I've always maintained that I could really give two shits as to who did what drugs in any sport. Amphetamines have been rampant in baseball for many, many decades (although some will maintain truthfully that they had something called a PRESCRIPTION for those things). And I also wouldn't be -- and wasn't -- surprised about any name that came up on that now infamous Mitchell List. (OK, I giggled and was a bit took back about seeing poor little Chuck Knoblauch's name on there, but doesn't this now make all the sense in the world about why he was always over-throwing the first baseman and nearly killed Keith Olbermann's old mother while she was sitting in the stands with one of his overthrows?)
Then Deadspin went through the million page pdf and posted the now classic 9-pages of what was in there regarding Roger Clemens. Titled "Roger Clemens Gets A Shot in The Ass", I started to read from page one, and couldn't stop. I had to print the entire 9-pages and have something entertaining to read on the shitter. What I had was the most entertaining thing I've read since I was handed the Grandmother's Restaurant Employee Handbook in 1992. The happiest I've been reading anything since the first time I read The Catcher in The Rye.
The Clemens piece has everything. Jose Canseco's book gets footnoted. Who the hell would have ever thought that would ever happen in ANY report? An article Peter Gammons was footnoted, the one where Gammons studied Clemens training past the age of forty, and naively stated, "I can't believe the energy this guy has." But it's just so in-depth as to what Clemens actually did.
Admittedly, I've always hated Roger Clemens with every drop of blood I have. I hated him in Boston. Thought him in Toronto was always weird, but somewhat admired at the time, as a friend of mine who I KNOW was an avid steroid user, would always point out how incredible of a pitcher he had rebuilt himself to be. And then going to the Yankees just proved Clemens was the devil to me. The day Clemens went to New York, all of the Yankee Haters got their groove back on. Oh sure, before Clemens donned pinstripes, even we Yankee Haters were somewhat pleased with the 1996 and 1998 teams because of Joe Torre, because Derek Jeter was this up-and-coming energy guy who you wanted to be the next Mickey Mantle. We were even OK with Paul O'Neill's intensity. And we loved David Wells because he pitched a perfect game hungover, and David Cone because he was a former Royal. Hell, at the time Royals fans weren't that upset with the Yankees because it seemed as if the Royals didn't even want to win.
Then Rocket and his "new" trainer and his needles came to the Bronx. All of a sudden Jeter's fist-pumping became annoying. Wells had been traded to the Blue Jays for Clemens himself. The Yankees went back to being the Hated Yankees, sure because they always won, but mainly because of Clemens. So reading these 9-pages is, in a way, like reading about your worst enemy getting gang raped by prison thugs.
I'm still OK that Phil Hiatt was involved with this mess. That poor chap needed all the edge he could get. But you have to wonder how many champagne bottles Brady Anderson popped yesterday when he repeatedly looked over that list and couldn't find his name anywhere. He had to be like a kid first hearing that school was closed, and then went to every radio, TV station and internet site just to see it over and over again.