Clemens' missed opportunity

Roger Clemens got an easy commute. Get on I-10 in the heart of his hometown of Katy, Texas, make a straight shot into downtown Houston, left on Texas, left on Crawford and there you are, Minute Maid Park, where the Rocket will be paid $12.6 million to play for his hometown Houston Astros for the rest of the season.

And for the rest of his life, he'll be stuck wondering what could have been …

Back in Boston. Back where it began. Back near the Back Bay where he struck out 20, where he won the first of his seven Cy Young Awards, where he first thrilled a fan base with the promise that his golden arm would end decades of futility.

He'll spend the rest of his life wondering what it would have been like to …

Take the hill in Fenway Park once again, that old "B" on his cap, in the middle of that one-of-a-kind rivalry with the New York Yankees, again pushing for October where that wonderful, chilly, see-your-breath New England air awaits, an entire town, a baseball town, in the palm of his hand one last time.

He'll wonder if that wasn't the way to end a storied, break-the-mold career.

But he got an easy commute. And more time at home. And maybe a chance to play with his son, Koby, an Astros farmhand.

Intellectually, we can't dismiss those things. You can't blame Clemens for staying put.

But, for any baseball fan who thrives on the game's history, its storylines, its legends, there was only one proper choice in Clemens' unique free agency – one where he waited until mid-season to choose a team and "unretire" – and that was Boston.

Clemens in Boston would have been the story of the year, pushing Barry Bonds' ridiculousness far out of mind. Every start would have been an event, every appearance an encore performance of energy and emotion.

Imagine Clemens returning to Yankee Stadium, once again on the other side of the game's best rivalry, haunting a club he stood up when he "retired" for a couple months in 2003, would have been must-watch television. It would have been a reverse Babe Ruth move.

Houston was an interesting story two years ago. Clemens' buddy Andy Pettitte signed with the club late in 2003 and when Clemens got sucked into the excitement around this long-slumbering franchise, the two of them declared the goal was the World Series, which was laughable until the Astros reached two consecutive playoffs, including last year's October Classic against the Chicago White Sox.

Clemens has always understood that there is more to a career than numbers. He has always seemed to be a sucker for great stories, too.

Now the Houston thing, at least to anyone who isn't an Astros fan, just seems played out. Houston went 11-19 in May and, 6½ games behind the St. Louis Cardinals in the National League Central, has little chance of winning the division. While the Astros are only four games out of the wild card, they are behind six clubs. Clemens will help, sure, but this is not likely to be a postseason team, which was supposed to be a criterion for his signing.

"He wants to have a chance to win in October, so that is very important," Clemens' agent, Randy Hendricks, told Yahoo! Sports last week. "Houston sure needs to reverse their recent trend."

Since Hendricks told me that, Houston has gone 2-5.

At this point, another year in Houston is just another year in Houston.

For all the dreamers out there, Clemens in Boston was tantalizing. The Rocket has always been about the big stage, the big spotlight, and nothing would have afforded it like a return to pitch for a fan base that once adored him, later hated him and was (mostly) ready to embrace him again.

It is almost impossible to imagine how big Clemens was in Boston in 1986, when he rocketed to a 24-4 record, a Cy Young and carried the Red Sox into the World Series against the New York Mets. Larry Bird had won three NBA titles, was nicknamed "Legend" and he wasn't any more popular than Clemens.

Rocket Roger owned the town. Despite the crushing loss to the Mets, Red Sox Nation believed he'd eventually lead them to glory. Only the World Series title never happened. By 1996, Clemens, slowed by nagging injuries and seemingly not in tip-top shape, left for more money in Toronto and the Red Sox turned to Pedro Martinez as their ace.

It was a bad breakup. Bad things were said, bad feelings lingered. It got worse two years later when Clemens signed with the Yankees, got in better shape, became a better pitcher and proceeded to win a World Series. In 1999, when Clemens was rocked in an American League Championship Series Game 3 matchup with Martinez, Fenway Park was venomous and all you could imagine Sox fans ever wanting from their once-beloved Rocket was a pound of flesh.

But in 2003, in the middle of a heated ALCS with the Yankees, Fenway gave the supposedly retiring Clemens a standing ovation. By 2006, Boston was willing to embrace him again, a live arm and a clubhouse leader joining what is already the AL East leader for another World Series. They too wanted to be a part of baseball's prodigal son story.

"He didn't leave Boston because of the fans or the current management, so the old days no longer count," Hendricks said. "He has a high regard for how Boston has handled this."

Only it didn't happen. Clemens is staying home, choosing ease over excitement, the same old, same old over a chance to rekindle old memories, relive old glory. You can't fault him there.

But for a guy who always seemed to covet that kind of drama, who always seemed to want to go out on top, you have to imagine he is going to have a lifetime of wondering what one more Fenway Fall would have been like.