"I must have misremembered about that whole steroid thing..."

At this point, I'd say I felt sorry for Roger Clemens... except for the fact that any man as arrogant and off-putting as Clemens has been for the past 20 years deserves every bit of scorn directed his way. It's one thing to be branded a cheat; it's another thing entirely to be known as a cheat and a liar. And Roger Clemens is making a case to be the sports world's #1 representative of both.

While I agree that Brian McNamee is not exactly the poster boy for Truth, Justice and the American Way, he simply presents the more plausible case. With George Mitchell, the Federal Government, Andy Pettitte, Chuck Knoblauch, and the Nanny backing all or part of his assertions, McNamee makes the best case. Clemens? Apparently the only one to speak for him is that bastion of honor, Jose Canseco. I don’t know about you, but that’s an endorsement I could live without.

So while Clemens digs himself deeper and deeper into this hole, it's fair to think that he's now sunk lower than the original poster boy for steroid use in baseball, Barry Bonds. I'd make the case that Clemens is even worse than Bonds, since Bonds was still performing at an All-Star level when he supposedly started using. Clemens, though, was in the midst of a downhill slide. Who's to say when his career may have ended had he not started "supplementing" his workouts?

But as much as Clemens shares with Bonds, there's another notorious figure whose story parallels Clemens' even more eerily. It wasn't that long ago that another icon from the baseball world, confronted by a government report and mountains of evidence, chose to wage a never-ending campaign of denial:

Jim Gray: Pete, now let me ask you. It seems as though there is an opening, the American public is very forgiving. Are you willing to show contrition, admit that you bet on baseball and make some sort of apology to that effect?

Pete Rose: Not at all, Jim. I'm not going to admit to something that didn't happen. I know you're getting tired of hearing me say that. But I appreciate the ovation. I appreciate the American fans voting me on the All-Century Team. I'm just a small part of a big deal tonight.

JG: With the overwhelming evidence in that report, why not make that step...

PR: No. This is too much of a festive night to worry about that because I don't know what evidence you're talking about. I mean, show it to me...

JG: Pete, those who will hear this tonight will say you have been your own worst enemy and continue to be. How do you respond to that?

PR: In what way are you talking about?

JG: By not acknowledging what seems to be overwhelming evidence.

As we know, it took nearly 14 years but Rose eventually emerged from his cocoon of denial: first, to admit that he bet on baseball; then to admit that he'd bet on his own team, the Reds. Who doesn't foresee Clemens’ voyage along this same road? After today's hearings, only the most-blinded Clemens loyalists can't see past the angry bluster, empty rhetoric and ridiculous lies. The day will come when Clemens, like Rose, will be forced to admit what we already know.

You could have turned your sets off there...

We all know what happened, so I don't need to debase myself here by typing it out. Besides, I might just vomit on the keyboard. At this point, though, I'm not really sure what to do. I honestly never expected anything like this to happen so I have no back-up plans.

My first reaction was disbelief, so much so that I'm not even sure if it was real. But my next thought surprised me. Even for me, it came off as a tad melodramatic. Yet as I sit here writing, I don't see another alternative: I'm pretty sure I've watched my last NFL game.

What happened on Sunday night is the NFL equivalent of rain falling upwards, mice eating cats or the Earth orbiting the moon. There's no logic to explain how it played out. Not a single iota of sense to the end result. It's as if the NFL spun a big wheel and picked the winner at random.

So if a sport, on the whole, cannot be governed by logic, cannot ensure that over the course of time the reasonable outcome will occur, than how can I invest myself in it? I can't. I know what I know to be true, so that if the complete opposite comes to pass, then there's nothing left in it for me.

And that's the last time I'm going to comment on that. So give me fall Saturdays. Go Michigan. My TV won't be going on come Sunday.

Figures Lie and Liars Figure

The conventional wisdom is that you can manipulate statistics to bolster any argument. So the fact that Team Clemens claims their latest testimonial -- an endless accumulation of numbers, graphs and exposition -- explains away Clemens' remarkable longevity is no surprise. SI.com's Tom Verducci does a great job cutting through the clutter and coming to the conclusion that you can use 18,000 words and still have nothing to say.

But I think Verducci lets Clemens off the hook. In fact, using the very statistics that Verducci provides, one can argue the case against Clemens grows even stronger. Let's take a look at the numbers from Clemens' first season in Toronto, both before and after the time that Brian McNamee claims to have first injected Clemens with steroids and human growth hormone:

1998	GS	W-L	ERA	K/9	OPS
Before	13	6-6	3.27	9.18	.592
After	20	14-0	2.29	11.11	.561

Combine his slow start in Toronto with four sub-par seasons in Boston -- twice under .500, no more than 11 wins, twice with an ERA over 4 -- and this is the portrait of a pitcher approaching the downside of his career. Then, like flipping a switch, Clemens becomes virtually unbeatable. But instead of the obvious, Clemens' camp instead serves up this implausible explanation:

By the mid 1990's, he had mastered the split-finger fastball, and the combination of Clemens' experience, his overpowering fastball, and his improved split-finger fastball led to two consecutive Cy Young Awards in what the record shows to be the best pitching of his career. -- Clemens Report

Really? In the 14th year of his major league career, after four-plus years on the decline, Roger Clemens had the best seasons of his life because he picked up the splitter? Really? Did I mention that was his 14th season?

But let's assume for the moment that we'll consider this ridiculous assertion, and that Clemens resurgence was due to his craftiness on the mound, rather than a slavish devotion to performance-enhancing drugs. What, then, do we make of Brian McNamee and his claims? Are we expected to believe that McNamee was so prescient that he'd broken down Clemens' exploits himself? Otherwise, how is it that he provided dates and doses that corresponded nearly exactly with the ups and downs of Clemens' post-Boston career? And that he was able to provide that information on demand, under oath, with a possible Federal indictment hanging over his head?

Clemens himself noted how hard it is "to prove a negative". It becomes even harder when your angry denials, backed by little more than an indignant attitude, stand in direct opposition to common sense. But hey, you can't blame Pete Rose... er, I mean, Roger Clemens, for trying.

Political Football

Okay, so this is kind of a stretch, having very little to do with sports, but it still irked me. And anything irksome is ripe for the 'Crank.

Now that Rudy Giuliani is on his way out the presidential campaign, the race between the remaining Republican candidates, John McCain and Mitt Romney, is heating up. And as is the case with any political campaign, the meaningless, empty quotations are spilling forth, as well. Check out this gem from Romney in today's New York Times:

Appearing on television Wednesday morning, Mr. Romney expressed confidence that he could close the gap with Mr. McCain in a narrowed field. Speaking on CNN, Mr. Romney said “In a two-person race, with myself and Senator McCain, I like my chances.”

Wow, Mitt, way to go out on a limb. In a competition with one other guy, you think you can win. That's quite a grasp of the obvious you've got there.

Now if Missouri Valley State tells me "We've got a shot in the Tourney" then I'm thinking, "OK. A 64-team draw. That's confidence." But this is like the Giants saying they've got a shot to win the Super Bowl. Well, by virtue of the fact that they're playing in the Super Bowl, I'd give them a shot at winning. Certainly more so than say, the Packers, who aren't actually playing in the game.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Canadian Philosophical Question

If an NHL All-Star game falls in the forest but nobody watches it, does it make a sound?

Though I am not, nor have I ever claimed to be, an "NHL fanatic", I've seen my fair share of games. Sure, I more or less stopped watching after Messier left, Gretzky retired, and the Rangers franchise slid into an unwatchable funk. But over the past few years, the NHL has made the occasional blip on my radar screen.

So while I'm not NHL Fan #1, it was with some surprise that I learned last evening that the NHL was, in fact, holding their annual All-Star game. (Don't ask me where -- I never got that far.) It was about 8:00 when I clicked on SI.com and read the headline, "East Leads West 5-3". My first reaction was, "East who?" so I clicked on the link for the story.

Though I'm sure there were those who did know, the fact that a casual fan like me didn't know the game was this weekend speaks volumes about the problems the current NHL faces. Worse yet, was what happened next.

Eager to watch the third period of action in what was a close game, I turned on TV and tuned into NBC. I figured since NBC had partnered with the NHL on the New Year's Day game, they would be the logical outlet for the All-Star game. Nope. Okay, how about ABC? I recall they carried hockey at some point. Wrong again. What about FOX? Not since the glowing puck, apparently. No EPSN or ESPN2, and now I'm at a total loss. Buzz the program guide.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally located the game: on Versus, channel 146 on my cable system. And to sprinkle in a little more bad luck, it was smack dab in the middle of intermission, so instead of slap shots and glove saves, I was treated to the R&B stylings of Ne-Yo at center ice. (Because when you think hockey, you think Ne-Yo, don't yo'?) This, unfortunately, held zero interest for me so I turned the channel and never returned.

This whole situation perplexed me. How can a league so desperate for publicity, so desperate to recruit new fans to the game, leave the casual fan in the dark that an All-Star game was taking place? And at the same time compound the problem by relegating their most fan-friendly event to a second-tier outpost on the edge of space?

Yes, I know, the NHL has to practically pay to get its product on the air. So why not? NBC got great ratings (relatively speaking) for the Outdoor Classic on New Year's Day so the onus was on the NHL to make their case. The timing was perfect, with the NFL's off-weekend and continuing Writer's Strike rendering the broadcast landscape wide-open. Joe-Fan, looking for something to satiate his sporting appetite and bored with another Tiger runaway or a meaningless January NBA exercise, might stumble upon the most skilled players in the hockey world, plying their craft in an end-to-end, no-restrictions shoot-out, showcasing much of what the NHL has to offer in an easy-to-digest package. Instead, anyone lucky enough to find out about the game is reduced to a remote-controlled scavenger hunt.

Down the stretch, I'm sure I'll catch a few periods of Rangers' hockey as they make their push for the playoffs. And should they qualify, I'll probably tune in to see if they advance. But I just can't help but wonder how many other people like myself might be seeking out an NHL fix had they gotten a taste of what the NHL has to offer.

Defying the Odds... and Logic... and the Natural Order

There's an old saying that goes, "The cream always rises to the top." The theory being that over time, through agitation and tribulation, the best will set itself apart, be distilled by adversity, and ascend above all others. That although counted out or overlooked, in the end greatness will emerge and prevail. Picture the exact opposite and you have the 2007-08 Giants.

Whether through smoke and mirrors or the evil machinations of some meddlesome deity, the New York Giants have somehow stumbled their way into the Super Bowl. Don't ask me how or why: that a team so rarely tested in the regular season and that failed to beat even the most remotely competitive opponent, that came up short against each and every winning team it faced, and then barely survived battles against the league's weakest sisters, is now playing for a championship.

This blog is named "Sports Crank", and let me tell you, the crank is turned up 100% today. Not only has my otherwise unremarkable Monday morning been ruined, but for the next two weeks I'm going to have to shield myself from the unrelenting, unavoidable, mind-numbing hype machine that is the run up to the Super Bowl for a New York team. (Okay, for a Giants team, since the Jets haven't been to a Super Bowl since before it was the Super Bowl.) It's enough to make you want to move out of state. Or at the very least, curl up into a ball and hibernate until President's Day.

In the interest of full disclosure, let me state that I hate those f***ing bastards in blue. The asshole coach. The soulless rube QB. The miscreant tight end. The defensive line, the running backs, the wide receivers, the linebackers, the trainers, the locker room attendants, the announcers, those ugly uniforms and especially those obnoxious, delusional, fairyland-dwelling fans who kept thinking this team was a contender in spite of all the obvious reasons to believe otherwise.

I'm not going to go into why the Cowboys, a superior team, played like some Juco squad all afternoon (and still should have won the game), or how the Packers managed to squander not only a devastating home field advantage but any good will Brett Favre had earned in his latest farewell tour. (If I may digress: Brett, hang it up. You'll never have a better situation than you had on Sunday yet you played like it was 2006 again when everyone was begging for you to retire. It's that time again.) But seriously, who was calling those plays yesterday? Did anyone see Rich Kotite on the Green Bay sidelines? Is this all some awful conspiracy to cause me misery?

Were it not for the fact that my beloved Patriots are playing, too, I'd simply avoid the Super Bowl altogether. Perhaps if nothing else, the Giants' immortalization at the losing end of NFL history will ultimately ease the pain. Then again, nothing about this post-season has made sense yet. Remind me not to hold my breath.

Vindication!

You'd have to be pretty naive to be surprised by this, but it still qualifies as a stunner to see the extent of it in print:

[Roger] Clemens was singled out in eight pages [of the Mitchell Report], with much of the information on the seven-time Cy Young Award winner coming from former major league strength coach Brian McNamee.

"According to McNamee, from the time that McNamee injected Clemens with Winstrol through the end of the 1998 season, Clemens' performance showed remarkable improvement," the report said. "During this period of improved performance, Clemens told McNamee that the steroids 'had a pretty good effect' on him." -- SI.com

Um, wow! Sure, there were those of us who suspected all along that Roger’s "Rocket Fuel" was decidedly less benign than spinach. But who would have thought that Clemens was actually matching Bonds vial-for-vial? Oh, right... me! If I may quote myself:

We all know Barry Bonds is the poster boy for steroid abuse in baseball. Yet how is it that Roger Clemens consistently gets a free pass in the steroids debate? Has anyone noticed that he's a 45-year old power pitcher? That doesn’t send up any red flags?

I love how everyone dismisses Clemens as a user by saying "He's a workout warrior." HELLO! Who do they think are using all that stuff? Do they think players just inject steroids and become magically muscular overnight? Without the work, steroids won't do a damn thing. It’s these very “workout warriors” whom steroids benefit the most by aiding the body in rapidly repairing itself. -- Sports Crank, 9/25/07

Can we now put to rest all the “freak of nature” stories that have surrounded Clemens for the past however-many years? There is now a very plausible explanation for his “late career resurgence” and performance above-and-beyond his much younger peers. Certainly the preceding sentences could have easily been written about Bonds, but now baseball’s #1 pariah has some superstar company. And this won’t be the last time those two will be linked. Assuming neither plays baseball again – which after today looks like a pretty safe bet – in five years Clemens and Bonds will both appear for the first time on the same Hall of Fame ballot. Won’t that be a strange day for every baseball fan?