Clemens is undermining his legacy

Sporting News, The, June 24, 2002 by Ken Rosenthal

The sad part is, everyone should be celebrating Roger Clemens. Marveling that he is nearly 40 and still on top. Counting down his march to 300 victories and 4,000 strikeouts. Making the case for him as the greatest pitcher in major league history.

It's all there, a Hall of Fame career like none other. But rather than Clemens vs. Greg Maddux or Clemens vs. Walter Johnson, last week's hot-button debate was Clemens vs. Shawn Estes. And for that, Clemens has only himself to blame.

No one can fault him for pitching inside; in an age of inflated offense, more pitchers should do the same. But too often, Clemens crosses the line, throwing pitches that endanger hitters. That's what makes rival fans and opposing players nuts. That's what prevents him from getting his due.

Little will change now that the Mets have settled their score with Clemens, missing him with their long-awaited retaliatory strike last Saturday but humbling him in an 8-0 victory. Clemens is Clemens, a punk when pitching for the opponent, a warrior when he's on your side.

Even for the unbiased, Clemens evokes mixed emotions. He is unapologetic, making excuses for even his most outrageous acts, like his Tysonesque fling of a broken bat toward Mike Piazza in Game 2 of the 2000 World Series. He is unaccountable, except in those rare cases when he bats in interleague games played under National League rules.

Intimidation is part of Clemens' game; he gets hitters off-balance before throwing his first pitch. Randy Johnson isn't as menacing. Pedro Martinez no longer is as threatening. Clemens follows his own code, and hitters brace for the inevitable. "Hit a home run, take a hard swing, he's going up and in," the Diamondbacks' Luis Gonzalez says. "Everyone knows it."

Clemens' supporters portray him as a throwback, the heir to a brushback tradition advanced by Bob Gibson, Don Drysdale and Nolan Ryan. But the game is different now. Hitters are more sensitive to pitches that jeopardize their careers--and they should be, considering the money at stake.

The great debate with Clemens is whether he actually intends to hurt opponents or merely misses now and then with his 95 mph fastball. Either way, he's reckless. And when he delivers on his promise to "introduce" himself to a hitter such as Barry Bonds, his mystique grows, but his reputation suffers.

"It's unfortunate once you get a label," Yankees manager Joe Torre says. "Gibson supposedly threw at you all the time. Drysdale supposedly threw at you all the time. It never really overshadowed their ability. It's getting to that point with Roger."

Clemens blames the messenger, saying the post-Bonds uproar and pre-Mets hysteria were "media-driven." Torre says of the Piazza incident, "I don't think it's ever going to be over because the tape still lives." And, yes, Clemens' remarks about Bonds were less a threat than an extension of an anecdote about their collegiate rivalry.

Still, this is Clemens' 19th season. He often struggles to express himself clearly, but by now he should understand how the media work and that his words might be held against him. If he is uncomfortable in the media crucible, he should have left New York instead of signing an extension with the Yankees.

Clemens alone is responsible for throwing the pitch that gave Piazza a concussion two years ago and for wigging out on the World Series stage. By now, his reputation precedes him, but he also benefits from his stature. The Devil Rays' Joe Kennedy was suspended seven games for a pitch that he threw past the head of Blue Jays rookie Ken Huckaby. Clemens didn't even receive a warning for tossing Piazza's broken bat, though he later was fined $50,000.

In September 1998, while pitching for the Blue Jays, Clemens hit the Yankees' Scott Brosius in the back. Torre was ejected for protesting the umpires' refusal to issue a warning. "It was so blatant that Roger threw at Brosius," Torre said then, back before he was Clemens' biggest defender. "Roger Clemens gets away with things that get other people thrown out of games."

Clemens' plunking Bonds didn't qualify; Bonds hangs so far over the plate, the pitch practically was a strike. But thanks to Clemens' blurting out his intentions, the incident received more attention than it deserved. "Roger has to deal with Roger," Bonds told the Contra Costa Times. "He's got to look at himself in the mirror."

Well, Bonds is mistaken if he thinks Clemens is haunted by a guilty conscience. When Clemens looks into the mirror, he sees a pitcher who has won a record six Cy Young Awards. A pitcher who started the week needing 172 strikeouts to become the third member of the 4,000-strikeout club and 12 victories to become perhaps the sport's last 300-game winner. A pitcher who erased the only flaw on his resume with a series of brilliant postseason performances for the Yankees.

To Clemens, the end justifies the means. He is the Ty Cobb of his time, despised by many for his competitive excesses but assured of a special place in history. "Greg Maddux, as great a pitcher as he is, has never been the equal of Roger Clemens," baseball historian Bill James writes in The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract. "... There is actually a very good argument that (Clemens) is the greatest pitcher who ever lived."