Roger Clemens has always had a reputation among sportswriters for playing fast and loose with the truth. Will McDonough, the late and legendary Boston Globe sports columnist, called him the "Texas con man" long before Clemens' integrity was called into question on something as major as his alleged use of performance-enhancing drugs. Still, what Clemens said was never exactly what you got, or at the very least was open to question.

When he was in Boston, he took a lot of flak, for example, after being heard complaining about having to carry his own bags, but he later denied ever saying that. Then there was the more important question of why he left the 6th game of the 1986 World Series after seven innings--with the Red Sox ahead of the New York Mets 3-2 (as well as 3 to 2 in games) and on the cusp of their first championship in 68 years. The bullpen collapsed, setting the stage for Bill Buckner's infamous gaffe and a Mets World Series triumph. Red Sox manager John McNamara would later insist that Clemens had asked out with a blister, though Clemens denied it.

When he departed the Red Sox as a free agent, he said his major motivation was being closer to his family in Texas, then signed the biggest money offer--which happened to come from one of the few teams, Toronto, that was further away from Texas than Boston. Two seasons later, he forced his way out of Toronto and on to the Yankees. When he retired from the Yankees, he took the car and the gifts in a moving ceremony--and of course soon unretired to play with Houston, the first of his three non-retirements.

And now we're asked to believe his version of very important events, as offered to Mike Wallace on "60 Minutes" last night. Clemens had the home-field advantage not to mention an interviewer with whom he had a friendly relationship and who, at 89, can no longer bring it or mix up his pitches very effectively. Still, Clemens was not at all convincing. In fact, he came across more as someone aggrieved that his standout career didn't entitle him to the benefit of the doubt from everybody than as a man who could effectively rebut the allegations made by his former trainer, Brian McNamee.

Even though Wallace didn't follow up with the toughest questions, those question were in the air and Clemens didn't really take a swing at them. He didn't explain why, in his initial videotaped statement denying the allegations in the Mitchell Report, he didn't mention those legal injections given him by McNamee that were now at the core of his defense. He didn't explain the medical efficacy of the purported injections of the painkiller lidocaine and the vitamin B-12, which medical experts have questioned. He didn't explain why McNamee would lie about him, except to suggest it was "to stay out of prison", though it appears to be quite the opposite--that McNamee is in jeopardy of going to jail only if he didn't tell the truth. Finally, he had no coherent response to why his close friend and training partner, Andy Pettitte would acknowledge the truth of McNamee's allegation that Pettitte used HGH except to say they are two separate cases though they are anything but that.

I certainly understand Clemens' distress. Overnight, courtesy of the Mitchell Report, he went from being a revered American icon to the mound counterpart to slugger Barry Bonds. Yet with all that is at stake, he never even took the offensive and denounced McNamee a liar. We are left to wonder if that is because McNamee's lawyer threatened a defamation of character lawsuit (UPDATE: Clemens beat him to the punch, filing a defamation suit against McNamee today) and that Clemens could never make that charge stick under oath. And, of course, with Pettite and others under oath too.

Clemens seems to think the public owes him because he was the greatest pitcher of the modern era when how he became the greatest pitcher of the modern era is exactly what is in question now. And his whiff on "60 Minutes" portends an even bumpier time of it for Rocket Roger next week when he is expected to appear--under oath--before a Congressional committee.