Sunday, May 20, 2007

For Someone who Always got "it"

Maybe he just doesn't get "it" anymore? I am of course talking about the great Roger Clemens. No doubt one of the top 3 pitchers to ever play the game of baseball, and no doubt the best pitcher baseball has seen in the modern era.

This is a guy who always understood the game. He always understood his place. He knew what it meant when he struck out 20 hitters in a single game... twice. He knew what it meant every time he won a Cy Young award. This is a guy that relished the limelight. He works out hard in the off-season so that he can step in front of fifty thousand people and not have a doubt in his mind what he can do out there.

Love him or hate him, this guy was a legend in Boston for the better part of ten years. Then of course he hit the infamous "twilight of his career" (according to Dan Duquette), and he moved on to Toronto; where he went on to resurrect his career by winning consecutive AL Cy Young awards. Then he moved onto the Yankees where he finally won his coveted World Series rings, along with another Cy. And then the next stop, which many believed might be his final stop, was in Houston, where he led the Astros to an NL pennant, and in the midst of all the chaos, he won his record seventh Cy Young.

For the last three seasons the Rocket made about $18 million per, pro-rated of course during the years in which he came back mid-season. He got a free Hummer H2 to drive around during his tenure there as well. So as this season began, and Roger never filed those official retirement papers, the question in the back of everyone's mind was "where will the Rocket land?"

Of course he'll stay in Houston. Why wouldn't he? He had grown comfortable there, it is home after all. His son is in the Astros farm system. He doesn't have to travel when he's not pitching. He gets a free car to drive around, as if he needs a free car. Make no mistake, Drayton McLane and the Houston organization was more than accommodating to the desires of an over the hill (if only in age) pitcher. Not to mention that the NL is as wide open as it has been in a long time. So a chance to go deep in the playoffs, for your hometown team, a team that owns the minor league rights to your son sounds pretty good, right? Well, what about...

Boston? Boston certainly had the money. But its funny, it seems to always come back to that word, that driving word in sports, money. Now I don't begrudge the players for making the exorbitant amounts of money that they make. Hell, I buy team hats, I own a t-shirt, I pay to go to games, and I help the television ratings out whenever I'm at home. So I can't complain about the money in the game when I, myself am part of the mass that feeds the beast. But it seems to me that there has to be a certain point that a player reaches in his career where it might actually not be about the money. Doesn't there? I don't know. Thats why I said it seems, but then again, I've unfortunately never had the tough task to choose which million dollar contract I'd like to sign.

But Clemens back in Boston? The hysteria, the history. Imagine, finish the storied career where it started. Showing fans first hand how wrong Duquette was way back. Getting #21 retired for eternity, never to be worn again by another Boston player (the Red Sox have certain criteria for retiring numbers, one of which is that you must finish your career in Boston, the lone exception being Carlton Fisk).

How about joining a team with a legitimate shot at the pennant. A team with a bullpen to close out six inning starts. All for the measly salary of a pro-rated $18 million. Sounds pretty good to me. Sounds like something out of Hollywood. Add to those 348 wins, move into the 1a ranking in all time strikeouts (1a because lets face it, 5,714 strikeouts will probably never be touched). Find out what it is like to be absolutely revered by a city. Revered in only a way that Bird or Jordan or Gretzky knows what it feels like.

But back to reality. Back to the world that is. Back to the money driven world of sports. Again, I don't mind the money, but on the day when Clemens announced he would return to the Yankees for a pro-rated salary of $28,000,022, I felt a twinge of disappointment. Its not that I would have rather the Sox shell out that king's ransom for the Rocket, in fact I'm rather glad that they didn't. I don't even mind that he's in New York, he's pitched there before, he's got friends on the team, and I'm sure its a great place to play.

No, I was disappointed for another reason. I was disappointed because I really truly thought this man got "it." There really isn't anything left for him to do in New York that he can't do anywhere else. He cannot single-handedly turn around a team at this point in his career. He will not go much deeper than the sixth inning in a large number of his starts. And I don't doubt that he still has the stuff to be a good pitcher. But Clemens committed a baseball sin. You can chase records like Bonds all you want. You can come out and apologize for "doing that stuff" like Jason Giambi and continue to play. You can even be a hired gun, one last run at the end of your career to chase that elusive title. But you cannot transcend the game. As great as Albert Pujols is, and as big as Magic and Montana were, they never thought they were bigger than the game. It seems at this point that the Rocket is coming back for the Rocket, and for no other reason. He's coming back for a payday, he's coming back to try to pad some stats, all while doing it for a team that doesn't seem to have a snowball's chance in hell of even making the playoffs.

Sometimes staying at home is the best idea. I can't wait to see what happens the first time Clemens is photographed playing golf when a teammate gets hurt in a day game, or when the New York press catches him sitting down for a porterhouse at Smith & Woll while "his team" gets swept in a double-header. I wonder if he's got an idea up his sleeve that required him to be in the media capital of the world while he pitches at age 45. Be careful what you wish for, because sometimes, you just might get it.

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