida Blue  1971

You can Murderers Row me.  You can can Big Red Machine me.  But for my money, the greatest baseball team ever assembled were the the Swingin’ A’s of the 1970′s.  The best pitcher on that team was one Mr. Vida Blue. 

Quick trivia question.  Who was the last switch hitter in th AL to win an MVP?  That’s right.  Vida Blue. 

Blue was a power pitcher.  A tower of power pitcher.  A big strapping lefty who pounded the strike zone.  He pounded the strike in 1971.  Pounded the strike for a Cy Young and MVP in 1971.  In 1971, at his youthful best, Vida Blue was the most scintillating athlete in the world.  Mesmerizing, tantalizing, captivating, he was devastating.  Blue finished the season 24-8, with a 1.82 ERA, eight shutouts and 24 complete games. He was the youngest MVP winner in the 20th century.  You’re my boy, Blue!

Gaylord Perry  1972

You may know Gaylord Perry as King of the Spitball.  All hail the King!  You may know him for this story:  In 1963, manager Alvin Dark joked, “They’ll put a man on the moon before he hits a home run.”  Then, on July 20, 1969, just an hour after the Apollo 11 spacecraft carrying Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon, Perry hit the first home run of his career.  That’s the stuff legends are made. 

So is this.  Before the 1972 season, the San Francisco Giants traded the then 32-year-old Perry to the Cleveland Indians.  All Perry did was go on a 24–16 season.  All Perry did was record a 1.92 ERA in 1972.  All Perry did was  win his first Cy Young award in 1972.  The only  Cy Young winner for Cleveland until CC Sabathia.  That’s all Gaylord Perry done did.

Ron Guidry  1978

Unfortunately for me, a then long suffering Red Sox fan, I watched this season up close.  Up close and personal.  A little too personal, for you knwo, I know, and Bucky Bleepin’ Dent knows, it was Ron Guidry toeing the rubber that fateful day back in 1978.

Ron Guidry’s 1978 season was one for the ages.  One for the sages.  All the rages.  Not many were more impressive before it and none have been more impressive since. 

He won thirteen straight games before finally losing his first game in July.  July!  For his eleventh win, he struck out 11 California Angels.  By season’s end, Ron Guidry’s record was an astounding 25-3. His .893 winning percentage remains the highest ever turned in by a twenty game winner.  His ERA was a miniscule 1.74, a figure not posted by a southpaw since the glory days of Sandy Koufax.  Perhaps most impressive is that during the 1978 season Guidry’s opponents managed only an anemic .193 batting average.  They didn’t call him Louisiana Lightining for nothin’.

Dwight Gooden  1985

Before the drugs, before the DUIs, before the assaults, before the guns to his head, before all that stuff there, Dwight Gooden was the best pitcher in baseball.  1985 was the best season of his career. 

In 1985, Doc led the Majors with 24 wins.  In 1985, Doc led the majors with 268 strikeouts.  He led the majors with a 1.53 ERA.  You know what that spells boys and girls?  That’s right.  That spells  pitching’s Triple Crown.  Even in the eleven games when Gooden didn’t earn a win, he was still dominant. 

Ponder this, Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?   I think so, Brain, but this time, you put the trousers on the chimp.  Ponder this:  In his four losses that season, Gooden allowed a meager 26 hits and a paltry 5 walks in 28 innings, with 28 strikeouts and a 2.89 ERA.  Yowza!  If this kid stayed clean, we’d be talking about him like we talk about Bob Gibson or Sandy Koufax.  Oh, what could have been.

Roger Clemens  1997

Know this:  I hate Roger Clemens.  But know this too.  I hate him because I used to love him.  I used to love her, but I had to kill her.  Loved him more than all the rest.  Loved him more than Loni Anderson’s chest.  Loved him because he was the best.  He was the nastiest pitcher I ever saw.  He was the Boston Red Sox. 

When Roger left Boston, he was fat.  When Roger left Boston, he was lazy.  He was in the twilight of his career.  That’s why 1997 was so disheartening.  That season, Clemens was simply incredible.  

That season, he pitched 264 innings, which tied for first in the American League with teammate Pat Hentgen.  His ERA+ was a ridiculous 226.  He gave up only 9 home runs that season which equated to 0.2 HR/9 innings.  When all was said and done, Clemens was worth 14.9 wins above the replacement player, the highest single season number he ever accumulated during his illustrious career.  When all was said and done, he won another Cy Young Award.

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

I’ve seen the needle and the damage done.  A little part of it in everyone.  But every junkie’s like a settin’ sun.  Ooh, ooh, the damage done.  -Neil Young

Public Service Announcement:   Finally.  Finally Alexander Emmanuel Rodriguez hit his 600th career homerun.  Like my main Derrick Coleman always says, “Woopty damn do!”  Finally, it’s over.  It’s over.  It’s all over!  Johnny Havlicek is being mobbed by the fans.  It’s all over!  Johnny Havlicek stole the ball!  That’s right sports fans, Alex Rodriguez stole another milestone.  Like Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa and Barry Bonds before him, A-Rod stole history.  There was a time  when no numbers were more historic, more poetic, or more vibrant than baseball’s numbers.  Baseball used to be a sport where statistical comparisons of players from different eras linked one generation of fans to the next.  Our superstar’s  pursuit of records used to mean something.  Used to mean something special.  You’re so fuckin’ special.  I wish I was special.  But I’m a creep.  I’m a weirdo  What the hell am I doin’ here?            

From the time Jose Canseco’s won his Rookie of the Year award in 1986, through the last full season before the 1994 strike, and on to the full fledged Juiced Era of 1994–2004, baseball’s hallowed numbers have lost there true significance.  In Field of Dreams, Terrance Mann says, ”America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers.  It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again.  But baseball has marked the time.”  It marked the time with numbers.

It marked time with big numbers.  Important numbers.  Pat Conroy once said, “Baseball fans love numbers.  They love to swirl them around their mouths like Bordeaux wine.”  Swirling around numbers like 56.  Numbers like 2,632.  Numbers like .406.  Like 511, 130 and 5,714.  And numbers like 61.

Yes, I said 61.  That meant something. You mention Tommy, you mention Salvy, you mentioned you. You included you with them. You could have said anybody, but you said you and them. Yes I did. I know that number is now nothing but a footnote, but that’s my point.  Roger Maris’ 61 homeruns in a season stood the test of time.   It stood proud for 38 years.  Then, from 1998-2001, that once proud number was disgraced.  It was shattered.  What a mess this town’s in tatters.  I’ve been shattered.  My brain’s been battered, splattered all over Manhattan.  Shattered by six different men in three different season in four years.  It is a travesty.  It’s a travesty of a mockery of a sham of a mockery of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham.

Know this: The all-time hits leader won’t be in the Hall of Fame. The all-time home run leader won’t be in the Hall of Fame. The man who broke Roger Maris’ single-season record won’t be in the Hall. The man who was once the winningest right-handed pitcher of the live-ball era won’t be in the Hall. The man with the most 60-homer seasons in baseball history won’t be in the Hall. Their numbers mean nothing now.

Baseball’s heritage and tradition is rich and deep.  The numbers should matter.  But the steroid era changed all that.  We no longer have a context in which to compare our heroes to our father’s heroes to our grandfather’s heroes.  Yes Virginia, the bases are still 90 feet apart, the mound is still 60 feet, 6 inches from home plate, and in most ways is much the same as it was 80-90 years ago.  But the numbers don’t mean what they used to.  And that’s a shame.  The cheaters cheated us all and I don’t know how it can be reconciled.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Theres a new dance thats going around.  When the hits start flying you gotta get down.  The the the the the the horses, the the horses are on the track.  -Big Audio Dynamite

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  You may know Tom House as the answer to a trivia question.  The guy who caught Hank Aaron’s legendary home run in the bullpen.  You may also know him as the guy, who in 1974, pitched 102 2/3 innings, all in relief, with a 1.93 ERA and a 0.98 WHIP.  That’s you.  I know him as one of the guys who first spoke candidly about steroid use in baseball.  House said performance-enhancing drugs were widespread in baseball in the 1960s and 1970s.  House said, he and several teammates used amphetamines, human growth hormone and whatever steroid they could find in order to keep up with the competition.  House said, “If someone says Auto Immune, you’re fired!”  Sorry.  Wrong House.        

The other House, Tom House, said, “I pretty much popped everything cold turkey.  We were doing steroids they wouldn’t give to horses.  That was the ’60s, when nobody knew.  The good thing is, we know now.  There’s a lot more research and understanding.”  Maybe so, but that didn’t stop Steven LeBron.

By now you all know Indians minor league catcher Steven Lebron was caught using the the steroid Boldenone metabolite.  For those of you who did not know this, Boldenone is a steroid used on, that’s right, you gueesed it, horses.  Lebron was suspended for 50 games for his indiscretion, plenty of time for grazing, swatting flies with his tail and siring young Phillies and the like.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

The best things in life are free, but you can keep ‘em for the birds and bees.  Now gimme money.  That’s what I want.  -Beatles

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Just a quick one.  A run and stick one.  A treat or trick one.  When Mo Vaughn left the Boston Red Sox to sign the highest contract in the game with the Angels, Sports Radio WEEI in Boston ran a soundclip adnauseum of the Hit Dog saying, “It’s not about the money.”  That soundclip has always stayed with me.  It’s always stayed with me because it’s always about the money.  Always.  Mark McGwire took steroids for the money.  Yes, he took them to improve his health.  Yes, he took them to improve his power numbers.  But both of those things improved his bank account.  Now he comes clean.  He comes clean because he needs a job.  He comes clean because he needs the money.  That’s it.  He can cry.  He can wish he played in a different era.  He can call the widow Maris.  It doesn’t change a thing.  It’s about the money.

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!