I know it's uncharitable of me to have bad thoughts during the holiday season, but I really wish someone would take Curt Schilling hostage for a few months and force him to act out various scenarios with packets of ketchup. Or, barring that, maybe they can look into the shots he was getting before his miraculous performances as a wounded hero. Oh, wait. I forgot that cortisone isn't really a steroid. Let me add, also, that they may be curling in the corners of Hell, because I never thought I'd see the day in which I rise to the defense of Roger Clemens, yet here it is!