If I had a nickel for every time I confused CPR with non-consensual sex!

I already suspected there was no God when I woke up a few days ago with a slight hangover and was greeted by news stories suggesting a bleeding abscess on Roger Clemens' ass. (Have you ever unexpectedly seen the results for a Google Image Search on "abscess"? No? NOT RECOMMENDED). And now there's this. Noooo!

A world with abscessed-Clemens-ass imagery and a hobbled Endy Chavez is not a world I want to live in.

Meanwhile, while I now have no idea what the truth is in this whole Clemens fiasco -- inclined to think he used steroids, but trying to keep an open mind -- and am increasingly unable to give a fuck, I lost any shred of respect or empathy I might have had for Brian McNamee when I read this AP article (via River Ave Blues last week). It seems that at the end of the 2001 season, in Florida, a bunch of Yankees had a party at their hotel, which McNamee attended, and:

"Detectives believed the former New York Yankees trainer who says he injected Roger Clemens with steroids lied to them during the 2001 investigation of a possible rape, according to documents released Tuesday by police."

I don't even remember hearing about this story at the time -- it was just a few weeks after 9/11, and I suppose that's at least partly why it didn't get more attention. But it isn't being discussed much now, either; even the Post, which you'd think would be all over it (the Post loves rape), didn't even run the entire AP article. And so I'm going to rant a little bit now, because dammit, somebody ought to.

The article goes on to describe the embodiment of all the nightmare-jock-party stories you heard in high school and college:

"The records released Tuesday by the St. Petersburg police show McNamee was suspected of raping a woman he had met at the Renaissance Vinoy Resort in October 2001. ...

McNamee was having sex with the woman in the resort's pool and didn't stop when confronted by security, the documents say. Police were notified. When they arrived, they found McNamee had helped the woman out of the pool and get dressed, according to the documents. Groggy and incoherent, she was taken to the hospital, where the documents said she was found to have GHB, the "date-rape drug," in her system.

The woman told detectives she could not remember details of the encounter in the pool. She said she did not give McNamee permission to have sex with her, and witnesses told detectives they had heard her saying "no" during the encounter, according to the documents. Detectives later recovered some of her jewelry, an empty beer can and a water bottle containing GHB at the side of the pool.

Police interviewed McNamee hours later, according to the documents, and he denied having sex with the woman or knowing Yankees batting practice pitcher, Charles Wonsowicz, who was also in the pool. McNamee refused to submit a saliva sample for DNA analysis, the documents said."

Now, McNamee was never charged, let alone convicted, so I get that these are just allegations, not proven facts. These records are only coming to light now because of Clemens' lawsuit, and of course making McNamee look bad is the whole point. Still -- the story is drawing from police files, not just innuendo, and it's more than enough to make me question McNamee's character and credibility. To put it mildly.

Of course, it raises another question, too, which Roger Clemens' lawyers seem to hope we'll gloss over: if you're Clemens, and you know about this incident, why do you then hire this slime, and stay friends with him for years afterwards? After all, it was apparently reason enough for the Yankees to fire him (which: I am pleasantly surprised they had the backbone). But:

"Clemens then hired McNamee as his personal trainer. According to the pitcher's lawsuit, McNamee told him that his actions were "actually a life-saving attempt.""

Right. A life-saving attempt, who wouldn't buy that? You know what, I'm done here -- these two guys can sue each other into oblivion for all I care.

All in all, it's certainly been a glamorous few weeks for the national pastime. Rape and abscesses! HGH and GHB! Christ on a pogo stick, I just want to watch a damn game already.

Who's More 'Now': Bud Selig or Kenesaw Mountain Landis?

I can't believe I'm saying this so soon after sitting through the Home Run Derby (Back-back-back-back-[MUTE]!), but for once I'm actually on ESPN's side, as MLB reveals itself once again to be a lumbering, self-destructive dinosaur:

ESPN won't be able to allowed to broadcast its "Baseball Tonight" show live from the All-Star game in San Francisco on Tuesday night.

Major League Baseball limited ESPN's access this week after the cable network broke an embargo and announced the All-Star rosters before the end of a selection show on TBS.

You just can't do this anymore. If you broadcast something on national TV, it becomes common knowledge. It's going to be all over the internet within seconds, and then how can you really ask news programs -- though I use this term loosely with regards to ESPN -- not to cover it? They'll be scooped by a thousand websites. The fact that we're talking about All-Star Game selections here, as opposed to actual important news that people care about, means this particular instance is probably not ideal material for a first amendment-based lawsuit. But MLB is being painfully clueless here. And also here... god help us all.

Of course, this is also an example of how ESPN's business interests will never allow it to be a true news entity. Remember when the network aired Bonds on Bonds... while simultaneously pretending to neutrally cover Barry's home run chase? Or when they stopped airing hockey and basically never mentioned the NHL ever again? I understand the economic necessity behind it, I just wish they'd be more honest about it: ESPN is far too financially involved with the sports it covers to maintain any sort of impartiality. Just look what happens when it tries: They kept John Kruk and Steve Phillips out of the All-Star Game! You bastards!

Meanwhile, SportsCenter just ran the abomination that is the "Who's Now?" segment. "Who's more 'now': Alex Rodriguez or Terrell Owens?" I'm sorry, who's more... I... you just... okay, you know what? Forget I said anything: MLB and ESPN deserve each other.

In other, non-bitter-rant news:

- Check out "Ol' Butterfly-Head, Brian Roberts." Awesome. Quote of the day: "I can't imagine he knows he's got a butterfly on his head." Runner-up quote of the day: "Kinda speaks to the fact that there’s not a lot going on when the Rangers are up at bat here." Thank you, Uni Watch.

- Unfortunately for Met fans, you can't really hate the Phillies after this.



Check out this clip of the entire team running out of the dugout to help the Colorado grounds crew wrestle the tarp onto the field during a viciously windy rainstorm. And check it out quick, before MLB has it removed from YouTube, because Bud Selig grew up in the Cretaceous. Really nice moment... although, uh, where the hell were the Rockies? It's just LaTroy Hawkins out there by himself. Even a couple of umpires joined in, forcing me to question my long-held assumption that they are all demonic spawn sent to this earth to torment the honest, hardworking baseball fans in the Stadium bleachers.

But Hey, The Wild Card Was a Really Good Idea

Okay, it's probably time to start worrying about the Mets now. Panicking, no. But worrying? Get to it. They've had some lousy luck, and a ton of injuries, but if they don't come out of their mini-tailspin this week, things could start getting out of hand... or maybe I'm just responding to last night's Willie Randolph post-game press conference, which took place in a dark, claustrophobic tunnel bathed in deep red light. That was kind of disconcerting.

The Mets took a break Monday from losing to the Phillies and Tigers in order to lose to the Dodgers; even after all these years, I'm still a little bit surprised, every time Grady Little appears on my television screen, that someone has hired him again as a major league manager. I'm being a little harsh here, since he's actually got a very high winning percentage in his managerial career... but when you hear the words Grady Little, isn't some variation on "what the fuck was he thinking?!" the first phrase that comes to mind?

The Yankees are finally looking respectable-ish these days. Yesterday's New York Times' multimedia headline was, "For Yankees, There is an 'O' In June." At the risk of sounding juvenile, I'm thinking that could have been phrased better, but you get the idea. The Wild Card no longer looks like such a stretch. And after that miserable start, all I'm asking for from this team is a legitimate race... okay, and .500. It would be really nice if they got over .500.

Meanwhile Bud Selig continues to drive me steadily insane. He's now threatening Jason Giambi with more severe disciplinary action if he doesn't spill his guts to the Mitchell Commission, all because of comments Giambi made in USA Today suggesting that, shock!, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea for MLB to apologize for the unchecked steroid use that went on for over a decade directly under Selig's nose (I may be paraphrasing there just a tad).

Look, I don't want to defend steroid users. Jason Giambi isn't exactly the ideal guy to be calling for an apology from anyone, and he should absolutely have been suspended... in, say, 2001, when he was admittedly taking "that stuff"*. Unfortunately Selig hadn't bothered to fight the Player's Association very hard for testing at that point, at least not publicly, and he keeps insisting that he didn't know what a problem it was at the time. But come on. While the Guillermo Motas and Matt Lawtons of 'roiding are tough to spot, I have friends who don't even watch baseball and yet realized years ago that Giambi was juicing; all you had to do was look at photos of him as a young player to know that something was going on there. Ditto Barry Bonds. Hint: when the actual size and shape of an adult skull changes dramatically over a two-year period, that's not normal. If Selig really had no idea, which I doubt (just like I don't buy that the Yankees were clueless about Giambi's possible steroid use when they signed him), he certainly should have. And now, WAY too late to do any good, we get this bullying, legally shaky crusade. Gah.

Okay, rant over, sorry -- I'm sick of the topic too. In any case, I think we can all agree that if The Commish had any integrity, he would never have allowed this to happen. (Via Uni Watch).



*It's possible he still is, of course. Perhaps the money being poured into the Mitchell Commission would be better spent developing a reliable HGH test.

Stay Classy, Greater Tampa Bay-St. Petersberg Area

The Devil Rays, now officially reeking of desperation, will play a series with the Texas Rangers next summer at Disney World. According to the SI.com article,

"We hope these games whet the appetite of fans from Central Florida and they'll take us up on our offer to come sample Rays baseball and our fan experience at Tropicana Field," Devil Rays president Matt Silverman said.

Hey, Matt, you know what might make fans take you up on your "offer to come sample Rays baseball"? WINNING MORE THAN 61 GAMES. Also, perhaps investing something beyond pocket change into your team, thereby attracting a pitcher more impressive than the mighty Casey Fossum, would be of some help. Given the team's status as a perpetual punchline, I'm amazed they even managed to draw 16,000 fans a game.

Last year at this time they were wondering if changing the name of the Devil Rays to something a little less Satanic might help attendance. For fuck's sake, it's been 10 years and the team has never even sniffed a winning record; get your heads out of your collective asses before your team is mercifully contracted.

Thank you.

P.S. FieldTurf sucks.