Clemens-Pettitte. The Misremembered Conversation

Roger Clemens: Hey, I was watching a TV show the other day.
Andy Pettitte: You bought a TV?
RC: No, Andy, I was watching TV, and there was this show about three old guys.
AP: How much did you pay?
RC: Pay for what?
AP: The TV? How much did you pay for the TV?
RC: Andy, I said I was watching TV. Come on, man. There was this show about three old guys.
AP: Three old guys on TV. Like Grumpy Old Men.
RC: There were only two of them.
AP: I thought three.
RC: Right. Anyway they were like, pretty sick, you know? Sickly and stuff.
AP: Maybe you should have given them food.
RC: What? Give who food?
AP: The old guys you were watching TV with. You could have given them soup. Chicken soup is good for you. Clears out your pores and stuff.
RC: I wasn’t watching TV WITH them, Andy, I don’t even know them. They were on TV. They were on a show.
AP: Oh. Gotcha.
RC: Anyway, one of them took this thing I’ve never heard of … human growth hormone. You heard of that?
AP: Heard of what?
RC: Human growth hormone?
AP: Yeah, I heard of it. HGH. Everybody’s heard of that. I think my Dad said something. You never heard of it?
RC: No, I’m just a big idiot when it comes to stuff like that. B12 vitamins is all you need.
AP: Cool.
RC: So, anyway, this guy takes the Human growth hormone — is that how you pronounce it? HOR-mone? Or is it hor-MONE — and man, he starts feeling a lot better.
AP: Amazing.
RC: I know. He started, like, playing golf and stuff. It was amazing.
AP: So where did this happen?
RC: Where did what happen?
AP: Where did you see the old guy who sold you the television doing HGH?
RC: Andy, man, you feeling OK? I didn’t buy any television from an old guy.
AP: So there was no old guy?
RC: The old guy was on television doing HGH. And it helped him, you know?
AP: Interesting.
RC: Yeah, I thought so.
AP: One question.
RC: What’s that?
AP: What’s it like doing HGH?
RC: How the hell should I know?
AP: Weren’t you doing HGH with some old guy in front of your television?
RC: You’re just crazy, Andy.
AP: It helped your golf game?
RC: Man, you know what? Just never mind, all right.
AP: I can’t wait to tell my wife about this.

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 14th, 2008 at 5:52 pm.
Categories: Baseball.

12 Comments, Comment or Ping

Aaron

Wait a second, I’m confused. Who’s on first?

Feb 14th, 2008
John

Actually, the conversation in question took place on Roger’s cell phone. The call dropped in the middle of a sentence, hence the misunderstanding.

Case solved, spring training can commence now.

Feb 14th, 2008
Justyo

Joe - I think you’re obligated to turn this transcript over to Congress. Otherwise I fear you may be rendered and waterboarded at Gitmo.

(At least we can laugh at it.)

Feb 14th, 2008
joeficarra

brilliant…

Feb 14th, 2008
Daniel

Brian McNamee walks in.
Brian: Wait…there’s some old dude hawking TV’s and selling on my turf? I’ma get that SOB!
RC: Brian! Is it time for my B12? My mom said it will make me grow big and strong!
AP (chuckling): Your mom…

Feb 14th, 2008
Ben

RC: Honey, where did I put those new designer pants with the oddly placed red spot?

Feb 15th, 2008
Clayton

Damn Joe, you write smart stuff too fast for us respond to it, even part time…you’re gonna deserve your own wing…but I also think Hawk Harrelson and Joe Lovitto should be similarly enthrined…

…My good friends. Roger Clemens is making an absolute ass of himself, but I urge you (and all prosecutors) to ignore it. He’s the tip of the tip of the iceburg, both in terms of drug use (mea culpa, different ones) and lying about everything (”I never had sex with THAT woman!”, Bill CLinton)…well, yeah, ok, who wouldna lied about that too, except that he apparently repeated the task

Roger Clemens was one of the really great (maybe 25?) pitchers in the history of the sport that we all love the most, so for God’s sake let’s let him go ranting off into the tall trees like we did Steve Carlton (who was even better, and definitely smarter, and way more embarrassing).

On his best days Clemens wasn’t Doc Gooden, and looking back on his best years he wasn’t as dominant as the bookish Maddux, but dammit, the man was always pretty damn good, and ultimately reliable!

Leave him (and Barry) alone, please. INvestigate Dan Burton for alien hormonal displants, something obvious like that.

That all being the case…only Nine heroic and qualified (if you’re reading this you’re qualified) respondents have answered the challenge. Just looking at the information I have, you have to figure that at least half of us are vulnerable to some kind of indictment or another (don’t worry about it, they usually go away) or from California (same thing, kinda, mainly)

(1) go to http://baseball.fantasysports.yahoo.com/

(2) select the blue “Join a league” button,

(3) choose the far left “custom league” option

(4) plug in league ID: 44683
password: soulofbaseball

But venture not near, should ye be of faint heart, for Power Chord Jihad always wins!!!!!

Feb 15th, 2008
Oddibe Kerfeld

Remember the glorious 80s when it was controversial when guys like Mike Scott were accused of scuffing and Joe Niekro,
Rick Honeycutt, and Kevin Gross got caught in the act? How about Billy Hatcher’s bat being corked? Congress should have
held hearings on that. I’m sure Tip O’Neil could have weighed in with something while not guest staring on Cheers.

Feb 15th, 2008
Pefacommish

The attention, time and money that America is wasting on this subject is ridiculous, though I’m sure Joe is happy with all of the columns he’s been getting out of it. He probably feels like Bill Maher, who was sorry when his favorite foil, Rudy Giuliani (or 9iu11ani as spelled on Dailykos) quit the race because he was so good for comedians. When Roger starts pitching again, Joe will have to find real stuff to make us laugh about.

Feb 15th, 2008
SoxSweepAgain

I love how some are saying “ignore this”.

Hell, since we can’t catch all the shoplifters, should we ignore the ones we do?

Feb 15th, 2008
Dwight

Clemens: You want answers?
Congressman: I think I’m entitled to them.
Clemens: You want answers?
Congressman: I want the truth!
Clemens: You can’t handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has baseballs. And those balls have to be hit by men with bats. Who’s gonna do it? You? You, Congressman? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for steroids and you curse HGH. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that HGH, while illegal, probably sells tickets. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, sells tickets…You don’t want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that mound. You need me on that mound. We use words like fastball, slider, splitfinger…we use these words as the backbone to a life spent playing a sport. You use ‘em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and falls asleep to the Sportscenter clips I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I’d rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a bat and dig in. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you’re entitled to!
Congressman: Did you order the HGH?
Clemens: (quietly) I did the job you sent me to do.
Congressman: Did you order the HGH?
Clemens: You’re goddamn right I did!!

Feb 18th, 2008
George Koppe

During down time at work I was reading your past blogs and came across one in December that included the observation about asking (or not asking) strangers for directions. For some reason I get asked for directions often. Since I travel frequently on business, this often happens in other cities. In those instances I usually have no clue, of course, as I am just praying I make it back to the airport on time and alive. But my best directions story is from Kansas City, long ago. Prior to the last Bartle Hall expansion there was an Amoco station on the southwest (I think) corner of 14th and Broadway. I’m second in line to pay for my gas and the person in front of me, clearly from somewhere else, asked the young girl behind the counter how to get to Bartle Hall. She looks at him and says “I don’t know. I just started here last week.” Keep in mind that Bartle Hall blots out the sky maybe about 150 feet from the windows of this station. When I point with my finger out the window and note that “Bartle Hall is right there, across the street,” the stranger chuckles and is somewhat chagrined that he didn’t realize this. The clerk, of course, gives me a blank look, not the least bit embarrassed at being a fool. I’m sure she is now a U.S. Senator or president of Amoco or something.

Mar 13th, 2008

Joe Posnanski