As long as we're talking baseball, Seth Stevenson, in a beautiful open letter at Slate, departs a bit from the recent conventional wisdom and declares his undying hatred for Roger Clemens.

Stevenson, a deeply embittered Red Sox fan, has seized on the comic trait that I enjoy most: finding a hundred different ways to call someone fat.

Writes Stevenson:

Dear Roger Clemens,

Let me offer my hearty congratulations on starting the All-Star Game. Wow, that is really terrific. I'd like to note, however, that I hate you.

Also: You are fat. They say you've got this hard-core training regimen, with calisthenics and whatnot. I'm not seeing it. You're wicked fat.

He later adds:

Speaking of your kids, their names all start with K. Because K is the symbol for strikeout. That's lame, dude. If I named my kids after something I'm really good at, they'd all be named "Calling-Roger-Clemens-Fat Stevenson." And that's just too unwieldy.

Classic.