I won’t make too much out of this because when I read a couple of weeks ago that Roger Clemens had subpoenaed Congress in order to get notes and reports and whatever he could find, I didn’t think anything of it. But the Daily News makes a good point today: you can’t subpoena stuff from Congress that isn’t already a public record due to the immunity provided by the Speech and Debate clause to the Constitution.
And even if lazy ex-lawyers like me didn’t think about it at the time, Clemens’ lawyer Rusty Hardin should have because he’s been down this road before:
This is not Hardin’s first attempt to subpoena documents from a congressional committee. Hardin represented the giant auditing firm Arthur Andersen in 2002 when the company was indicted on obstruction of justice charges for shredding Enron-related documents.
The House Energy and Commerce Committee held a hearing on Andersen, which had signed off on Enron’s fraudulent finances for years. When Hardin tried to get documents from the Energy and Commerce Committee, as well as notes of an interview conducted with an Andersen employee who later became a cooperating witness for the Justice Department, he was denied. The committee refused to hand them over, and the federal judge presiding over the case refused to compel the panel to do so.
I suppose ineffective belt-and-suspenders subpoenas are harmless in and of themselves, but at some point I wonder if Clemens will ask himself how much money he’s willing to pay to avoid what will probably be three months in a minimum security federal camp. At the most. I’m sure his legal bill is into the millions already and I’ve seen criminal lawyers budget a full 50% for the actual trial and aftermath. At some point, you figure the vacation would do him some good, no?
The story of Rick Ankiel is well known by now. He was a phenom pitcher who burst onto the scene with the Cardinals in 1999 and into the 2000 season as one of the top young talents in the game. Then, in the 2000 playoffs, he melted down. He got the yips. Whatever you want to call it, he lost the ability to throw strikes and his pitching career was soon over. He came back, however, against all odds, and remade his career as a solid outfielder.
It’s inspirational and incredible. But there is a lot more to the story that we’ve ever known. We will soon, however, as Ankiel is coming out with a book. Today he took to the airwaves and shared some about it. Including some amazing stuff:
On drinking in his first start after the famous meltdown in Game One of the 2000 National League division series against the Braves:
“Before that game…I’m scared to death. I know I have no chance. Feeling the pressure of all that, right before the game I get a bottle of vodka. I just started drinking vodka. Low and behold, it kind of tamed the monster, and I was able to do what I wanted. I’m sitting on the bench feeling crazy I have to drink vodka to pitch through this. It worked for that game. (I had never drank before a game before). It was one of those things like the yipps, the monster, the disease…it didn’t fight fair so I felt like I wasn’t going to fight fair either.”
Imagine spending your whole life getting to the pinnacle of your career. Then imagine it immediately disintegrating. And then imagine having to go out and do it again in front of millions. It’s almost impossible for anyone to contemplate and, as such, it’s hard to judge almost anything Ankiel did in response to that when he was 21 years-old. That Ankiel got through that and made a career for himself is absolutely amazing. It’s a testament to his drive and determination.
A couple of weeks ago our president wrote one of his more . . . vexing tweets. He was talking about immigration when he whipped out the phrase . . . “Easy D”:
No one was quite sure what he meant by Easy D. Was it the older brother of N.W.A.’s founder? The third sequel to that Emma Stone movie from a few years back? So many questions!
Baseball Twitter had fun with it, though, with a lot of people wondering how they could work it in casually to their commentary:
It wasn’t a scout who did it, but twelve days after that, a player obliged Mr. McCullough:
I have no more idea what Turner was talking about with that than Trump was. We’ll have to wait for the full story in the L.A. Times. But I am going to assume Turner was doing McCullough a solid with that one rather than commenting on the president’s tweet. Either way, I’m glad he made the effort.
And before you ask: yes, it’s a slow news day.