You're really giving him air time?

Just throw out the Mitchell Repot. No one needs it. It doesn't prove anything.

"It just didn't happen," said Roger Clemens — again, and again, and again.

I watched the most prolific pitcher of this era sit down on 60 minutes Sunday and tell the world that lies are printed throughout the Mitchell Report. Excuse me, lies about Clemens are printed. He said he was shocked to hear about his good, close friend Andy Pettitte had used illegal performance-enhancing drugs — as printed in the Mitchell Report.

I could go on and on slying mocking the Clemens interview, but I'm going to cut myself off there because Clemens proved nothing, I'm proving nothing, and George Mitchell proved nothing.

It's all a show for the media and fans. In the grand scheme of things, the entire era is tainted. Everyone is guilty. Every player knows there were guys doing steroids in the clubhouse. Hell, everyone uses some type of performance-enhancer anyway, whether it's legal or not.

All any player had to do to save face is to accept Mitchell's invitation to speak to him for the report and tell him upfront that I will only talk about myself. My answer pertaining to any other person will be, "No comment." There's no legal obligation to speak to Mitchell, so there's no legal obligation to answer all his questions if one did speak to him. Then, if you're innocent, say as much so your side of the story is in print next to anyone else's story about you. There's nothing anyone can do to you at that point.

These guys are getting paid millions of dollars to play a game we played as boys. They should have an obligation to the game and to the fans to make sure an officially printed MLB document is as fair and balanced as possible. If asked to speak, speak. Mitchell was not some ragtag nutjob scrambling to straighten his extra wide green tie over his baby blue suit as he shuffles in the courtroom to represent Bobby Joe Trailerparkson in a civil action suit against Quiktrip for serving half and half that doesn't open smoothly enough to prevent Bobby Joe from staining his black Tuesday wifebeater undershirt. Mitchell was hired by the friggin' commissioner of Major League Baseball! Have enough scruples to cooperate and speak the truth in a respectable setting so that the league that has taken care of you since you entered it at the ripe age of 18 can print important statements accurately! It's not hard to do. Sheesh!

And so, Roger "The Rocket" Clemens did not do as such. And here he sat, across from Mike Wallace, getting grilled in front of a national TV audience having nothing to say except, "It just didn't happen." Your time to speak has come and gone. Now, the sputtering ramblings of a 45-year old, 3-time retiree clamoring for a little respect give one the same cringed face as when our grandfathers told us about the 10-mile, uphill snow hike they endured to school every day — both ways.

Let's face it, the entire era of baseball is guilty. Not one player got up to defend himself when the official forum presented itself. Everyone is tainted. Nothing can be done about it now. Don't embarrass the game any further.