Commentary: Baseball working on art of the apology

There’s nothing like a good apology, especially when you know it comes straight from the heart.

Eric Gagne issued his Monday in two different languages, though if you had just come back from a few months climbing in the Himalayas you’d be hard-pressed to know just what he was apologizing for.

Even Gagne didn’t seem sure, and you would think he would be the one to know. Something about a “distraction that shouldn’t be taking place” was taking place and that “right now I just want to go forward.”

The French version, I’m told, was better, though even with four years of high school French I wasn’t able to quite get the translation down. I’m pretty sure, however, there was nothing in there about shooting up with human growth hormone to make sure his fastball didn’t flatten out and drop into the low 90s.

Gagne had to have been watching and taking notes a few days earlier when his former batterymate, and the guy who used to score HGH for him, issued his own mea culpa before beginning his new job as a $5 million a year catcher and role model for the Washington Nationals.

For that kind of money you would think Paul Lo Duca might be able to do better than a three-sentence statement apologizing for “mistakes in judgment I made in the past and for the distraction that has resulted.” Maybe even tell us if the details in the Mitchell Report about him buying steroids for his minor league teammates in 1999 and then going around the clubhouse to make sure his buddies had a fresh supply of HGH in the majors were true.

Apparently not. Like Mark McGwire, he just doesn’t want to talk about the past.

“Come on, bro’. Next question,” Lo Duca said.

Silly us for having the temerity to ask. Even sillier of us to actually expect an answer.

Who did we think he was? Andy Pettitte?

No, and as it turns out, not too many of his fellow Mitchellites are either. Jason Giambi never explained what he was apologizing for, Paul Byrd has developed a case of amnesia, Gary Matthews has never told us why he was sent HGH, and we haven’t heard a peep yet from Jose Guillen or Troy Glaus.

Miguel Tejada isn’t about to talk, and he made that clear Tuesday upon his arrival in camp for the Houston Astros. At least Tejada has an excuse, because anything he says could be used against him, as the FBI is already looking into whether he lied when interviewed by congressional investigators in 2005 on what he knew about steroids in the Orioles’ clubhouse.

Unfortunately we’ve heard way too much from Roger Clemens, but my guess is he’ll quiet down now following his disastrous appearance last week before Congress. It was his strident denials that brought Pettitte deeper into this mess than he was ever supposed to be, and his insistence on having a congressional investigation that led to some embarrassing revelations about family members of both pitchers.

That’s not excusing Pettitte for using HGH, or lying about it in his first statement when he said he used it only two days in 2002. But I find it believable when he said he lied about using it a second time two years later to protect his father.

Actually there’s a lot I found believable about Pettitte after watching him go before the media for an hour Monday and answer almost every question directed his way as honestly and thoroughly as he could. The only ones he didn’t answer dealt with Clemens, and Pettitte is already on the record in his congressional deposition on those facts.