Mark Wilson/Getty Images

Here’s the thing, this never had to happen.  At the very least Roger Clemens had three chances to save himself from a federal indictment for allegedly lying to Congress.  But he willingly walked himself into an opportunity to incriminate himself.   Who does that?  This, in my opinion, is the definition of stupidity.

Ask yourself for a second, if you knew your henchmen had a sizable pile of evidence against you, but they gave you an option to avoid legal trouble, wouldn’t it be wise to walk away?

Clemens could have done that.  But he asked for the hearing which put him in a dangerous situation by his choice.  Then, as investigators would have you believe, he tried to bullsh*t his way out of it, essentially making a hole of his digging even deeper.  Who does this? 

Clemens says he’s completely innocent and looks forward to his day in court, which means at the very least we’ll be subject to more rounds of his sanctimonious denials.  Here’s my take and the lesson that ought to be learned.   If you mess up,even a little, fess up.  Does anybody talk about Andy Pettitte admitting he took performance enhancing drugs anymore?  No.  But they’ll be talking about Roger Clemens forever; not so much because of The Rocket’s alleged steroid use, but because of his insistence to waste lawmakers’ time and taxpayers’ money in a ridiculous spectacle.

I welcome your comments on the matter.

Shaq does everything extra large.  Big body, big entertainer, a human quote machine.  Need sound, find Shaq.  You can’t miss him.  

A bunch of us in the Boston media are maneuvering to give him a nifty nickname so we can coin it.  I thought I said The Big Shamrock first, but I’ve heard at least three other people say it too–including Gary Tanguay–so I guess it’s not original enough.  My colleague Kyle Draper suggested The Big Leprechaun.  That’s a good one.  It might have legs taller than the logo on the parquet at The Garden.  If The Big Leprechaun sticks, Draper I’m sure will annoy me constantly about how clever he was for having come up with it.

The basketball heads are fighting about whether Shaq is a good fit for the Green Team, or just a clog on an aging team.  My thoughts: it’s a PR boon and it just might be the difference in putting the C’s over the top.  Really what’s the risk?  He’s only signing for the veteran’s minimum.  If it doesn’t work, release him.  There is no risk.  We’ll all be watching.

Larry Busacca/Getty Images

Like I said in my last post, it ain’t over.  Not ten minutes after my previous post, a heavy letter from a very disappointed Cleveland Cavaliers owner eviserating Lebron James crossed my computer screen. 

It appeared in the Cleveland Plain Dealer.   The entire letter from Dan Gilbert is listed below, but a few lowlights:  Dan Gilbert called Lebron James and his decision to join the Miami Heat as “a cowardly betrayal” and a “shocking act of disloyalty.”   In reference to how Lebron ultimately informed him and tens of millions of others, Gilbert called it a ”narcissistic, self-promotional build-up culminating with a national TV special of his “decision” unlike anything ever “witnessed” in the history of sports and probably the history of entertainment.

Gilbert may be right about the obnoxious self-promotion, but he was dead wrong to send that letter out.  Never send out an angry letter, or email.   I can’t tell you how many past colleagues have written emails that they’d love to have back, especially after the message was forwarded to many more people.  Give yourself a day to cool off.  

Dan Gilbert has every reason to be mad at Lebron.  Bad news is best delivered when it’s done directly and privately.  To find out your best employee is leaving at the same time the rest of the world is learning it too is disgraceful on Lebron’s part.

He should have known better, or someone should have told him.  Read the letter below.  It’s enough to make paint peel off of walls.   

CLEVELAND — Cavs owner Dan Gilbert fired back sharply to LeBron James after James announced he was leaving Cleveland for Miami.

In an open letter to Cavs fans distributed to the media, Gilbert called James “a former hero” and his decision “a cowardly betrayal.”

“Some people think they should go to heaven but NOT have to die to get there,” Gilbert wrote. “Sorry, but that’s simply not how it works.”

The letter in its entirety:

Dear Cleveland, All Of Northeast Ohio and Cleveland Cavaliers

As you now know, our former hero, who grew up in the very region that he deserted this evening, is no longer a Cleveland Cavalier.

There is so much more to tell you about the events of the recent past and our more than exciting future. Over the next several days and weeks, we will be communicating much of that to you.

You can take it to the bank.

Courtesy: Larry Busacca/Getty Images for Estabrook Group

I have Lebron fatigue and I don’t think I’m the only one.  But I, like everyone, else need to suck it up because it isn’t over.  Just because he made his decision about where he’s going hardly means it’s the end of the story.  It’ll be talked about, and talked about, and talked about for a long, long time. 

I can certainly respect his decision to seek a new challenge in a new place.   The greatest personal and professional growth often comes when one summons the courage to leave their comfort zone.  For Lebron, there’s been no other home than the Greater Cleveland/Akron area.  Reward doesn’t come without risk.  Lebron’s not risking it all, but he’s risking plenty emotionally.

What’s most interesting, I think, is the impact on the NBA in general.  It gives the league a charge.  Man did it ever need it.  I don’t know if the Heat will win an NBA title right away, but I’m pretty sure the team will grab a couple before the new Big Three is done in South Beach.

Fishing for Autographs

I went down to the farm yesterday to chat up future Red Sox big leaguers.  It’s nice to get out of the studio every now and then, so I welcomed the ”designated for assignment” term that’s used when big leaguers are sent down.  McCoy Stadium in Pawtucket is a nice place and the clubhouse is miles away better than Fenway Park’s clubhouse.  But really, which clubhouse would you rather be in?

You see things at minor league games that you just don’t see in the bigs.  Autograph seekers here are fishers rather than barkers.  Instead of shouting at a player and begging for his signature, some dangle the goods over the dugout.  I like this one, a milk jug on a shoestring, with a baseball and a Sharpie placed inside.  Others drop down mesh bags or clipboards with baseball cars attached.

Lars Anderson/Pawtucket 1B

Lars Anderson, a surfer dude from inland Northern California signed happily after he finished up a conversation with a newspaper reporter.  Could you see this happening at Fenway Park, Yankee Stadium, or Citzens Bank Park?  Neither can I.

Mandi is a hockey player at Yale.  What was so nice was how articulate her 18-year-old younger brother was in giving the shoutout.  It was just enough to let viewers know how much he cared about her, and what she was going through, without disrupting the flow of the interview.  That took a lot of poise and maturity beyond his years.  The Twitter world went nuts after he said it.

Courtesy: David Silverman/dspics.com

And Jaden did something else, he got the plug in for how viewers can help.  Again another tricky thing, but Jaden delivered the website address for potential donors to register.  Honor Jaden’s sister like he did.  Who knows?  You could be the match that saves her life, or the life of someone else.  Log on to www.becomemandishero.org.

Courtesy: Michael Cohen/Getty Images

Regardless of how he plays in the US Open, 30-year-old pro golfer Erik Compton has the heart of a champion.  He’s a good man with a healthy perspective on life, despite a life of mostly poor health.  I interviewed Erik ten years ago when he was on his second heart, a gift from a 15-year-old girl who was killed in a drunk driving accident. 

Erik was a part of the first draft of my recently published book, The Marrow in Me.  Of course back then it wasn’t called that and there were other elements in addition to my bone marrow donation to a 16-year-old boy.  The book was originally called Sharing Life.  In addition to my story, I wrote a chapter about Erik.  I also included stories of kidney and pancreas transplants.  I dropped the stories other than my own and revised the title at the advice of my then literary agent. 

I always wondered what would become of Erik as he pursued his dream to play the PGA Tour. We saw with Erik what we’ve seen with a lot of other star amateur golfers–not much professional success.  Despite winning a handful of mini-tour events, Erik largely disappeared from major golf coverage while his health deteriorated.

While fishing three years ago he suffered a heart attack and came within a whisker of dying.  He pulled through, but his second heart was kaput.  He put off pro golf, sold his equipment, and prepared for a new life with a second heart transplant if; of course, he were lucky enough to get it.  He did, a very healthy heart from a college volleyball player who died in a motorcycle accident.

Courtesy: Cannon/Getty Pictures

When Erik’s health came back, so did his desire to play golf again.  He played well enough to qualify for the US Open at Pebble Beach, his first major.  Even if Erik never reaches the level of stardom so many thought he would when he was once the best junior golfer in America, he’s shown enough heart to fill the Hallmark aisle at CVS.  That’s more than enough for me.

My pal and fellow author Lorraine Ranalli came to town to promote her wildly entertaining book Gravy Wars.  I was sitting next to her nibbling on a pesto pizza in Bertucci’s when a man came in to get one signed.  “You paisan?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said as they chatted about sauce vs. gravy semantics and origins. 

Afterward I strolled over to Fenway Park and saw a Philadelphia paisan whose Philly attytude spills over like gravy off the sides of a wooden spoon.  It was St. Joseph’s Basketball Coach Phil Martelli, minus 40 pounds.   Then I saw Phillies announcer Tom McCarthy who looked like he lost some weight too.  “I don’t eat the ice cream at Citizens Bank Park anymore,”  he said.  ”It’s Turkey Hill you know.” 

Kevin (left), with St. Joe's Coach Phil Martelli

I know, I had plenty of it when I covered the Phillies for Sportsnet in Philly.

Even Ryan Howard looked a good 20-30 lighter than the last time I saw him.   Hey I’m proud of them all, but when familiar faces look noticeably slimmer, you wonder if it might be time for you too to shed a few. 

Phillies First Baseman Ryan Howard

And then there was a couple of dudes from South Jersey, which (surprise!) included two paisans, who hopped in the car spur of the moment and drove 5 1/2 hours to check out the weekend series.  The Sox promptly dropped 9 runs on starter Jamie Moyer, who didn’t get out of the second inning as the Sox whupped the Phillies 12-2 in Game 1.  Game 2 wasn’t much better.  Fortunately for the Phils and their traveling fans they squeeked out a win in Game 3 before moving on to New York to play the Yankees.

A largely non-successful Phillies series in the Bean on the scorecard mattered little to the traveling faithful.   It was non un gran problema as Italians might say.  The thrill was just being there.  And considering the South Jersey boys had a Red Sox tour guide to show them around Fenway Park, that made it an embarrassment of riches.  Abundanza!

South Jersey Fellas

The scenario, Tigers’ Pitcher Armando Galarraga was down to his last out in a perfect game.  Watch the video and you will totally understand what I’m talking about. 

Kirthmon Dozier/Detroit Free Press

Shortly after the game umpire Jim Joyce asked to speak to Galarraga.  Below is the account from The Detroit Free Press.  

Galarraga said Joyce told him, “I’m so sorry in my heart. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I told him, ‘Nobody’s perfect,’ ” Galarraga said. “What am I going to say?”

Galarraga said that — “nobody’s perfect” — without any irony or sarcasm with a smile as big as a prom queen’s.

I can’t think of a classier ending to what was an awful incident.  Both men truly gave us a teachable moment.

Born the son of a gold miner in South Africa, Gary lost his mother to cancer when he was a child.  He really had nothing to start out with other than love and encouragement from his brother and sister and later his father.  That, it turns out, was all he needed.  What you will take away from it is the green light to go for whatever it is you want out of golf, or life.  The point is, have a plan, stick to it, go for it will every ounce of courage you have in your body and accept whatever the result.  While you can’t always control the result, you can always control the effort and the attitude.  That of course is the point.

Gary Player also talks about something else that is a crisis in our country, obesity.  Player plays the fat card and says it’s a tragedy what’s becoming of fitness and nutrition in the USA.  Much of what he says is consistent with what a lot of us see and feel but don’t have the courage to say out loud for fear that we’ll hurt someone’s feelings.  Enough already, look around, we’re in trouble.  And when a guy of Gary Player’s commitment to fitness and healthy eating says it, the ”call out” carries more weight.

Timing is everything in life.  Reading Gary Player’s Don’t Choke book came at a time when I’ve been frustrated with much of what I’ve seen around me.  Let me give you one example.  Soccer is in season and wouldn’t you know it, the ice cream truck driver in my town must have the practice schedule of every team in our league.  Every practice he shows up with that annoying music blaring, disrupting the kids’ concentration.  I’m not kidding, many of the kids are distracted by the visual of the park trucked right next to the field.  They’re more concerned about when practice will be over and what they’re going to get.  It’s as if it’s a given they will get their ice cream, regardless of the effort. 

“I can’t stand when he comes by,” one child’s mother told me.  “He’s always here and it’s as if you have to buy it.” 

No you don’t.  There’s a powerful word in our vocabulary that we’re becoming increasingly afraid to use–no.  No you can’t have it.  No you haven’t earned it.  No you won’t die if you don’t have it. 

I like ice cream, a lot.  I have it once a week, sometimes twice if I have moment of weakness.  I’ve had a couple of those lately.  But I’m going to try to be better and say no more often my own cravings and those of my kids.  It takes courage to no to yourself and especially your kids, but it’s the right thing to do.  So in essense I’m going to play the Gary Player card.