A Vote For Bonds And Clemens Gets You Coal In Your Stocking

This holiday season there is once again an effort to appeal to our generosity and good will and charity.

In this year’s version of “It’s OK because every did it” we have the “early release” of a scant few Baseball Hall of Fame voters. And if a scant few was all it took to make the hall, then Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens would be selected.

Just a couple of things to remember: The Mitchell report reads, ” In addition to declining an interview in connection with this investigation, Bonds declined to respond to written questions about his alleged use of performance enhancing substances

From Tom Verducci:

“There are only seven players in baseball history to hit .293 or better with 564 home runs. The others: two steroid users (Bonds and Alex Rodriguez) and five all-time greats (Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Albert Pujols, Frank Robinson and Babe Ruth).”

From Reuters:

“The wife of former pitching ace Roger Clemens testified in his perjury trial on Friday that she received a shot of human growth hormone from her husband’s ex-trainer, who says he also injected the performance-enhancing drug into Clemens.”

And why is that important? Because despite their greatness with or without help, they robbed others of what was rightfully theirs. Baseball is a game of numbers and baseball fields are littered with fraudulent stats posted by both of these “men.”

From Verducci: “… imagine that Bonds never went to BALCO. Let’s imagine that Bonds’ numbers declined after age 33 the same way they did for “Clean” McGriff—essentially a normal aging pattern. That means, for example, that Bonds’ batting average after age 33 goes down two points (not up by 26 points, as it did), his home-run rate slows (not goes up 20%) and he is done at age 40 (not 42).

Stories of Bonds’ wildly varying/jerk-mode behavior, include an interview on ESPN and the Giants’ clubhouse where he created a me-and-then-everybody-else culture. Clemens’ behavior was typically more violent. He threw a bat at Mike Piazza. That was the least dangerous thing he did to the Mets’ catcher.

From a 2001 New York Times story by Pat Jordan:

“In ’91, he was charged with assaulting a police officer who was trying to arrest his brother, Gary, in Bayou Mama’s Swamp Bar in Houston. (He was later acquitted.) In Boston one year, he fired hamburger rolls at a reporter, who had written something he didn’t like, in the clubhouse. Once, he threatened an umpire over a bad call, warning him, ”I’m going to find out where you live and come after you this winter.” Sometimes he turns an umpire’s bad call to his advantage. ”The home-plate umpire made a questionable call, and that did it,” he once said. ”It got me all heated up, and everything started to click. My velocity came back.” Clemens is constantly ”heated up,” hot, his energy and emotions always about to boil over.”

Competitors? Cheaters? Self-entitled boors? Yes, yes and yes.

Worthy of the hall?

No.

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