Antiquated Red Sox garb IV

I've put off this post long enough, but I figure I should mark the one-year anniversary of SoxandPhils by wrapping up a feature I've left open for far too long. (Although I may have to revisit it soon if and when Jason Varitek signs elsewhere.)

Among all my Red Sox garb, my favorite is the one I can no longer wear. Like the artifacts from my journalism career, I will officially retire it to storage after this post is filed.

It is the authentic Roger Clemens jersey that I literally saved pennies in my childhood to buy.

I collected change in a giant mayonnaise jar. I kept a small Figment (a Disney character) at the bottom in hopes of burying him with quarters and dimes. Figment's head stayed above the coin line, but it was a big enough jar that by the time high school rolled around, I had about $100. I was soon wearing a No. 21 on my back, just like the guy who first attracted me to the Red Sox.

Before turning to steroids to extend his career in hopes of becoming an upper pantheon Hall of Famer, Clemens - then largely unknown - struck out 20 batters on my 9th birthday in 1986. I already hated the Yankees, and that cemented the Red Sox as my new team.

Several years later, I was so proud to have bought his jersey. I said I'd be buried in it - and haven't completely ruled that out yet. {Over my dead body.}

When he bolted for the Blue Jays, I swore I wouldn't wear the jersey again, but I began to before he joined the Empire. Then, when he became an Astro, I wore it again until he rejoined the Empire.

Now that he's become the poster boy for the Mitchell Report and the steroid era, I know I have to put it away until/unless the Red Sox give it to some promising young prospect. I had hoped Clay Buchholz would get it, but that looks like it won't happen. Why couldn't have Jon Lester wanted 21?

I've had to do a lot of growing up this year, and I think it's time I put away this childhood memento.