On Reputation--Phyllis Diller's and Roger Clemens
by John Aquino on 08/22/12
When I first started these blogs, I wrote on the topic of reputation, especially as illustrated by the topic of a book and articles I had written on fictionalization in fact-based films.
I find my thoughts turning to reputation again with the death of Phylis Diller and the trial of Roger Clemens (along with his recent announcement of his return to baseball).
It was very touching to read all of these women comedians, actors, actresses, and fans writer about how well they remembered Diller and how much she had meant to them. Now, Diller's heyday was in the 1960s when she was on the Jack Parr and Johnny Carson shows, in movies like Boy, Did I Get a Wrong Number!, and in her tv shows The Pruitts of Southampton. I remember as a teenager being tickled by her risque and self-deprecating humor, like when she doing a tv spoof of the 1965 movie The Collector with Bob Hope, only at one point she tries to lock him in the room, takes the key puts it in her bodice, and we hear it go clank on the floor.
She was fun and she was memorable. But that was 40 plus years ago. And yet they did obituaries of her on news programs and in national newspapers. The fact that I remember the Collector spoof says a lot about her and something about me--then.
I felt the same thing when Richard Boone died. He had been in Have Gun, Will Travel in the late 1950s and early 1960s as the gun-for-hire Paladin, dressed in black, all six feet one of him. His next show was The Richard Boone Show which had the great playwright Clifford Odets as head writer. But soon his tv success faded, and he went back to doing what he had been doing before his television work--playing cowboy villains in movies like Big Jake (1971) opposite John Wayne.
When he died of throat cancer in 1981 at the age of just 63, he hadn't been doing too much. But the next morning the New York Times ran an obituary on him as if he were a statesman. Hollywood stars and producers who wouldn't have given him a part the day before sang his praises. What was happening was that people of my generation who grew up watching him play Paladin in Have Gun Will Travel turned out to have always remembered him.
Maybe Shakespeare had it reversed when he wrote in Julian Caesar "the evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones."
On the other hand, there's the story of Roger Clemens, the great pitcher for the Yankees and Rangers. I've been in New York and Austin, Texas recently and discussed him with relatives, who reacted much as the sports writers did in their columns the day after his trial ended: "I don't care what the jury said. He did it. He took steroids! He's guilty, and I will never vote to have him go into the Hall of Fame." Sports writers vote to have players admitted into the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.
And I said to myself--and my relatives--what does the guy have to do! He testified before Congress that he had never taken steroids while other players testifying admitted it or basically refused to answer. Some Congressman believed the trainer who claimed to have given Clemens steroids over Clemens--a shady guy, he kept syringes that reportedly had Clemens' blood in a can in his basement (for blackmail or was he just sentimental?)--and referred the matter to the U.S. Attorney who presented charges of perjury againt Clemens.
He could have plea bargained. Instead, he plead not guilty, insisting on his innocence, and risking five years in prison. Innocent people go to jail too, especially when the members don't like the defendant. It was a big risk for him. But he went ahead with it. The jury found him not guilty, which means with all of the government's resources it could not prove he had taken steroids and so could not prove he had lied about taking steroids. Clemens put himself on the line, he stood tough, and he endured.
And yet with all that, sports writers and my relatives aren't satisfied.
I mentioned my surprise to my Uncle Pat in Austin, and he said, "You have to understand that Clemens is not well liked." He described being at the ticket window for a game and having Clemens storm in, demand his tickets, and reduce the ticket agent to tears.
But I thought the point of the Hall of Fame was that it was the skill that mattered. Babe Ruth was fat and undisciplined, but, man, could he hit. Ty Cobb, who played the outfield for the Detroit Tigers for most of his playing career, was hated by his teammates, hated by the opposing teams, hated by the umpires, hated by the fans--when they would boo him he would run into the stands and beat him up. And yet when the Basebal Hall of Fame was started in 1936, the first player inducted into it was--Ty Cobb. His skill was so great it was undeniable.
Today's sports writers and fans should take a lesson from those of 1936. To paraphrase Shakespeare, Clemens' reputation is a "jewel" of great worth--seven Cy Young Awards, a lifetime 3.12 ERA, 4,672 strikeouts--and they should not be so cavalier about it, especially when the ruling of a court of law indicates that his skills were not enhanced by steroids but were indeed his own.
Copyright 2012 by John T. Aquino
