Kacy Clemens lets his performance earn his reputation - not his famous last name.
File photo by John Godwin
The Clint Eastwood gunslinger's glint in the eyes was never rehearsed in front of a bathroom mirror or in a locker room just before a game when no one was looking. The razor-sharp squint just below the cap's bill came naturally, genetically, and it's been beaming through hitters in Houston for the last few years.
Kacy Clemens never had to practice his father Roger's glare on the mound. Because out of former superstar pitcher Roger Clemens' four boys, his third son, Kacy, looks more like the old man than his three siblings.
Kacy Clemens, Memorial
File photo by John Godwin
Kacy is a 6-foot-3, 205-pound bundle of unrelenting energy who was 8-1 and hit .370 playing third base and first base last year as a sophomore, and is 4-0 this season for
Memorial (Houston). His fastball has been clocked in the low-90s, and the intangibles are there, too, like his unbending wrought-iron competitiveness and will.
But above everything, above being a Clemens kid, Kacy likes to introduce himself as, "Kacy," just Kacy, purposely leaving out his famous surname because he wants to be judged
on who he is — and doesn't want any favors because he's Roger Clemens' son.
Judge him on being Kacy — leave the last name out.
It doesn't mean Kacy still can't harbor those images of himself as a toddler playing with his father taking BP with a foam bat in old Yankee Stadium. It doesn't mean he can't enjoy knowing his dad is always there watching him play, when Roger is not traveling to take in his oldest son Koby's games. You'll find Roger there, stashed away from the crowd, hunched forward in his seat absorbing Kacy's every movement, his mechanics, while never intrusive.
"I've grown up around sports and pro baseball and it's been a way of life for me since I could remember, but I'm just Kacy and I realize I have to go my own way," Kacy said with a tinge of maturity beyond his 17 years. "My last name doesn't make me any better than anyone else, and I certainly want people to like me for who I am, not based on who my dad is or what my dad's accomplished. Don't get me wrong, I love being the son of Roger Clemens, but to me, he's dad, the guy who gets on me about keeping my grades up and someone I can go to about anything.
"But when I meet people for the first time, I'll shake their hand and say, ‘Hey, I'm Kacy,' leaving out my last name. I want to do things on my own, and sometimes it isn't easy. There is pressure that comes with it. At Baseball USA, or just going out to play, I step on the bump, and you see all these kids show up to see me pitch. It's like you can hear them, ‘There's Roger Clemens' son, that's Roger Clemens' son.' It's tough because if I'm not perfect, like my dad, you hear it. I have to keep up high expectations. I want to succeed like my dad. Anything close to what my father accomplished would be great."
So Kacy knows how to uncoil when he's not playing. Baseball is his sport, but he's not wholely consumed by it. He's the starting free safety on the Mustangs' football team, and it seems as if he's embraced his father's most important mantra that Roger constantly preaches: You're a student before you're an athlete.
"Kacy handles himself extremely well," Memorial baseball coach Jeremy York said. "The kid has a great sense of humor, but there are some things you just can't ignore. Kacy was on the mound one day, and my assistant coach asked me who Kacy reminded me of as he went into his windup. We both laughed. Come on — that's very easy to figure out. He has his father's genetics. But Kacy is very much his own person. He loves to play, there's no question about that. But he also has that certain quality other kids don't have.
"Kacy makes kids around him better. He has leadership qualities that make the other kids want to follow him and we've seen that more this year. He holds back a little bit because he's a junior, out of respect for the seniors on the team, but when Kacy speaks up, people listen. He has this respect for the game, and the older kids, but I spoke to him about it — I tell him to let it loose. I don't want him holding back. I want him to be himself."
Kacy Clemens, Memorial
File photo by John Godwin
Part of who Kacy is surfaced early last year, on a number of fronts. During a tournament, York was short on pitching one game and Kacy had thrown earlier in the week. He asked Kacy how he felt and the burly righthander (Kacy bats lefty) said he was ready to go. Kacy went out and shut down the other team.
Being a Clemens comes with considerable clout. Roger, who never knew his biological father, has made sure his sons don't want for anything. His mother married Woody Booher, who Roger considered his father until Booher died when he was 9. He knew what it was like looking up in the stands and not having a father peer back down on him.
It wasn't going to happen to his boys.
Roger's sons are his pride and joy. They would never feel the void he felt. It explains why Roger is an omnipresent figure in their lives (toward the end of his career Clemens had clauses written into his contract that the days he wasn't pitching, he was able to go home to be with his family in Houston). It explains why York and those associated with the Memorial program consider Roger a better father than he was a Major League pitcher, which says something.
"Roger is there not only for his boys, but for all the kids," York said. "Roger works with Kacy, but as far as being overbearing, that's not Roger. He supports our program, supports what we do and he's been a great resource. We can ask him anything about the game and Roger is always willing to help. A few weeks ago, we spoke to Roger about a strength and conditioning program, and he was willing to do anything he could. But that's been typical with Roger. He cares about his sons, but he cares about kids. I've seen it firsthand."
Being a Clemens, however, does come with a prerequisite: Thick-as-leather skin. There were two ugly instances last year when some derogatory comments about Roger were spewed at Kacy from the opposing dugout and in the stands. It wasn't a good idea.
The pop in the catcher's glove grew louder with each pitch. The first time, Kacy struck out the side on nine pitches. The second occurrence he hit a two-run single in extra innings during a playoff game, then pointed to his teammates in the dugout.
This year, so far, nothing has been said.
"That stuff last year set me off and I started throwing harder," Kacy recalled. "Someone wants to say something, go ahead, it gets me going and I play even harder. I've learned through my father to lock everything out. We simulate that kind of stuff. My dad constantly tells me it's me and the catcher, when I'm pitching, and it's me and the pitcher when I'm hitting. I learned from watching my dad and how he blows things off. It just makes me focus harder. Say something, I want to beat them more. That's all it does."
Kacy's mental toughness impresses York.
"I remember hearing these people saying those things to Kacy, and how Kacy used it as motivation." York said. "I know Kacy's been told people are idiots and you have to deal with some of this stuff. You hear the comments and Kacy internalizes it, blocks it out, and does what he does on the mound. I thought he was amazing. He's done an outstanding job of handling it all. But it bothered me, maybe more than it bothered Kacy, because we're talking about a 16-year-old kid here. I just find it interesting that both times, Kacy's father wasn't there. It was just people taking shots at Kacy through his dad. You want to know why Kacy is a special kid, look at his parents, Roger and Debbie."
Kacy is building considerable college interest. Texas, where Roger went, is in the mix, as is TCU, Texas A&M and Stanford. He carries a 3.5 GPA ("My father won't let me hit until my homework is done," Kacy says) and it's not exactly etched in stone that Kacy becomes a Longhorn like his dad.
"I'm open to all options right now college-wise," said Kacy, who also throws a curveball and changeup for strikes. "I would love to have a baseball career, but I know my parents want me to go to college and get an education. As for what I may play, I really don't know what I want to do, because I love pitching, and I love hitting. I love doing both. That's a decision I'll make down the line. For now, Memorial has never won a state championship in baseball. That's my biggest priority — to win. We reached the regional finals last year. This year we want to win it all."
The journey to that desired title will come with an inherited gunslinger's biting squint that he's making all his own.
