Columns

Romano: Clemens lives alone with the truth

By JOHN ROMANO, Times Columnist
Published December 28, 2007

Roger Clemens is picking his spot to stand in against media questions, choosing to go one-on-one with 60 Minutes and not a pack of reporters.
	[AP photo]

ADVERTISEMENT [AP photo (2006)] Strength coach Brian McNamee, right, claims he injected Roger Clemens with steroids while with the Blue Jays and Yankees.

If you are Roger Clemens, you know reality is pliable.

A lifetime of smoothing, shaping and protecting an image has taught you that much. Anyone can point out the truth, but getting people to look the other way is the real gift.

So when your name comes up in a steroid scandal, you work on managing the reality. Getting in front of television cameras to deny the story? That only ensures you're the lead on network television, and newspapers around the country.

Let the fury play out. Let your lawyers talk. You'll take a hit, but the world will not see you sweat.

If you are Roger Clemens, you know how to manipulate.

You're the guy who did what no one else had dared in a century of baseball. You made yourself a part-time player. You set yourself apart from the 24 other guys on the roster. And you got some of the greatest franchises in the history of the game to sit up and beg for this audacious honor. And then they paid you tens of millions of dollars.

Barry Bonds has a La-Z-Boy next to his locker, and he's called selfish. You don't even show up until the season is half-over, and you're a savior. Bonds doesn't take part in team workouts, and he's a prima donna. You skip road trips to stay home, and you're hailed as a tremendous family man.

Bonds hits 317 homers after turning 35, and the world is certain he is a cheater. You win 141 games after turning 35, and hardly anyone dares mention how improbable this feat seems.

So, yeah, you know how to manipulate.

That's why you will not dance to the media's tune on this steroid business. Reporters want a press conference, you give them a statement. They want a mea culpa, you give them a videotaped denial.

Your reputation has suffered, but you've managed to keep doubt on your side.

If you are Roger Clemens, you pick your spots.

That's something you've learned after nearly 5,000 innings on major league mounds. Throwing the hard stuff is not enough. You have to throw the right pitch at the right moment, and you have to locate it perfectly.

Standing in front of a ravenous bunch of reporters, each trying to coax an incriminating statement out of you, is not going to be the best forum for getting your version of reality across.

You have seen Mark McGwire squirm before a Congressional inquiry. You have seen Marion Jones get roasted on a podium. You have seen Rafael Palmeiro look like a fool, and you have seen Bonds playing the villain day after day on TV.

So you choose your first public appearance carefully. You say when. You say where. You say who. You decide to go on 60 Minutes, and who is going to argue with that?

We're talking the unforgiving Mike Wallace. We're talking a show that regularly wins Emmys for investigative journalism. We're talking about a television institution.

But we're also talking about a one-on-one interview situation that will lend an intimacy and - if all goes well - a chance for you to connect with millions of viewers. Fans who once believed in you and, deep down, still want to.

If you are Roger Clemens, you know how to tussle.

Fights are not meant to be pretty, they're meant to be won. So maybe you fight a little dirty. The majority of people will never notice, and the lasting impression is that you came out on top.

Think about the last political cycle. One presidential candidate had done everything in his power to avoid military service in a devastating war. Another candidate served in the jungles of Southeast Asia and won medals of valor. Yet the first candidate reinvents himself as the tough guy, and makes the war hero look like a sissy.

That's how you win a fight.

And so your lawyer goes on the offensive. He points at one erroneous newspaper report, and extrapolates complete vindication from it. He points to the steroid report, and suggests reporters are not digging enough at its flaws.

He has the audacity to claim investigators did not interview several logical people, which makes the report incomplete. And he speaks forcefully enough that he hopes no one notices the most logical person - his own client - declined to be interviewed by investigators.

If you are Roger Clemens, you play the odds.

There is no video or audio evidence. There is likely no paper trail. It is hard to believe a member of baseball's players union would break rank and contradict anything you have said.

So this comes down to your version of the truth versus someone else's. And, in this instance, that someone else has quite the checkered past.

You have had time to prepare. You have had weeks to anticipate questions, and formulate answers. You have slowed the race to judgment by staying out of sight, and now you have had time to catch up and turn it in your direction.

If you are Roger Clemens, you live alone with the truth.

John Romano can be reached at romano@sptimes.com

[Last modified December 27, 2007, 12:22:50]