Clemens could be in trouble when he faces Congress

Clemens is walking into a difficult situation on February 13. Jim McIsaac/Getty Images Sport

MAILBAG Got a question or comment for Jon? Your name: Your e-mail address: Your home town: Enter your question:

Congressional Hearings   Latest Coverage Roberts: Clemens same on or off mound Donovan: Hits coming soon for Pettitte Verducci: Clemens' rep takes beating Rocket, McNamee hold ground in hearing McCann: Clemens stands tall on the Hill Epstein: Hearing a day to 'misremember' Survey: Winners, losers from hearing Facial expert: Clemens looked nervous Rocket hearing the talk of spring training Deitsch: Live blog from Clemens hearing React: Your observations from hearing Depositions: Pettitte | Clemens | More Pettitte admits additional HGH use in '04 Jan. 15 Hearings Verducci: Mitchell was hearing's winner McCann: Tejada could be in major trouble Selig, Fehr grilled in Tuesday's hearing Who's Who: Congress and Baseball SI: Father puts his son on steroids, HGH Heyman: Clemens' ex-trainer speaks out SI Flashback: Inside the steroid sting SI Flashback: Rocket Science | 300 Wins SI Flashback: Confessions of an MVP The Report Download the complete Mitchell Report Clemens | Pettitte | Tejada | Bonds Gallery: Mitchell Report Confessions

Roger Clemens had another bad outing on Tuesday. And this time, it didn't come from a pitching mound, in front of a television camera or behind a microphone.

It didn't involve him secretly taping his former trainer Brian McNamee, then publicly playing a tape that revealed absolutely nothing untoward or incriminating about McNamee.

It didn't involve Clemens storming out of his own prearranged press conference when the questions weren't to his liking.

Nor did it involve Clemens hemming and hawing at relative softballs from his friend Mike Wallace about the chances for a lie detector.

It didn't even come in person, for while Clemens didn't appear in front of Congress on Tuesday, he was surely there in spirit, and that was more than enough for him to get creamed.

If Clemens really does go to Washington next month and tell his seemingly fanciful story -- one a child would have trouble believing -- that McNamee never injected him with steroids 16 times between 1998 and 2001, it won't be as the pampered star he's been his whole adult life. Rather, he will go as toast.

If Clemens dares to show up next month, he will be facing folks that aren't fans or friends but who are out for blood. For all the obvious lack of baseball knowledge displayed yesterday by many committee members -- several mispronounced Bud Selig's name, one referred to Rafael Palmeiro as "Palmieri,'' and yet another called the postseason the "post-session'' -- they've already spilled several pints of big-name blood back in 2005.

Mark McGwire entered Rayburn Hall an American hero and left it a disgrace. Curt Schilling, who can type a 3,800-word missive on any subject, sat there tongue-tied. Jose Canseco, whose book triggered the first hearing and who otherwise loves the microphone, staggered and stammered through his testimony. And while Palmeiro gave the most compelling testimony that day, memorably pointing his finger while declaring his innocence, he became a loser, too, when he failed a steroid test a few months later, leading many to assume that his forceful words were nothing but well-acted lies.

And Tuesday there was another target to be named later. Committee chairman Henry Waxman (D-Calif.) recommended that the Justice Department pursue a case against Astros shortstop Miguel Tejada, who told committee staff in a 2005 follow-up interview that he didn't take steroids and knew of no one who did. That claim is farfetched on its face since he played with the Giambi brothers and a bunch of other BALCO boys in Oakland before moving on to Baltimore, yet another apparent 'roid hotbed (see Jason Grimsley, David Segui, Larry Bigbie, Brian Roberts and Mr. Big Arms himself, Jay Gibbons).

Waxman made clear Tejada was in hot water now because his testimony was "contradicted'' in the Mitchell Report. So where could this leave Clemens, who had his own special section in Mitchell's report, the longest and most-detailed of any single player? If the committee's going after Tejada for allegedly lying to them in an interview, Clemens had better watch out.

Whereas Tejada got only three pages in the Mitchell Report and the best evidence against him was a check for $3,100 to ex-teammate Adam Piatt, Clemens got eight pages filled with McNamee's specific testimony, which was both compelling and compelled. And McNamee received validation from Mitchell on Tuesday. A committee member asked Mitchell why he believed McNamee, and Mitchell said, "He had an overwhelming incentive to tell the truth.'' True enough, as the feds were threatening to make McNamee a target if he didn't.

So Clemens will go into the hearings facing a 3-and-0 count and the bases loaded, while the committee goes in believing Mitchell, a revered former Senator who was treated like a deity on Tuesday.

McNamee will be there Feb. 13, and he'll be there as a witness. Just like Clemens, who won't be the seven-time, can-do-no-wrong Cy Young winner when he appears before Congress. He'll just be a guy who is contradicting Mitchell, the real star in Washington.

Here are a few more observations on Tuesday's session ....

• The revelation that the number of players receiving a therapeutic-use exemption for attention deficit disorder zoomed from 28 in 2006 to 107 looks like a greenie loophole that players could drive a Ferrari through. Statistically it would seem impossible that so many players suddenly need to be medicated for that one illness. One former trainer once told me that Adderall -- which is on the banned list -- is a drug of choice now for some of these players claiming attention deficit disorder but looking for an edge.

• Members of San Francisco Giants management were lampooned as execs who were being investigated for what most seemed to be doing during the Steroid Era, which is looking the other way. Top MLB officials probably aren't heartbroken over the Giants' inclusion in the Mitchell Report, as many saw their upper management as enablers of Barry Bonds.

• Ex-Giants trainer Stan Conte came off as a rare hero, someone who reported to Giants management his suspicions about Bonds' trainer Greg Anderson and his presence in the clubhouse. It's no coincidence that Conte's now with the rival Dodgers.

• Commissioner Bud Selig had a much better time on Tuesday than he did in 2005. And he should have. Baseball has taken a lot of steps and appears to be doing most of what it can to strengthen the drug program. And Mitchell, while saying he didn't have enough evidence to compare how different sports' administered their drug programs, asserted that baseball had the toughest penalties for steroid use.

• Players union chief Donald Fehr showed a sense of humor when he pointed out that this might be the first time that anyone suggested that he and Selig were on the same team. But Fehr, whose role in this was not only being slow to recognize the steroid problem, as he has admitted, but actually stonewalling MLB over steroids for years, still seemed awfully condescending on a subject he batted about .000 on until 2005. That's when he finally consented to reopening their collective bargaining agreement, following Congress' last foray into the issue.

• One of my favorite moments came when Fehr began one of his famous lectures on labor law, and committee member Eleanor Holmes Norton (D-D.C.) interrupted by informing him that she taught labor law at Georgetown University. Hmmm, I guess not everyone needs Fehr's lectures.

• Noticeably absent this time was Elliot Pellman, who didn't know much last time as baseball's supposed steroid "expert." His replacement, Gary Green, is a true expert.

• Union leader Gene Orza also appears to have been kept in the far background. Orza was the most vocal union person in downplaying the role and harm of performance enhancers during the Steroid Era.

• Selig appeared to be caught off-guard by the questions of Mark Souder (R-Ind.) who wondered 1) what Selig's position was on gene doping, and 2) whether he could use the "probable cause'' clause to test players whose stats rocketed. As to the second question, about statistical abnormalities, it appears the answer is that MLB would need the union's approval. Which is too bad, because a sudden bump in performance would seem to me to be evidence of probable cause.