Time Out

How quickly the complexion of a season can change.

Whatever the psychological makeup that is Roger Clemens, and whatever rationalization he can use to take the mound with an ailing shoulder against the powerful Oakland Athletics, all seemed to blend together last week to comprise the dangerous scenario that now faces the Sox and the rest of New England: finishing the season without the fiery right-hander.

Whatever Clemens has been in his brief tenure in Boston, he has remained independent and unpredictable, but his decision to keep medical personnel and management in the dark on his latest physical dilemma may turn out to be his fatal flaw.

Clemens’ attitude with the press and his often surly clubhouse nature have left a wake of skepticism behind his lofty pitching accomplishments that finally may be superseded by his childish attitude toward competition at all costs.

If he, in fact, wants to join baseball’s elite like Canseco, Henderson, Mattingly and Ryan, in terms of salary, then he must begin to demonstrate some restraint physically in preparation for his turns on the mound — restraint that requires more forethought than overexertion and macho routines of rigorous exercise to achieve his goals.

Quite frankly, there’s more at stake here than mere numbers for the Texas right-hander. I think most clubhouse observers would tell you after this episode that Clemens’ whole demeanor may mellow somewhat as he has clearly jeopardized the possibilities of a huge cash flow for his teammates by his silence on a shoulder problem that he admits has bothered him for at least four or five weeks.

But the problem goes deeper than Clemens’ tendinitis, for the nature of today’s athlete is such that he seems to find its epicenter within himself what does this mean? the nature finds its epictr in him? bleugh.. Contract negotiations are clearly out of hand at all levelsso’s yer prose. And although the pay-for-play syndrome has been with us for some time, the salaries commanded by even mediocre players border on the ridiculous.

Ironically, Clemens’ unwillingness to step forward and admit pain in his arm placed him in a more dangerous bracket: He simply didn’t want to give in to something that could represent a threat to his lofty status on the team. That, my friends, may be more selfish than any contract war with management. By withholding such valuable information, he risked missing the season, and thus he affects the financial futures of 39 other men and their families.

That type of attitude is inexcusable.

I have felt for some time that the only thing separating Roger Clemens from the great ones is a swift kick in the pants. If he and the Red Sox are fortunate enough to survive this latest setback, perhaps someone such as general manager Lou Gorman will administer the blow, placing it somewhere that will remain a constant reminder to Clemens that baseball is a team game. It’s a game played from the neck up, he should be told, and those who fail to follow these simple axioms usually play it at a lower level where psychological and physical injuries often go by untreated, regardless of severity.

Ron Brown is a free-lance writer and high school basketball coach who lives in Bangor.