City Paper is not for tourists
The latest break: Yesterday’s Boswell column, written after Day One of the Roger Clemens trial, predicted direness out the wazoo for the allegedly steroidal pitcher.
When Roger Clemens walked into Courtroom 16 of the District’s federal courthouse Wednesday, he saw a long, wood-paneled room with seats for jurors and, at the far end, the tall chair of U.S. District Judge Reggie B. Walton — about 60 feet 6 inches away.
If Clemens didn’t shiver, he has no grasp of the odds against getting out of this jam.
Fab writing, as usual. Boswell went on to wonder if “a jury can deliver a verdict of really, really, really guilty?” and said after the opening statement from the prosecution and all the “incriminating physical evidence of stupefying quantity to support its perjury charges, I was ready to bake Roger a large cake with a hacksaw inside it.”
Well, bake that cake, TB.
But hold the hacksaw!
As the world now knows, the ink on Boswell’s typing was barely dry before Judge Reggie B. Walton threw out the government’s case.
The columnist’s words haven’t become so obsolete so fast since Boswell’s summary on what Joe Gibbs’ intentions were at the end of the Washington Redskins 2007 season.
While declaring himself a “Gibbsologist,” Boswell typed: “Joe Gibbs not only wants to stay as Redskins coach next season, he wants a contract extension from owner Daniel Snyder.”
Gibbs quit that day.
If Boswell writes the “Dave McKenna Has No Chance of Hitting Powerball!” column, I’ll give him half.
By the time the prosecution finished its opening statement in United States v. Clemens, listing incriminating physical evidence of stupefying quantity to support its perjury charges, I was ready to bake Roger a large cake with a hacksaw inside it.
When the feds bring out photos of syringes with traces of steroids in them and say that the DNA belongs to you “to the exclusion of all other people on the planet,” it’s not a good start to the day. Can a jury deliver a verdict of really, really, really guilty?