Baseball’s era of bad feelings deepened in the Northeast with the picture of Roger Clemens, Toronto’s $24.75-million-man, wearing that hideous blue-on-white uniform.

Not since Bobby Orr was allowed to make his final, gimpy-kneed appearances as a Chicago Black Hawk have fans in the region felt so betrayed. Venting has been lusty and easy. Finding the culprit, however, has proved more difficult.

Blame the Red Sox management, which in addition to losing the ace of its staff to a divisional rival reportedly (according to Clemens) is alienating other players, including its leading hitter.

Blame Clemens, who expected too much for too little. Just 40-39 since 1992, he earned about $500,000 a win. Not bad. He wanted a four-year contract, and more dough. Not worth it, said the Sox.

Contemporary sports, go figure.

Baseball judgments can be argued. What can’t be disputed is that no one looked good in the breakup of the Boston-Clemens 13-year affair. The pitcher was bitter, and left scowling. Sox management tried to appear dignified, but looked petty. Columnists in athletics’ cruelest town were merciless, some blaming poor stats and recurring injuries in the past four years on Ring Ding Roger’s lack of conditioning.

Sports, it has been said, mirrors society. The reflection in this one is ugly.

Baseball’s owners refuse to change the way players are compensated. Instead of rewarding them like other entertainers, based on their ability to increase business, owners follow a failed but well-worn pattern: absurd bidding wars for mediocre services.

Its stars follow the money.

A sport that quarantined its own ballparks for a season due to epidemic greed continues to lose respect and customers. They follow only their heart, and it’s leading them somewhere else.