OK, I have officially had enough of the Roger Clemens story.
The carefully-timed "revelation" that trainer Brian McNamee stored used syringes and blood-stained gauze pads after injecting Clemens is the last straw. How much lower can we get? Makes me want to go see the Paris Hilton movie to brighten my outlook on life.
It isn't just the scrapbooking of medical waste that's disturbing. It's all the time and money being spent to prove or disprove what was or wasn't shot into Clemens' butt. It's the obvious scheming going on, on all sides of this mess. It's the sanctimonious posturing by government officials.
Yuk.
Understand, I am not one of those people with a short attention span, the kind who needs a new hit of news adrenaline every other day. I am fascinated by stories of real import, stories that matter. But can someone please tell me why we care about this any more? Clemens' career is finished. What he did or didn't do is years in the past. If baseball cares so much about the sanctity of his statistics, let the Lords of Baseball handle (and fund) the investigation.
I've asked it before, and I'll ask it again: don't Congress and the Department of Justice have better things to worry about?
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