Wallace pitches, but will Clemens deliver?
By DAVID BARRON
After excelling over the last quarter-century as one of baseball's
greatest pitchers, Roger Clemens competes tonight in a different
league.
At age 45, he makes his debut in the sport of high-wire public
relations damage control. His stakes are considerable — a career, a
reputation, a legacy. His contemporaries on this field of play are the
likes of Don Imus, Michael Richards, Martha Stewart, Rafael Palmeiro,
Sherron Watkins and, yes, Richard Nixon and Bill Clinton.
His arena, appropriately, is the Yankee Stadium of tight-focus,
white-knuckles, center-stage hardball — the relentless, tick-tick-tick
that is CBS News' 60 Minutes.
And this time, Clemens isn't the guy with the ball in his hand, staring
down the batter. He faces Mike Wallace — America's unofficial grand
inquisitor — and 14 million lesser inquisitors watching at home. The
outcome rests in their hands, not his.
As CBS tonight airs excerpts from Wallace's Dec. 28 interview with
Clemens, cited in Major League Baseball's Mitchell Report as having
used banned performance-enhancing substances to fuel his
record-breaking career, the Rocket embarks on a journey taken by many
image-challenged public figures. He has chosen perhaps the toughest
path toward rehabilitation and reconciliation.
"Will he be able to answer the questions posed to him in a way that is
credible?" said Robert Thompson, director of the Center for the Study
of Popular Television at Syracuse University. "If he does, forget the
seven Cy Young Awards. That will be his great accomplishment."
Clemens' appearance tonight is a significant moment for professional
sports, but it's old hat for the likes of Wallace, Barbara Walters and
Larry King. It's also well-plowed ground for the pros who make their
living managing public perception and opinion.
Among the most accomplished practitioners in this realm are the
principals of Levick Strategic Communications, a Washington, D.C.-based
firm whose members have consulted on such matters as pet food and
imported toy recalls, the travails of Rosie O'Donnell or the status of
Guantanamo Bay detainees.
The Levick firm and its counterparts have so quantified the game of
crisis PR that Clemens' response fits into a well-established category
— the "Run to the Light" offense, said Gene Grabowski, a senior vice
president at Levick.
"That means that if you're innocent or if you've got something
favorable to say, you go to the light and tell your story," Grabowski
said. "In that sense, Roger Clemens is behaving like a man with nothing
to hide."
Thompson recognizes the same theory, albeit with a less elevated
description.
"It's the same theory adopted by most 4-year-olds — deny, deny, deny,
and that's my story and I'm sticking to it," he said. "And anyone who
has ever caught a 4-year-old red-handed knows how incredibly effective
that can be. You reach a rhetorical dead end."
Crisis management lesson
Lawyers describe it as the Richard "Racehorse" Haynes defense, as
elaborated by the esteemed local attorney regarding a theoretical
dog-biting accusation: "My dog doesn't bite. And second, in the
alternative, my dog was tied up that night. And third, I don't believe
you really got bit. And fourth, I don't have a dog."
However one describes this particular approach to crisis management,
Clemens' attempts to put it in play face a problem, and its name is
Andy Pettitte, his friend, teammate and training partner.
Pettitte, like Clemens, is cited in MLB's Mitchell Report as having
received banned substances from former trainer Brian McNamee. He
subsequently acknowledged using human growth hormone while recovering
from a 2002 injury (in effect, employing the "Rip Off the Band-Aid"
variation of the "Run to the Light" offense).
"Andy Pettitte has established that Brian McNamee is credible,"
Grabowski said. "So now, the task facing Roger Clemens is to set a tone
and to show that he is credible. His second task is to undermine the
credibility of Brian McNamee."
Viewers already received a brief peek at Clemens' efforts in that
regard. In a clip released by CBS, he three times answers "Never" when
asked whether McNamee injected him with banned substances, and when
Wallace asks him, "Swear?" he replies, "Swear."
Public response to Clemens may swing in large part on how he presents
himself on camera. Wallace, who interviewed Clemens in 2001 and has
described himself as a friend of Clemens, told the New York Times that
the pitcher "was first-rate and forward with me," and Grabowski said he
would have advised Clemens to approach the interview in similar
fashion.
"He has a long-established reputation as a tough guy and a tough
competitor," Grabowski said. "Our advice would have been not to seek a
nice guy image.
"Circumstantial evidence is against him, so he needs to demonstrate
that he has credibility, which is why I think you will see him show up
and say, 'Yeah, maybe I am a tough competitor, and maybe I do anything
it takes to win, but that is the very reason you should believe me. I
am a standup guy.' "
'Things can go wrong'
Clemens' task is complicated, Grabowski said, by his chosen venue.
"I don't know that we would be advising him to do 60 Minutes," he said.
"That is a very powerful venue, but it's high risk. Things can go
wrong."
While King, for example, treats guests in more non-judgmental fashion
and asks questions in such a way that they have room to turn the
rhetoric to their favor, 60 Minutes has a tougher reputation.
"People agree to be interviewed by these investigative reporters
because they think they can use it to their advantage," Thompson said.
"They sometimes find out later that this is not the case."
The best example, Thompson said, was the decision by William
Westmoreland, the former commander of U.S. forces in Vietnam, to sit
for an interview for a CBS documentary that alleged he had withheld
information from his superiors for political reasons. Westmoreland sued
the network, but the case was settled before it went to a jury.
Before the Clemens case, Houston's most visible example of crisis PR
management was the Enron case. Enron employees Sherron Watkins and
Margaret Ceconi were the most prominent whistle-blowers, and each took
a different tack.
Houston attorney Philip Hilder, who represented Watkins, fielded more
than 250 interview requests but turned them all down.
"She had been outed by Congress leaking her memos, and I thought it was
strategically best to get her story out in a forum where it wouldn't be
limited to a single outlet that would show snippets of it," Hilder
said. "We decided to hold off and have her tell her story live before
the American people."
Ceconi's attorney, Demetrios Anaipakos, opted for her to appear on
ABC's Good Morning America.
"We could reach a large audience, but the longest format on those shows
is about three minutes, so it's easier to control," Anaipakos said.
"You still don't know what questions are going to be asked, and you are
on live, but it's still easier to control than a 60 Minutes interview."
From TV to Congress
Both, however, understand Clemens' decision to opt for 60 Minutes.
"I knew that Watkins would end up in a court of law," Hilder said.
"Clemens is playing to the court of public opinion."
"It's probably his only option," added Anaipakos. "But it's risky.
Anything he says will be pored over, and at some point, he may be
called on to defend those statements."
That chance, apparently, will come Jan. 16, when Clemens has been asked
to testify before the House Committee on Oversight. A congressional
hearing recalls the testimony of Palmeiro, whose finger-shaking denial
was undone by a positive steroid test a few weeks later, and of former
single-season home run king Mark McGwire.
"Both either evaded questions or made claims they couldn't defend,
which will give you gray hair as a lawyer," Anaipakos said.
If Clemens did his job well with Wallace, and if future developments
work in his behalf, he will reap similar rewards to Nixon after his
1952 "Checkers speech" and Bill and Hillary Clinton after their 60
Minutes appearance on Super Bowl Sunday 1992 to address accusations
about his extramarital affairs.
If not, his appearance may be remembered in the same light as Nixon's
"I am not a crook" speech of 1973 or Clinton's January 1998 news
conference at which he announced, "I did not have sexual relations with
that woman, Miss Lewinsky."
Truth, said Grabowski, is Clemens' best defense.
"It's going to be difficult to get around the question of how Brian
McNamee was credible with Andy Pettitte but he's not credible with
Roger Clemens," he said. "I'll go back to Watergate: It's not the
crime, it's the cover-up.
"If Roger Clemens has a Bill Clinton moment — 'I did not take steroids
with that woman' — and they find a blue dress, his credibility is lost.
And, unlike Bill Clinton, he does not have that store of likability to
save him with the American public."
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