My new friends from The Associated Press took this photo of my baseball cards. Before the prosecution shit their pants, and while on recess, I held the door for a sweating Clemens, which suddenly put me alone with him in a long hallway on the 6th floor of the courthouse. With the wisdom of editor/baseball player Jeff Lewandowski bolstering my confidence—“The answer is always no if you don’t ask.”—I had this interaction with Clemens.
Me: Hey Roger, good luck. I'm rooting for you.
RC: Thanks man.
Me: I don't mean to bother you, but...
RC: (Interrupting) Sure, no problem. I'll sign it (card below).
Me: I know you're really busy.
RC: (Smiles, but doesn’t laugh.)
Me: This whole case is bullshit and I hope you kick their asses.
RC: (Nods) Thanks buddy, I appreciate it.
Me: Thank you.
Okay, this sounds all well and good—I met the shark in open waters and he didn't bite—but Roger may quickly turn his missteps into something like the three trials of Oscar Wilde. You see, the card was worth about $20. When he took it from me, he left a drop of sweat on the card, which caused a blemish (near his 1985 left eye); thus lowering the card's value to around $10. A second later he signed the card increasing the value by about $400. So, you can see where I’m a victim. What should be a $420 Clemens signed rookie is now worth only $410 thanks to his sweaty mistake. It’s irrelevant that I will never sell the card. What is relevant is that there is a small claims court a long fly ball from U.S. District Court for matters such as this. So, don't be surprised to see Reichert v. Clemens on the docket when he's done getting off the Fed's hook.