Ken Davidoff's baseball insider

I'm all Clemens-ed out this morning, so let's pay tribute to those in (baseball) uniform who cooperate most with the media and, therefore, are most accessible to you the fans.

Here's my personal all-media team, from my 14 years of covering baseball:

Catcher: John Flaherty. Even before his backup days with the Yankees, when he started for woeful Tampa Bay, the current YES analyst offered honesty, insight and wit.

First base: Todd Zeile. During his first tour with the Mets, Zeile exhibited class in a very difficult situation: He was replacing the beloved John Olerud at first base, and it was an open secret that Bobby Valentine wasn't crazy about the acquisition. Zeile also ranked among the first veteran players to speak out on behalf of stronger drug testing.

Second base: Alfonso Soriano. He is always cheerful, and the Dominican Republic native worked diligently on his English so that he wouldn't have to rely upon an interpreter. By 2002, his second full year in the big leagues, he conducted interviews by himself.

Shortstop: Jimmy Rollins. He thanks his mom for teaching him how to talk trash.

Third base: David Wright. He hasn't changed since he entered the Mets' clubhouse in 2004: Accessible, eloquent and friendly.

Leftfield: Johnny Damon. A breath of fresh air in an often subdued Yankees clubhouse.

Centerfield: Mike Cameron. He was quite open about his unhappiness when the Mets, having signed Carlos Beltran, moved him to rightfield.

Rightfield: Torii Hunter. You could go either way, with Hunter and Cameron in center or right. Hunter loves coming up with one-liners and always tells it like he sees it.

Designated hitter: Cliff Floyd. Unbelievably honest, consistently hilarious.

Bench: Catchers Eddie Perez (used to openly reveal details of team meetings), Mike Piazza (great pop culture references) and Jorge Posada (steady and critical); infielders Lance Berkman (couldn't hide his loathing of Roger Clemens the last couple of years), Denny Hocking (little-known Twins IF loved to talk), Omar Vizquel (eloquent) and Chipper Jones (embraced his "rivalry" with Shea Stadium fans); outfielders Gary Sheffield (least predictable human being ever), Curtis Granderson (friendly and open) and Bernie Williams (deep); DH David Ortiz (engaging).

Starting pitcher: David Cone. With the Mets and Yankees, he took it upon himself to conduct countless interviews, understanding that took some heat off his teammates. Extremely well-spoken on any issue.

Starting pitcher: John Smoltz. Brutally honest.

Starting pitcher: Tom Glavine. Patient with the media masses, and his answers always looked good in print.

Starting pitcher: Orel Hershiser: Exhaustive, and often witty, responses to your questions.

Starting pitcher: Andy Pettitte. Sorry, Yankees haters, but the guy is awfully sincere.

Starting pitcher: Mike Mussina. You have to get to know him, but once you do, he can be both scathing and funny.

Closer: Billy Wagner. Remarkably forthright. The Mets wish he would work on that, but he won't.

Setup man: Todd Jones. For many years, his interviews have served as a virtual audition for a post-career broadcasting gig.

Manager: Joe Torre: For putting up with the ever-expanding Bronx Zoo with grace and humor that no one could match.

Bench coach: Bobby Valentine. Man, could he stir it up. Also very accessible during the winter.

My apologies for the tardiness this morning. Got home late last night, after a flight from Orlando to LaGuardia, and took my son to pre-school this morning. It's good to be home, even in the freezing weather.

Spring training usually marks my longest trip of the year. On Monday, February 11th, I flew from LaGuardia to Washington, sitting one row ahead of Senator Charles Schumer. Between my arrival in D.C. that night and my return home last night _ no celebrities on the flight, unfortunately _ I saw two Congressional hearings and five big-league camps. I got to see Roger Clemens dig his own grave on Wednesday the 13th on Capitol HIll, and yesterday, I witnessed him throw batting practice as Congress referred his perjury case to Justice.

So, before I unpack, here are some departing thoughts:

Yes, just yesterday (in the item below), we discussed why, if we were a baseball general manager, we wouldn't touch Barry Bonds.

Bonds, who will turn 44 in July, arguably has more in his tank than Clemens, who will turn 46 in August. But that's only mildly relevant in comparing the two scenarios.

The key difference is that Bonds, whom the Giants absolutely don't want to bring back, would be joining a new team, while Clemens would be rejoining a team with which he has a longstanding relationship. Clemens, along with his frenemy Andy Pettitte, lifted the Astros to unprecedented heights from 2004 through 2006. The owner, Drayton McLane, has a clear affection for him, as does the fan base.

I'd bet you a box of donuts that, if Clemens were to take the mound at Minute Maid Park, he'd receive a standing ovation. And it wouldn't be totally unjustified. Unquestionably, Clemens has behaved like a colossal you-know-what since the Mitchell Report came out. But it's even less disputable that Clemens was thrown to the Congressional wolves by the profoundly conflicted George Mitchel, who, according to Brian McNamee, was so happy when he firmed up the Clemens allegations that he looked like he wanted to hug the former personal trainer (McNamee's attorneys have said, since this Jon Heyman story came out, that there was no actual hug).

Fans protect their own. Look, what's more despicable, the Braves fans who embraced John Rocker after his disgusting views (lower in this story) were published? Or Astros fans who know that their boy is being targeted for something that so many did? It's not even close, in my mind.

And yes, to reiterate, Clemens has conducted himself like a pig in defending himself. But then again, if he wasn't defending himself at all, a la Bonds, we'd all be making fun of him, too, saying, "Roger, if you're not fighting these allegations, you're obvioulsly guilty."

Players generally like being Clemens' teammate, since he brings an enthusiasm and a desire to help youngsters. And there wouldn't be a huge media presence every day like there has been with Bonds, because Clemens obviously pitches just once every five days, at most.

The notion that Clemens is entirely done is a mere fallacy. Clemens pitched decently for the Yankees last year, and he'd surely have more success in the more navigable National League Central.

Clemens would surely rather pitch than sit around the house, and the Astros are going to stink, no matter what. Both sides would benefit from this reunion.

I take pride in the fact that I hate Barry Bonds far less than does the average baseball media member. I can't stand the moralistic finger-wagging that occurs when people make Bonds the scapegoat for an entire era's worth of mistakes.

Yet that being said, if Rays executive vice president Andrew Friedman dropped by the blog to ask my advice on bringing Bonds aboard for 2008, I'd say to him: "Andrew _ can I call you Andrew? _ don't do it."

I spent enough times around Bonds last year, as he pursued and passed Hank Aaron, to confirm these admittedly not profound beliefs:

1) His presence takes a psychic cost on a team. Bonds was easily the best offensive player on last year's Giants, yet if you had polled the club on whether they'd rather have Bonds there or not, it would have been 24-0 against. Having Bonds around meant having a slew of media, all there for the not entirely positive story of everything that is Bonds.

Perhaps it would have been different if Bonds were a cheerful guy who apologized for generating such attention and gracefully dealt with the media pack _ like Hideki Matsui does with the Yankees. Instead, Bonds, as always, exhibited wild mood swings with both his teammates and the media.

Remember last year, when Barry Zito kicked off that gigantic contract and vowed to be Bonds' buddy? When camp opened this year, Zito could barely hide his delight over his fellow Barry's departure.

2) Bonds is on the decline. Look at his splits from last year: Admittedly, he posted awesome OBPs the first five months. But his slugging percentage varied wildly, and there were times last year when Bonds looked like a shot player. Figure that he'd get pitched to more in the Rays' lineup, considerably deeper than the 2007 Giants' group, and those walks would go down.

3) The whole indictment thing. The trial may very well not be until after the season. But would it really be worth Bonds' positives to sign an indicted player?

Friedman called this St. Petersburg Times report a "non-story," putting Friedman in a bit of a box. He can't go right out and sign Bonds after saying that. With the Cardinals out, too, despite Tony La Russa's interest, it's hard to see who will take a flyer on the home run king. His negatives are that considerable.

I thought Jon Stewart did the best hosting job since Billy Crystal's prime, and the speeches were quite memorable. Not sure I'd want the Coen brothers as the co-general managers of a baseball team. Don't think they'd divulge much.

So who would win the baseball equivalents of the Oscars, looking back at the last year? Let's give it a shot, in the order the awards were distributed last night:

Costume design: Whoever chose the Diamondbacks' new colors. They're not great uniforms, but they're a huge upgrade over these.

Animated feature: The Brewers' "Great Sausage Race." The best in-game feature anywhere.

Film editing: Ever see when SNY will winnow down a Mets broadcast to an hour? I like that.

Makeup: David Eckstein. Everyone, including J.P. Ricciardi in my Sunday Insider, is always discussing how great Eckstein's makeup is. It must be great, since you can't even notice it when you look at his face.

Visual effects: Ryan Howard. His majestic homers are right out of Hollywood.

Art direction: The design for the Rays' new ballpark. Looks pretty cool.

Live-action short: Mark Sweeney's appearances. The veteran, now with Joe Torre's Dodgers, usually hits just once a game, but he's a great pinch-hitter.

Animated short film: The Lake Erie midges' attack of Joba Chamberlain and the Yankees. If it wasn't technically a cartoon, it sure seemed like one.

Supporting actor: Yankees president Randy Levine, for his "I loved Joe Torre and will miss him dearly" monologue, after Torre turned down the Yankees' one-year offer last October.

Supporting actress: Debbie Clemens, who backed up her husband's account that she went behind The Rocket's back and received an HGH injection from Brian McNamee. Oy, the things we do for love.

Adapted screenplay: The 2007 Mets, for their remake of the 1964 Phillies.

Sound editing: The Chicago television stations that always have to be on their toes when it comes to post-game news conferences from profane managers Ozzie Guillen and Lou Piniella.

Sound mixing: The reaction in AT&T Park last August 7, when Barry Bonds passed Hank Aaron as the all-time home run king. No matter the morality, it was pretty great to hear the thunderous ovation.

Lead actress: Dodgers vice president and chairman Jamie McCourt. Just because she's the most prominent woman in a baseball front office. And we'd like to see more women get such chances.

Foreign language: Daisuke Matsuzaka's and Hideki Okajima's crucial contributions to the Red Sox's second World Series title in four years.

Original song: This brilliant tribute to the Braves' Mark Teixeira.

Cinematography: The Rockies' Matt Holliday's "Not sure if I touched it" slide into home plate that put Colorado in the playoffs.

Original score: Rangers 30, Orioles 3.

Let's skip the documentaries. Can't think of anything.

Original screenplay: Paul Lo Duca, for his notes to Kirk Radomski, featured in The Mitchell Report.

Lead actor: Roger Clemens, of course, for a performance so masterful that he believes himself, as Tom Verducci explains here.

Directing: Indians GM Mark Shapiro, for the series of moves that rebuilt Cleveland into a contender.

Best picture: "Superbad." The only baseball tie-in is that I watched it (and didn't charge it on the company's dime) in my hotel room during the general managers' meetings. But I do think that McLovin, after he earns his degree from Dartmouth, would make a fine GM.

The teams I see the most outside the Mets and Yankees are, for obvious reasons, the Phillies and Red Sox. Whenever I enter the Phillies' clubhouse, as I did Wednesday for this column, I make sure to check in with Tom Gordon.

I got to know Gordon during his two years with the Yankees, 2004-05, and he's an engaging fellow, if slightly eccentric. He's a good "state of the team" guy on the Phillies, and it's fun to speak with him about Mariano Rivera, with whom he remains very friendly.

The Phillies signed Gordon to a three-year, $18-million contract in December 2005, and he has been hampered by shoulder problems the last two seasons. Nevertheless, he made the National League All-Star team in 2006, and last year, he pitched well in September to help make the Phillies' miracle comeback possible.

It's not shocking that Gordon has hurt so much, given how much Joe Torre called upon him in his two seasons in the Bronx. Which brings us, in the most circuitous manner possible, to our point: Gordon deserves a better Yankees legacy.

Most Yankees fans with whom I've spoken, and some media, as well, tend to regard Gordon as yet another failed setup man in the post-Jeff Nelson and Mike Stanton era. But that's not fair. Look at how well Gordon pitched those two seasons. For that matter, look at what a remarkable career he's logged, overall.

People tend to harp on Gordon's postseason numbers, and sure, how could we not remember that opposite-field bomb that Gordon surrendered to David Ortiz in 2004 ALCS Game 5?

But remember that a) the Yankees might have missed the postseason if not for Gordon's contributions, particularly in 2005 when the race for a playoff spot was so close; b) in the same vein, Gordon must have been gassed those Octobers, after pitching so much in the regular season; c) Gordon actually did get some huge outs even in the 2004 ALCS. But since the Yankees' starting pitchers didn't provide nearly enough length, there were simply too many outs to get.

In next week's "Raw Deal" segment, we'll discuss Kevin Brown.

Jon Heyman and Dayn Perry named their top 10 general managers in recent days, something we did here back at last November's GM meetings.

So why not jump ahead, I thought, and name the game's top 10 managers?

1. Jim Leyland, Detroit. He combines the job's basic requirements _ people skills, in-game strategy, roster management and media relations _ better than anyone else. He's crusty, but it's sort of "crusty with a wink"; you know there's a method to his madness. He has incredible instincts for when to lift a pitcher. Remember when he changed pitchers in the middle of an at-bat against the Yankees in the 2006 playoffs?

2. Mike Scioscia, Angels. A relative youngster to rank so high _ he's in his ninth year as a manager _ but Scioscia has earned universal respect for his strong personality, great bullpen management and utilization of his entire 25-man roster.

3. Tony La Russa, St. Louis. It would be hard to rank The Genius any lower than this. Despite his arrogance, his huge presence in baseball's steroids era and the fact that we can blame him for teams that change pitchers four times in an inning, La Russa consistently gets the most out of his clubs. His 2006 postseason was his masterpiece.

4. Bobby Cox, Atlanta. I've yet to find a player who didn't enjoy playing for Cox, whose consistently upbeat approach is appreciated by his charges. His status as the Ejection King confirms that he fights for his players, even if that makes him a tad jerky to the rest of us.

5. Joe Torre, Dodgers. Some of you probably think this is too low, others too high. I admit, when I did some research for a Billy Wagner column the other day, I was blown away by how often Torre used Mariano Rivera last year in situations that were anything but high-leverage. Torre's bullpen management seemed to grow increasingly worse the last few years.

Now, on the flip side, Torre can navigate through stress better than anyone else, and it would be interesting to see how numbers one through four on this list would have functioned with the Yankees of the past 12 seasons. Torre generates incredible respect from his players, and he is the best, of course, at managing the media. He should make a significant impact this year replacing Grady Little, who clearly lacked in these areas.

6. Terry Francona, Boston. Like Scioscia, a relative young'un on this list, but he's impossible to ignore. Francona and his general manager, Theo Epstein, exemplify the modern management template of manager and GM operating in sync with one another. It's a model that Brian Cashman is attempting to emulate now with Joe Girardi. Francona has earned the respect of his players and the public by not getting caught up in the day-to-day "narrative," as Epstein calls it, of Red Sox Nation.

7. Lou Piniella, Cubs. Like Torre, he is no tactical genius, and he has a disquieting tendency to throw players under the bus when things go wrong. Yet Lou's teams play hard for him, always. Even when he managed the Devil Rays, he got far more out of that roster than most would have.

8. Ron Gardenhire, Minnesota. Another "organizational" guy like Francona, "Gardy" replaced an institution in Tom Kelly and is becoming an institution of his own. Always keeps the Twins in the mix, although that is going to be quite a challenge this year with Johan Santana gone.

9. Ozzie Guillen, White Sox. Yes, he often comes off as a few Chicken McNuggets short of a Happy Meal with some off-the-wall comments. Last year was a complete fiasco. But Ozzie's 2005 World Series title serves as a work of art _ remember how he and pitching coach Don Cooper allowed the starting pitchers to throw four straight complete games against the Angels in the ALCS? _ and the guess here is he and the White Sox will rebound with an interesting 2008.

10. Bruce Bochy, San Francisco. He comes off like the late Phil Hartman's Frankenstein in "Saturday Night Live," but he has an understated way of dealing with players that seems to work. And in his many years with the Padres, he exemplified a strong grasp of how to use a bullpen.

There's me with the squinty eyes and blue and yellow, striped shirt, looking like Fred Wilpon's long-lost, underachieving son, Biff.

Fred, the Mets' longtime, distinguished CEO, made news yesterday in his annual, State of the Mets address. He expects his team, owning the highest payroll in the National League, to go "deep into the playoffs." Pretty interesting, from a guy who's usually pretty careful with his words (that's COO Jeff Wilpon, as you probably know, in the red shirt and the black Mets hat).

There is confidence all over Mets camp, a trend kicked off by Carlos Beltran on Saturday. There's no doubt that the Johan Santana trade, in addition to obviously strengthening the club, gave the organization a much-needed vehicle to move away from The Collapse of '07.

As I wrote in my column today, I think the tough talk is a positive development, a hunger for redemption. Last year, the Mets seemed to carry a sense of entitlement, as if they could just wake up in October and take care of busines. That passivity is gone now.

What do you think, Mets fans? Do you like the words? Or, like Pedro Martinez, do you just want to put your heads down and make sure you qualify for the playoffs this year?

In watching Andy Pettitte's news conference from afar yesterday, I thought of an exchange from "The Big Chill." Thanks to IMDb:

Michael: I don't know anyone who could get through the day without two or three juicy rationalizations. They're more important than sex.
Sam Weber: Ah, come on. Nothing's more important than sex.
Michael: Oh yeah? Ever gone a week without a rationalization?

Pettitte did well yesterday, I thought, but he's got to put a rest to this "I wasn't seeking a competitive advantage" line. That's exactly what he was doing. He took human growth hormone because he thought it would heal him _ and, consequently, provide those extra miles per hour on the fastball _ in a way that legal, over-the-counter drugs (or one a physician prescribed) could not.

I agree with my Newsday teammate Wallace Matthews. Pettitte is a cheater.

Now, that being said, we have to realize that Pettitte is also a scapegoat. His biggest mistake was that his dealer got caught by baseball's profoundly conflicted steroids investigator George Mitchell, while so many other unscrupled players' reputations are intact.

While I look forward to seeing how Pettitte looks in spring training, for now, I think he'll pitch well for the Yankees in 2008. This saga isn't over, no matter what Pettitte wants, but we could very well go through the entire '08 season before there's a development _ in either a possible Justice Department investigation or Roger Clemens' defamation lawsuit against Brian McNamee _ that would require Pettitte's participation.

I do look forward to Pettitte's first start in Fenway Park. What creative chant will you devise, Red Sox fans?

Remember Andy Pettitte's Dec. 15 apology, two days after the Mitchell Report came out? It wasn't Pettitte's finest hour. Even as he confessed to sins, the left-hander came off as more defensive than contrite.

Since then, we've learned that Pettitte's usage of human growth hormone extended beyond "two days out of my life"; for now, the number is three days. We've learned that Pettitte's father, Tom, purchased HGH illegally in the Houston area. And Pettitte has effectively sunk his longtime teammate and friend, Roger Clemens _ in the court of public opinion, at least _ with his testimony to the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform.

There's no longer any room for defiance when he sits at a podium today at Steinbrenner Field (it's going to take a while to get used to that one) and takes questions. If I were writing his speech, here's how I would go with it:

"Thank you all for coming here today. As you know, this has been a most painful offseason for me, and for that, I have no one to blame but myself. I am guilty of repeatedly poor judgment that has cast my family and my team in a negative light.

I will now take all of your questions. I will answer as many as you have, but please know that, after today, I will no longer discuss these matters."

He then needs to listen to those question and respond with the same sinceritiy that has characterized his relationship with the public for the past 13 years.

Allowed myself to sleep in this morning, blowing off the 6:00 wake-up call and getting up at 7 instead. While I made it to Mets camp yesterday in time to hear Pedro Martinez needle Roger Clemens, I did so in long sleeves and jeans, having flown in from Washington. Today will mark my true indoctrination to the wonder that is spring training.

It's my favorite time of year, work-wise. We get great weather, nights off (generally) and more freedom to pick our subject matter than during the regular season, which is obviously shaped by the games.

Given our New York readership, there's not enough compelling storylines to merit a trip to Arizona this year, so I'll spend the next few weeks in Florida _ mostly with our two locals, but perhaps with some bouncing around to other camps.

Sadly, I've never been to Vero Beach. Maybe I'll find my way over there to check in with Joe Torre, before the Dodgers head West forever. For now, however, for those of you making your way down or contemplating such a trip, here are my thoughts on the other Florida locales:

St. Peterburg (Rays): Beautiful hotels, and a great, old-school ballpark that should generate positive memories for old-time Mets fans. Nothing to dislike here. Unfortunately, they'll soon be leaving here for disgusting Port Charlotte. Grade: A

Tampa (Yankees): While I know people in my business who will disagree, I enjoy Tampa for its convenience (the airport is 10 minutes from the ballpark - still struggling with that new name), its central location in the state and its abundance of amenities in both the dining and shopping arenas. Grade: A

Clearwater (Phillies): Love the beach area, and the new ballpark is pretty nice, too. Grade: A-

Fort Lauderdale (Orioles): Great city, perhaps the best of all Florida spring training sites. Horrible stadium, although they're trying to get the funds for upgrading it, and it's far, far away from all opponents. Grade: A-

Lake Buena Vista (Braves): Your stance on Disney World will dictate your feelings of this place, since it's located right on campus. The ballpark is highly regarded enough to have hosted big-league games (the Rays played Texas in a three-game series last year) and World Baseball Classic action. Grade: B+

Jupiter (Cardinals and Marlins): No major complaints here. Nice new facility, and pretty close (about 15 minutes) to Palm Beach International Airport. Grade: B.

Lakeland (Tigers): After spending four years in Michigan for college, I can appreciate the charms that Joker Marchant Stadium offers to Tigers loyalists. You can buy Little Caesars pizza _ which makes sense, since Tigers owner Mike Ilitch owns the pizza company _ and daily copies of the Detroit Free Press and Detroit News. Nothing much better than chain restaurants in the surrounding area, but what's wrong with chain restaurants? Grade: B

Port St. Lucie (Mets): For years, I heard horror stories from veteran writers about "Port St. Lousy" and "Port St. Lonesome." But since coming here in 2005, I've had no major beefs. Both the town and the ballpark _ and, I suppose, the Mets themselves _ have benefited from upgrades. Grade: B

Sarasota (Reds): The Reds might move out of here, but that speaks more to finances than the area itself, which is fine. Grade: B

Bradenton (Pirates): More than anything else, it smells like oranges here, thanks to this. Who doesn't love oranges? But not much of interest, otherwise. Grade: B-

Winter Haven (Indians): A charming, old-school ballpark (so old-school, however, that it didn't have wireless Internet access as of last year for hacks like myself) with pleasant crowds. Pretty surrounding area. Grade: B-

Dunedin (Blue Jays): Profoundly unmemorable in all regards. At least it's close to Tampa, Clearwater and St. Petersburg. Grade: C

Kissimmee (Astros): The surrounding area is pretty gross. The ballpark is serviceable. Sort of close to Disney, at least. Grade: C-

Fort Myers (Red Sox and Twins): Someone please explain to me what I'm missing here. I find this to be one of the more dreadful places in the country. How does it support an international airport? Naples, which is 45 minutes away and quite nice, must have more rich people than I realize. The two ballparks are good enough, but otherwise, it's a hellhole. Grade: D-

Viera (Nationals): The absolute pits. Terrible ballpark, terrible area, terrible team. Only for die-hard Nats fans. Grade: F

UPDATE: Okay, I'm at Space Coast Stadium as I type _ it's Saturday, at about 1:00 _ and this has become less awful since my last visit in 2000. They've built up the town a little bit. So I'll change the grade to a D+.

Feedback, as always, is encouraged. Have a great weekend.

When in doubt on how to format a blog entry, I've decided, just steal from Peter King.

1. I think Roger Clemens got smoked. He had no response to the testimony of Andy Pettitte and Laura Pettitte. An independent medical expert hired by Congress concluded that steroid usage likely caused the 1998 abcess on Clemens' buttocks. It looks as though Clemens might have tampered with a witness, a former nanny for his family, who contradicted Clemens' assertion that he didn't spend any time at Jose Canseco's Miami-area house in 1998.

Clemens came off as strong, but also less accountable than my 4-year-old son. Just like when he pitched, absolutely nothing was his fault. Here is my column on The Rocket.

2. I think that the House Oversighit and Government Reform Committee, despite its pathetic, partisan bickering, came off pretty good. In both the infamous Mark McGwire-Rafael Palmeiro hearing of 2005 and last month's love-vest of George Mitchell, Bud Selig and Don Fehr, the Committee members looked as if they entered the hearing room, sat down and said to themselves, "Oh, we're talking about baseball today? Who knew?!" But for this hearing, the Committee conducted a plethora of research, much of it helpful and downright fascinating. Check out all of it, if you have the time.

Should Congress be spending its time on this sort of stuff? No. Yet it's less offensive when the Committee at least does its homework.

3. I think I might move to the greater Scranton area. Not for the purpose of watching future Yankees, but so that I can vote for Congressman Paul Kanjorski.

Finally, a Congressman _ a Democrat, no less _ who wasn't willing to kiss Mitchell's proverbial ring. Kanjorski may not have had an honest agenda, given his get-together last week with Clemens, but he did himself well in challenging Charlie Scheeler, Mitchell's lead investigator who served as a human buffer between Clemens and McNamee.

Scheeler at first tried to say he and Mitchell had nothing to do with this dispute, but Kanjorski wasn't buying that. And when Kanjorski asked about this Canseco party incident, and how so many people contradicted McNamee's assertion that Clemens was there, Scheeler said that the Mitchell group wishes it could have spoken with Clemens, but Clemens refused.

Kanjorski, brilliantly, replied that he wished he could get testimony from God about what happened. But he couldn't.

Think about the arrogance of Scheeler's response: "Sure, we would've had a better report if the players had spoken with us. But they didn't, so we went with what we had." Imagine if I, as a reporter, told you, "I'm pretty sure this happened. I'd be more confident if I could have spoken with X player, but he wouldn't talk with me, so what could I do?" What I could have done, and what Mitchell perhaps should have done, is not go with the story.

Mitchell is going to come out all right here, because it's apparent that McNamee told the truth. Yet it's amazing _ and arrogant _ that he would rely so heavily upon McNamee. I know McNamee personally and believe him, but McNamee's past indiscretions would've given me great pause to pin such an important document on him.

4. I think Clemens, when asked repeatedly why he didn't meet with Mitchell, would've been better off parroting the logic of Players Association head Don Fehr in last month's Congressional hearing: That he didn't trust a process in which one man _ a profoundly conflicted man _ served as prosecutor, investigator, judge and jury. Even ranking minority member Tom Davis said, in his opening statement, said, "It's not hard to imagine why players like Roger Clemens might have opted to remain mum under this scenario."

Such a thought-out response would've played better than, "My stupid agents never told me."

5. I think the members made the right move letting Andy Pettitte and Chuck Knoblauch stay home. Their depositions spoke for them, and Pettitte became the day's star, in absentia. Having Pettitte and Knoblauch present would have simply elongated and watered down the proceedings.

6. I think it was interesting how little a presence Major League Baseball and the Players Association had in the room - one representative apiece. MLB asked one of its Washington lobbyists to essentially babysit the hearings. And union counsel Steve Fehr, the brother of Don Fehr, attended and took notes throughout the day.

7. I think we haven't seen close to the last of Clemens. He'll keep fighting this, with a defamation lawsuit against McNamee on deck, and perhaps there will be perjury charges coming. But I wonder if player support for Clemens will erode, now that someone as honorable as Pettitte has come out against him.

8. I think it's time for me to get ready for my flight to West Palm Beach, and I, like you fans, will probably shift my attention rather quickly to other matters. But yesterday's hearing won't soon be forgotten. It was one of the most surreal events in baseball history.

By the time many of you read this, the big event will already be underway, or perhaps even finished. I encourage here to post your thoughts here throughout the proceedings. For reasons more old-school than technological _ since the hearing room will be extremely crowded, I'll be using my Blackberry rather than my laptop, and it's difficult to get here via the Blackberry _ I'll probably wait until later in the day to check in.

Spring training can wait one more day. There's no place I'd rather be than here. You can rip Roger Clemens, Brian McNamee, Bud Selig, George Mitchell, Don Fehr, Congress, the attorneys, the media and anyone else, and probably with justification. But this is a can't-miss event.

Final pre-hearing thoughts:

I strive to not be thin-skinned about too many things in life, but here's an issue I'm still working through: I absolutely hate it when people assume I'm a Yankees fan, or a Mets fan, or a Red Sox fan, or a fan of any other baseball team.

This subject has come up recently here in the blog, so let me give you the CliffsNotes version of my evolution from fan to objective reporter. Much how Andy Pettitte backed up Brian McNamee, I'm confident that Steve from South Amboy and Jon E. can corroborate my testimony:

After attending my first ballgame at Shea Stadium on June 16, 1977 (with Steve, Jon and Jon's dad Al E.), as detailed here last year, I became a Mets fan. But when I got this Thurman Munson All-Star card in a pack that summer, I switched allegiances to the Yankees. I think I just loved all of the colors in the '77 Munson, from the red notating the captain's All-Star status to the orange block letters spelling "Yankees," to Thurman's busy mustache. I'm not even sure I understood, at age six, how much better the Yankees were than the Mets at that juncture.

Soon I did realize how awful Joe Torre's Mets were, but when Davey Johnson and Frank Cashen turned things around in 1984, I hopped on that bandwagon, while keeping my other foot on the Yankees' frustrating ride through the 1980s. The Mets' 1986 postseason ranks among my top memories from the decade. And as an older teenager, I went to more Mets games than Yankees games, even though I lived in New Jersey, because it felt safer to take the Long Island Railroad o Flusning than the New York City subway system to the Bronx.

College largely distracted me from the Yankees and Mets, and when Bud Selig canceled the 1994 World Series due to the work stoppage, I grew enraged and declared myself done as a fan. When the games returned in 1995, I paid no attention; for the first time since 1987, I didn't attend an Opening Day. I didn't even bother watching the Yankees' run to their first postseason since 1981, or the playoffs themselves.

As I rose up the ranks at The Record, however, I started to cover more baseball games, and I disliked the assignment at first, still angry at the game itself. In time, however I realized that a) writing about baseball would be a good career move, given the passion that New York area fans have it; b) I still enjoyed the actual game, itself, even if I no longer felt an allegiance to any specific team; c) I held a firm grasp of both the rules and the history.

And here I am now, my loyalties long buried. Just like a political reporter can't be choosing sides when covering an election, a good sports reporter roots only for a good story. When people accuse me of always taking one team's side, I consider than an insult.

So that's my tale. Jim, you mentioned recently that I must be a fan, or otherwise I'd be writing about politics, or traffic, or something else. Well, first of all, I kind of wound up where I did because I reported on sports in college, and that naturally brought me to covering sports professionally. Moreover, part of the reason I love writing about baseball so much is that it forces you to not only master not only baseball, but also gain an understanding of medicine, finance, law and myriad other topics. I'm in Washington right now, equally excited to cover two Congressional hearings as I am to hear the pop of ball against glove later this week.

But on the 26th, I'll be shouting (to myself), "Go Blue!" The Mets take on the University of Michigan (Fred Wilpon's alma mater, and mine, too) in an exhibition game. I could never cover the Wolverines, since I still do live and die with their results. In that case, I am most definitely a fan. But for no other sports team.

Today marks my departure for spring training, although I won't actually see a ballpark until Thursday. I'll arrive in Washington, D.C. late tonight and cover Congressional hearings the next two days. Tomorrow will be this hearing, which hasn't received much attention. That'll be a mere warmup for Wednesday's Roger Clemens-Brian McNamee showdown, with supporting roles filled by Chuck Knoblauch, Andy Pettitte and Kirk Radomski.

Clemens has been working Capitol Hill like an expert lobbyist, meeting with nearly half the members of the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee. As Jim Baumbach reported, it's pretty gross, these Congressmen and -women allowing themselves to be charmed by The Rocket.

But what Clemens' critics should realize is, Clemens is merely following the lead of his commissioner. Bud Selig, after all, chose George Mitchell to lead the steroids investigation because he knew how well that would play on Capitol Hill. And as we've learned, in real life and fine films (not really) like "Evan Almighty," our Congress leaves much to be desired regarding its behavior.

The Committee members didn't care that Mitchell carried four conflicts of interest into the investigation. They didn't care that Mitchell regarded due process as an inconvenience. As displayed last month, the members worshipped Mitchelll, his accomplishments and his star power.

So really, it would be irresponsible of Clemens to NOT utilize his star power in fighting the charges against him in the Mitchell Report. Selig is the one who turned his steroids investigation into a popularity contest - and to be clear, that wasn't an altogether horrible decision, either. Thanks to that move, after Wednesday, Congress will probably leave baseball alone for a while, even with Jose Canseco preparing his next masterpiece.

This Clemens-McNamee battle is beyond nasty at this point. It's funny how Selig wanted the Mitchell Report released during the offseason so as not to take away from on-the-field action. Yet this week, with pitchers and catchers reporting. Clemens will dominate industry conversation.

I believe that McNamee is telling the truth. But Clemens has every right to defend himself, even if he is guilty. And he might as well resort to the same tactics that got him in trouble in the first place.

Was called to duty today for Johan Santana's introductory news conference at Shea Stadium, so I figured I'd check in here, on what could prove to be a historic day for the Mets and their fans.

Years from now, will there be a call for the Mets to retire Santana's 57 uniform number?

We discussed the retired number issue last week with the Yankees, who _ due to their age, their success and the impetuous George Steinbrenner _ carry a lot more controversy on this subject. But there's room for debate within the Mets, as well.

The Mets have been conservative on this matter, limiting immortality to Gil Hodges' 14 (that's him on the left, for you youngsters), Casey Stengel's 37 and Tom Seaver's 41, as well as Jackie Robinson's 42. Willie Mays' 24 has largely been out of circulation, except for a bizarre cameo by Kelvin Torve in 1990 and Rickey Henderson's stints as a player and coach.

Hodges, Seaver and Stengel are all worthy of the honor, in my humble opinion. To those, I would add Keith Hernandez's 17 and Mays' 24 and, down the line, Mike Piazza's 31.

Hernandez was the heart and soul of the 1986 World Series champs. Throw in his contributions as a great broadcaster, and this is a no-brainer.

While Mays played with the Mets for only a season and a half, his success with the New York Giants should be celebrated, and the Mets are the National League progeny of the Giants and Dodgers. Give Willie the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it would be great to see him honored at a New York ballpark one more time.

Piazza's 31 hasn't been distributed since he left Flushing after the 2005 season, and you've got to figure his time will come when he makes the Hall of Fame. An easy call for perhaps the Mets' all-time best position player.

In a terriffic new book, "Mets By The Numbers," the great Howie Rose, in a foreword (Jon Springer and Matthew Silverman are the authors), suggests consideration for Dwight Gooden (16), Darryl Strawberry (18) and Jerry Koosman (36). I'd vote no on the first two; for all they did, their legacies are, sadly, as much about what they didn't do. I'm not old enough to remember Koosman's prime, so I can't opine with knowledge on that one.

And I'm pretty sure that many fans, particularly those in the young teenage girl demographic, would endorse retiring David Wright's number 5 today.

Thoughts?

I'm always happy to answer e-mail from readers, but I was surprised at the offense people took to this column. Mets fans resented the Yankees being included in the coverage of their huge acquisition of Johan Santana.

Even Matt Cerrone, who runs the highly successful Mets Blog, sarcastically referred to Santana as "Brian Cashman's generous, wonderful gift to the Mets."

I'm sorry, but in this instance, the Yankees were very much part of the story. Put simply, the Mets wouldn't have been able to acquire Santana if not for 1) Twins GM Bill Smith's slow trigger in accepting a short-lived Yankees offer topped by Phil Hughes and Melky Cabrera; and 2) the Yankees' and Red Sox's corresponding, declining disinterest in Santana.

It's not a slap at Omar Minaya, who couldn't have run these talks any better. It's just reality. Many acquisitions involve a pinch or more of luck, and this was one of them.

If you really want to have a deep conversation, know that the Mets needed Santana more than the Yankees did because the Mets have fewer quality arms in their farm system _ at least partly a byproduct of the Mets' refusal, in recent years, to pay over slot in the early rounds of the amateur draft.

You never want to be committing nine figures to a pitcher from another team, as the Mets will do today, contingent on Santana subsequently passing his physical. Pitching is such an unnatural act, and strange, unexpected things happen to the best of pitchers. If you have to spend that kind of money, you'd rather do it on someone you already have, whose emotional and physiologoical quirks you already fully know.

But that's a goal you can establish down the line. This is a time for Mets fans _ like regulars Howard, Poppy and Gary _ t