Originally Posted December 14, 2007

Magnificent Non-denial Denial

Oh you gotta love this!

Roger Clemens becomes the top name implicated in the Major League Baseball steroids scandal, and his attorney issues a statement saying that he was slandered.

Now here's the quote:

"Roger has been repeatedly tested for these substances and he has never tested positive," Clemens' attorney, Rusty Hardin, said in a statement. "There has never been one shred of tangible evidence that he ever used these substances and yet he is being slandered today."

Let's look at this magnificent example of a non-denial denial.

1) Does the attorney say anywhere that Clemens did not use steroids?

Wow! How could he leave out such an important statement if it were true?

2) So Roger has never tested positive. Hmmmm, does that mean he never used steroids? Or does that simply mean he never got caught?

3) There's no "tangible" evidence that he used these drugs. Meaning, forget the guy who testified that he shot Roger in the ass many, many times, just focus on the fact that it wasn't video recorded and the bottles and needles were thrown out, and thus, no tangible evidence. We only have the testimony of the guy who helped him.

What a load of bullshit -- but it's the best non-denial denial I've read in a long time. Bravo!


http://tinyurl.com/af3dwf

Originally Posted October 2, 2007

A Long Tradition Comes to a Sad End

On October 3rd, 1978 a tradition began.


Some years earlier, when I was in the fifth grade, I read a biography of Willie Mays. I was captivated by Mays, and by the events that transpired in his rookie year, particularly the fact that the Giants caught the Dodgers, to tie the regular season after the Dodgers had blown a huge lead. The rest of that story is history. Bobby Thomson defeats the Dodgers in the playoff with the "shot heard round the world." October 3rd, 1951.


As a youth, I had a phonograph record celebrating the 1969 Miracle Mets. On that record, was Russ Hodges' call of Thomson's home run. I memorized every inflection of that call.


Dear old Dad, in conveying his love for baseball to me, had once told me how the Dodgers had so big of a lead that summer, that they had ordered new uniforms for the World Series. They had numbers on the *front* of the jersey, and not just the back. Then the Dodgers collapsed. I remember Dad telling me how much of a crushing feeling that was.


So, as any young teenager would do, particularly a fan of Willie Mays, each year on October 3rd, I would come in to whatever room Dad was in and recite Russ Hodges' call of Thomson's home run. It's every teenager's duty to yank their parents' chain as often as possible.


On October 3rd, 1978 as a teenage college student, I knew I wasn't going to see Dad that day. So I called him. A tradition begun.


I yet again recited Russ Hodges' call, only this time over the phone.


I have since phoned Dad every year, without fail. Including the years I lived in the Midwest, New England, The North Pole, and now in the Sunshine State. With the advent of the internet, I was able to readily access a recording of Hodges, and began to play *that* over the phone rather than recite it myself. One year, I even sent a .wav file as an email attachment. Twenty-nine straight years.


A tradition comes to an end.


The team that ultimately replaced the Dodgers and the Giants was the Metropolitan Baseball Club of New York. In short, the New York Mets.


In the year of our lord 2007, the New York Mets pulled off the biggest September collapse in the history of baseball. They blew a 7 game lead with 17 to play, losing a must-win game on the last day of the season, ceding the title to the Philadelphia Phillies.


Three generations of The Rusty Family are incredulous. I'm pretty sure the Mets had ordered new uniforms for the playoffs, just like the Dodgers had. All I can think is -- baseball happens.

My son today is 3 years older than my Dad was in 1951. We went out last night and the look on his face revealed a telling story. I think I know for sure that 57 years from now, he's not going to want to be reminded of the last 3 weeks. Especially from his own bratty, snot-nosed, middle-aged kid.


Dad, I may call you tomorrow, but I'm not mentioning Bobby Thomson ever again.


Russ Hodges, R.I.P.