CHICAGO - It's been a long year for everybody in Red Sox Nation. Each individual has a personal worst memory. For Roger Clemens, the low point came Saturday night when he was pulled from a game in the eighth inning with the Sox leading, 2-1.
Boston went on to lose, of course, but Clemens wasn't around for the finish. He bolted Fenway before the bullpen blew the lead. The Rocket was steaming. Literally.
``I think we were still winning when I got out of there,'' Clemens said last night. ``I know it's the fastest I've ever left the park. I think I snapped at Lou Gorman on the way out the door. I had to put the defroster on in the car because the heat from my arm was causing the windows to fog up.''
Smoke coming from his ears probably contributed to the steam bath.
``I'm not going to bury anybody in public, I've never done that,'' he said. ``But it's very disheartening. I don't mind getting beat, but you can't get outhustled like we did against Minnesota and Kansas City. That's what's driving me crazy and makes me want to tear somebody ... it just gets me so upset.
``We go hard for 2 hours and then get beat in the last 30 minutes of a game because of lack of concentration. That's when you tighten up the holes. And that's why we're in the position we're in. That's why we're losing. For some reason, the focus isn't there. For some reason, it's hard for some of these guys to concentrate. I know I'd never tell you that. It's something I can't understand.''
The Sox have won only three of Clemens' 14 starts. Boston is dropping toward Tigerland in the American League East. Clemens makes $5 million per year, hasn't won 20 since 1990, and his contract is up at the end of the season. We know he longs to play in Houston, where his family lives. He has veto power over any trade involving himself, but what would he say if the Sox tried to ship him to a contender (for prospects) in July or August this year?
``I don't know what teams I would go to,'' he said. ``I haven't thought about that. I would have to look that over. I'd have to consider it, but they'd have to come to me and say that this is something that they strongly feel they have to do.
``I don't know that I could feel right, other than in search for a ring. I couldn't come through Boston in another American League uniform. National League, maybe. I couldn't see myself with Baltimore or New York. I think it would have to be well into August before we'd say we're really out of it. If they came to me, I'm not sure I would even entertain the thought.''
Meanwhile, he has joined Mo Vaughn and Tim Naehring in the chorus of veterans unhappy with the attentiveness of teammates. Saturday night was a back-breaker. Clemens threw 134 pitches through seven and took a 2-0 lead into the eighth. He has left six games with leads and the Sox have gone on to lose five of those games. He leads the American League in innings (95) and strikeouts (105). His ERA is a respectable 4.07, but he's only 3-6 in 14 laborious starts.
Lack of run support has hurt him. But Boston's hideous defense makes it doubly hard to win.
Early Sunday, after he'd cooled off, Clemens confronted some teammates who he believes are not fully concentrating.
``If I say anything, I say it to the guys and address them on it,'' he said. ``If I feel guys aren't going after a ball hard or things like that. We had a little talk about it. These guys got all petrified wood seeing how pissed off I was, thinking it was because of the run support. But I can deal with two runs. That's not it.
``I spend 15 minutes talking to them about where to play guys. I tell them, `This guy does this in this situation. He's going to hit the ball toward you.' After 13 years, I know my tendencies. So when I tell somebody, `Don't play this guy deep in this situation, so you won't have to run after the ball,' they should know.
``It drives me ballistic to watch [coach] Frank White even when I'm not pitching. Frank's got to position guys every single at-bat. I mean, what are you thinking about? What are you doing? That's the difference between being a player and being afraid to make a mistake.
``I don't have a problem with a guy going after a ball and missing it. I'll pick you up. But those other things drive me crazy.
``I can win with two runs. I can get out of the jams and take my game to the next level. But then we make some mistakes and that runs my pitch count up. Now I'm desperately trying to get a two-pitch out. It has nothing to do with physical errors. This is a mental thing.''
Like Naehring and Vaughn, Clemens was cautious not to name names. But it's easy to find Aaron Sele in this statement: ``I can't play Ann Landers to everybody else. I keep giving a pat on the butt to everybody, but you just want to say, `Let's go. You're either a No. 2 pitcher or you're going to be a No. 5 pitcher the rest of your life. Make a decision. You're at that point in your career.' Let's go.''
While he talked, two of Clemens' four sons suited up for a light workout at Comiskey.
``These are the guys that are going to make the decisions for me,'' he said, pointing to his sons.
And then he went out and worked on some fundamentals with his boys. They played hard the whole time, got dirty and did what they were told. They are being taught to show a little respect for the game - something too many of the big boys have lost.
This story ran on page 77 of the Boston Globe on 06/11/96.