Sunday's Dugout concerned the possibility of Roger Clemenswriting a book. Well, The Dugout is going to further explore this possibility. If Clemens does decide to put a book together, whether it concerns Brian McNamee or not, what will it look like? How will it read?
Your Dugout is after the jump. Enjoy your intelligence while it lasts, because this one will make you stupid.
Apparently inspired by the runaway success of Jose Canseco's Juiced and the runaway existence of Selena Roberts' A-Rod, Roger Clemens is thinking about slapping his artisan hands against a typewriter and pounding out a book. He wants to write about his relationship with Brian McNamee, but as Matt Snyder asks, how on Earth can he fill a book with that story? Snyder estimates that the book, if written, will be 15 pages long. I'm guessing that it will stretch for a full 200 pages, but only if it's a flipbook depicting Clemens throwing a pie in McNamee's face.
Roger Clemens goes to great lengths when trying to clear his own name. He'll ruin friendships, sell out family members or allegedly lie under oath. The only thing that seemingly matters to him is that his major league career remains untarnished -- which, honestly, isn't even possible anymore -- regardless of the consequences.
Thus, it should come as no surprise that Rocket is thinking about writing a book. The book would simply be his side of the story regarding the entire back-and-forth spat between him and his former trainer, Brian McNamee.
On behalf of David Feherty, I'd like to apologize for the following column. It again takes shots at House Mis-Speaker Nancy Pelosi, not to mention her fellow victims of CIA subterfuge, Roger Clemens, Tim Floyd and Mine That Bird.
Who knew the CIA was plotting to overthrow the Preakness? You will after reading the latest installment of Week in Review.
I'm a baseball writer, not the Pope. I've got a Hall of Fame vote, not the key to heaven. Manny Ramirez is a baseball player, not the President.
As such, I don't think I've got a right to expect much in the way of morality. I don't think Ramirez needs to be held to as high a standard as my son's kindergarten teacher.
In the days since we learned that Ramirez violated baseball's drug policy, most likely by using steroids, most of the media has rushed on a herd of high horses to condemn him.
You really do need a scorecard to keep up with the falling stars. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of trying to remember who's on first and who's on Winstrol.
You're never going to get rid of the dirty people. The only way to clean up the game is to get rid of the rules that turn people into dirtbags.
Let's just get this out of the way right now. I don't like Jose Canseco. I don't respect how he went about trying to bring down baseball in some sort of personal vendetta/money-making scheme. He might try to sell us on the fact that he just wanted baseball clean, but I don't believe those were his original motives. He needed money and he was angry with baseball for allegedly black-balling him.
We can call Canseco any number of names -- rat, snitch, crybaby, cheater -- but one thing he's not is a liar. With the announcement that Manny Ramirez has been suspended 50 games for a drug violation, Canseco has been vindicated for what seems like the hundredth time.
In the book, American Icon, Roger Clemens is portrayed as a fallen idol whose obsessive drive to be the best pitcher in baseball led him to rely on steroids and human growth hormone, choices that entangled him in a web of lies and eventually exposed him as a narcissistic cheat and, possibly, a criminal. It is a fascinating, exhaustively researched exposé of baseball's corrosive drug culture and the damage it did to Clemens, the people around him and, especially, to the game.
In the book, A-Rod, Alex Rodriguez is portrayed as a flawed superstar whose relentless drive to be the best player in baseball led him to experiment with steroids from an early age, a decision that would highlight both his vanity and insecurities. It is a revealing, salacious peek inside the bizarre, flimsy bubble in which Rodriguez lives.
From the Windup is Matt Snyder's extended look at some aspect of America's pastime each Thursday.
Last Sunday, Alfonso Soriano was hit in the head by a pitch off the hand of Cardinals starter Todd Wellemeyer. Later in the game, Cubs starting pitcher Rich Harden hit Albert Pujols in the middle of the back. It was a fastball, and it was on the first pitch of the at-bat. There was no one on base, and the Cubs had a big lead. Translation: Pujols was hit by Harden in retaliation for Soriano's beaning.
Monday, Ryan Braun was apparently dotted on purpose by Jeff Karstens of the Pirates, but the Brewers didn't get a chance to retaliate, because the umpiring crew offered an immediate warning to both benches.
It isn't any surprise that since Brett Favre announced he'd be done with football (umm, the fourth time), the quarterback situation with the Packers would be tumultuous.
Nobody thought it would get to this. Even with Aaron Rodgers doing whatever he can in Green Bay to win people over, rumors are flying around that the Packers have worked out Duke basketball player Greg Paulus. Yes, that was "Duke basketball player" you just read.
Sunday's Dugout concerned the possibility of Roger Clemens writing a book. Well, The Dugout is going to further explore this possibility. If Clemens does decide to put a book together, whether it concerns Brian McNamee or not, what will it look like? How will it read?
Apparently inspired by the runaway success of Jose Canseco's Juiced and the runaway existence of Selena Roberts' A-Rod, Roger Clemens is thinking about slapping his artisan hands against a typewriter and pounding out a book. He wants to write about his relationship with Brian McNamee, but as Matt Snyder asks, how on Earth can he fill a book with that story? Snyder estimates that the book, if written, will be 15 pages long. I'm guessing that it will stretch for a full 200 pages, but only if it's a flipbook depicting Clemens throwing a pie in McNamee's face.
Roger Clemens goes to great lengths when trying to clear his own name. He'll ruin friendships, sell out family members or allegedly lie under oath. The only thing that seemingly matters to him is that his major league career remains untarnished -- which, honestly, isn't even possible anymore -- regardless of the consequences. 
I'm a baseball writer, not the Pope. I've got a Hall of Fame vote, not the key to heaven. Manny Ramirez is a baseball player, not the President. 
Let's just get this out of the way right now. I don't like Jose Canseco. I don't respect how he went about trying to bring down baseball in some sort of personal vendetta/money-making scheme. He might try to sell us on the fact that he just wanted baseball clean, but I don't believe those were his original motives. He needed money and he was angry with baseball for allegedly black-balling him. 
From the Windup is Matt Snyder's extended look at some aspect of America's pastime each Thursday.
It isn't any surprise that since Brett Favre announced he'd be done with football (umm, the fourth time), the quarterback situation with the Packers would be tumultuous.
