How much do I hate Roger Clemens? Let me count the ways.

Clemens, the turncoat, Benedict Arnold of baseball, fled the hallowed confines of Fenway Park for the greener pastures (and better outfielders) of Toronto and then New York City. Come to think of it, I would rather have Benedict Arnold over for dinner than Clemens.

I hate the man.

I could accept the 300th victory and his dead-certain spot in the Baseball Hall of Fame (which I will visit this week). I could rationalize the trillions of dollars the Texan has made from his fastball. I could even forgive his World Series victories, which have eluded the Red Sox since 1918. (1918!)

I could even forgive him for throwing that bat at Mets catcher Mike Piazza, a year or two after he beaned him and almost killed him.

Any other pitcher, certainly any Red Sox pitcher, would have been thrown out for throwing a bat. Like on Oct. 10, 1990, when Clemens (still with the Red Sox) was thrown out of a playoff game for yelling at umpire Terry Cooney. If Clemens was wearing pinstripes and pitching in Yankee Stadium, the umpire would have apologized.

The New York teams always get the breaks in baseball, football and basketball. All you have to do is watch.

I hate the man.

All of this could have been forgiven.

If only Clemens had stayed in the infamous World Series game on Oct. 25, 1986, between the Red Sox and Mets. If only Clemens stayed on the mound after the seventh inning. If only the Red Sox had held on to their 3-2 lead and won the World Series that Rich Gedman, then Bill Buckner, let slip through their fingers. If only Calvin (deer in the headlights) Shiraldi didn’t come in for Clemens.

Years later, the manager says Clemens asked out of the historic game with a sore pinkie.

Clemens said the manager took him out. If Clemens had stayed on the mound and won the damned thing, we all would have forgiven him for the rest (well, I would have, anyway).

Instead, we seethe with silent rage as we watch another Clemens celebration (well, I do anyway).

I hate the man.

There are extenuating circumstances.

The Red Sox had a lousy bullpen and a lousy outfield in the last few years of Roger’s Boston career. He was only 40-39 from 1993 to 1996. Certainly, he would have won many more games with a better club.

Red Sox General Manager Dan Duquette, who somehow turned a baseball job into something boring, forced Clemens out of Boston. Duquette, who now runs a baseball camp for Little Leaguers, just where he belongs, claimed in 1996 that Clemens was “in the twilight of his career” and not worth the big money anymore (I might hate Duquette more than Clemens.)

Clemens’ “twilight” included contracts for $10 million a year with Toronto and New York, plus a Cy Young (for best pitcher) in 1997 and 1998 and a trade to the Yankees in 1999. The “twilight” then included the longed-for World Series victory in 1999 and 2000, plus another Cy Young in 2001.

To rub it in a little more, Clemens wins his 299th game against the Red Sox at Fenway Park.

Extenuating circumstances don’t matter.

I hate the man.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.