This Just In: Roger Clemens Makes Decent People Spit

H/t, Epic Carnival, tipping SI, who found this on Debbie Clemens' Web site...

Roger came to me one day and told me that we had been asked to do a photo shoot for Sports Illustrated. I had major anxiety! I was a 39-year-old mother of 4! Once I realized that this WAS going to be a reality, I decided I had to give it everything I had. My mind was set. I am not a risk taker, but have since learned that with great risk, sometimes comes great reward. The responses from that experience have been wonderful and I feel it was a turning point in my life. It's nice to have a goal for yourself and to see it through. The goal kept me motivated and focused. Using common sense and my ability to balance my life, I achieved that goal.

Let's leave alone the idea that achieving your goal means being masturbation fodder, because if that's your goal, well OK then. I suppose we should all be thankful you didn't go into music or literature.

But as for the common sense and achievement... Sure you did, sweetheart. And as anyone with a functioning cerebrum and eyesight can tell, the HGH that was ALLEGEDLY shot into your freaking thighs, that we can more or less make out in this photo, all so that your husband could not only get into the magazine that more teenage boys have wanked to than any other, with his wife and the mother of his kids looking like she had Barbaro-esque leg tendons? All to the good! And I'm sure, entirely your idea!

Let me break this down for the non-procreating among us. If and when you get to see the woman that loves you enough to bear your child actually produce it, it changes you -- or at least, IT FREAKING SHOULD.

Maybe this makes me King High Wuss and All, but having a kid is a profound sacrifice, one that can be life-threatening, and will most certainly be life-altering, even if you're a braindead celeb who is just going to hand the kid off to a nanny and go work tirelessly to get Your Old Body back.

In my case, after having kids, I started to get the long-overdue realization that maybe my rutting may not be the only, or even the most important thing, in the history of the universe. (Crap, I just lost all of the self-players who found the site from that photo. Oh Well.)

Maybe, horror of horrors, you even become a little more tolerant of physical imperfections, since they really don't matter a whole hell of a lot in the face of what this woman has done for and with you. (Don't mind me. I'm also the freak that thinks that women with preposterous implants aren't sexy.)

But no, no, no... in this, as in so many other things, Roger Clemens is just BETTER than you and me! He doesn't tolerate his wife and the mother of his four kids not having a hardbody at 39! Not when he's still out there in the public eye, being the best damn pitcher that ever lived! He got where he is by not just having a right arm on loan from a higher plain, he got there by having the mental toughness to bear down and get potentially dangerous and mind-numbingly unnecessary drugs shot into his wife, like she's a prize hog at the State Fair.

Of course, on some level, Debbie Clemens knew what she was getting into; it's not like one lies down with a guy like Clemens without being, well, a girl like Clemens. Pimping for a cell phone is, clearly, not the last time this woman went for the degradation. So at best, they are equal partners in awfulness.

There are times in your life when you realize that these athletic heroes aren't just like you and me.

They're actually much, much worse.