Yankeetorial: Believe it or not, yesterday was a good day, because....

... The free world ditched, at least for now, the Clown Court trial of the buffoon known as Roger Clemens.

The judge ruled "Mistrial."
He meant, "Mistake."

OK, I'm preaching to the hell choir, because everybody - seriously, everybody, even your dog! - instinctively recognized here a waste of taxpayer time and money up there with Alaska's Bridge to Nowhere and America's War on Drugs. But it had a secret purpose:

It was the Yankee season-killing bomb.

Yes, over the next month, the Clemens monstrosity would explode every day, with shrapnel always catching Yankees. We'd see Andy Pettitte - and, yeesh, his wife! - lugged into court and tazer-prodded into reliving the past. It would always be about the Yankees. How else does baseball in America make headlines anymore?

Listen: Roger Clemens deserves to feel the cold touch of history's protology thumb. He should be ridiculed, mocked, hissed - with flaming bags of dogpoo set on his doorstep. No, here's something worse: He should be forgotten, ignored, cast aside - because he wouldn't, or couldn't, tell the truth under oath. I can understand why prosecutors would use such a bum to set an example about lying. But whatever happened to those cigarette company executives? Has Monsanto been called to testify lately? Would Rupert Murdoch ever trowel up fiction with a hand on the Bible? Do any of those rough, tough feds ever tangle with somebody with the political juice to attack back?

Bringing the Rocket before Congress to talk steroids was like asking Lindsay Lohan, during a chlamydia hallucination, to sit still with a vial of crack in front of her. Of course, he was going to deny it! Everybody knew this. Pitching is lying. You pretend you'll throw a fastball, and you throw a change-up. You lie. Want to tally the lies we eat every day? Try measuring the red dye No. 2 on Murdoch's Medussa, that utterly evil, she-lizard, Bozo-haired editor, Rebeka Brooks, who is now making the media rounds like a diseased plate of talking clams at a backyard barbecue.

Yesterday, the Clown Court prosecutors did exactly what the judge ordered them not to do: They showed a video of Andy Pettitte's wife. Mistrial.

I'm figuring this kicks the can down the road at least six months... to winter. When it can't do Yankee damage.

Does anybody believe this trial will ever occur during the winter? Of course not.

If they can't bust the Yankees in a pennant race, they won't give a damn about it at all.