PORTLAND, Maine — Former Boston Red Sox pitcher and seven-time Cy Young Award winner Roger Clemens sat in the visitor’s dugout at Hadlock Field on Thursday, signing baseballs and gloves for about two dozen youngsters associated with the Barbara Bush Children’s Hospital and Dempsey Center.
Clemens is in Maine this week taking part in a Falmouth celebrity golf tournament with a raft of other famous folks, including actor Patrick Dempsey, soap opera legend Jack Wagner, former New England Patriots running back Rex Burkhead and “The Bachelor” season 20 contestant Ben Higgins. The tournament, Drive Fore Kids, benefits the children’s hospital.
In the dugout, Clemens beamed a benevolent smile down on each kid, some of them cancer survivors. In return, they glowed, posing for pictures and dancing away with the signature of a ballplayer who retired before any of them were born.
It was hard to tell what the kids really thought or knew about “The Rocket, who is now 61 years old.
Was the former fireballer one of the all-time greats, second on the career strikeout list, owner of two World Series rings, a legend who twice fanned 20 batters in a single game while being named to 11 All Star teams?
Or was he an alleged steroid user who extended his career beyond its natural limit and was once put on trial for lying to Congress? (He was found not guilty.)
Did those smiling kids think Clemens deserved immortality in Cooperstown? Or did he get what he deserved when the Baseball Hall of Fame snubbed him in his last year of eligibility in 2022?
The likely answer lay in what Westbrook infielder Miles Jacques, 11, said: “I don’t know much about him. I just know he was a really great pitcher.”
During Clemens’ hour with the kids, it was hard to deny his charm as he handed out practical baseball coaching pointers as well as ageless diamond axioms.
“Who can tell me what the best pitch is?” the 300-game winner asked.
“A curveball,” one kid ventured with confidence.
“A fastball,” another chimed in.
“Nope,” Clemens said. “The best pitch is strike one.”
He then demonstrated his fastball, sinking fastball and changeup grips before putting each kid through a ground ball drill, urging them to charge the ball with lively intent.
“It takes no talent to hustle,” he said.
Then, Clemens sent them all to the dugout for some water and shade.
“This is good, Texas heat,” Clemens said of the 90-degree day, nodding to his home state. “Your arm will never get stiff in this weather. You’ll always stay nice and loose.”
“How fast can you pitch,” one young player wearing a Pokemon hat asked.
“My fastball used to be about 98 miles an hour. Now, it’s about 58 miles an hour,” Clemens said, getting a laugh from the assembled parents and other adults.
The not-hall-of-famer seemed to be having genuine fun.
But it was also hard to shake the cynical thought that Clemens’ charity work may only be part of a charm offensive aimed at rehabilitating his tarnished image, a last ditch effort to sneak into Cooperstown via the so-called Veterans Committee whose job it is to induct overlooked players.
When asked that question, Clemens didn’t miss a beat, saying he liked to keep busy, especially now that he’s a grandfather.
As for ever getting into the Hall of Fame?
“Oh, man, I have no control over that,” he said, moving away, heading toward the kids, indicating the interview was over. “It’s not going to change me one way or the other.”
