There is no athlete in modern professional sports whose mere presence on a television screen or newspaper headline angers me more than Roger Clemens.

It started for me before this past season — the summer when Clemens made a huge spectacle over his return to the Yankees, in the middle of a regular season game, from the owner’s box. The crowd roared when they heard of Clemens’ triumphant return to The Bronx, momentarily forgetting that the Yankees had gotten off to their worst start in recent years. Some speculate this start could have been avoided had Clemens come to spring training on time like the rest of his teammates. And many Yankee fans, always ready to indulge themselves with false hope, drank the Clemens Kool-Aid like it contained water from the Fountain of Youth.

Clemens’ decision to announce his return in such a manner embodies not only his arrogance, but also what has become the fatal flaw in professional sports of late: Individuals have become bigger than the team. The Yankees rallied to make the post-season without a notable contribution from Clemens before bowing out to the Indians, again without any significant contribution from Clemens, the alleged Yankee savior.

Then, during the off-season, as new allegations of Clemens’ steroid use emerged in former Sen. George Mitchell’s comprehensive report on drug use in baseball, Clemens once again drew the ire of levelheaded sports fans across the nation. When it was announced that his former personal trainer, Brian McNamee, had submitted testimony that would conclusively link Clemens to steroids, Clemens released a taped phone call between him and McNamee where an obviously peeved Rocket urged McNamee to come clean with what he knew.

McNamee had apparently already done so in the Mitchell Report, and now Clemens’ reputation as a physical fitness anomaly — a true athletic specimen whose regimented workouts had gained fame for preserving one of the greatest right arms ever to throw a baseball — is looking as tarnished as ever.

All of the legal maneuvers of these players pulling to have testimony disputed or hearings rescheduled only add to the growing public sentiment of their guilt. If Clemens, and to that effect, Barry Bonds, truly want to set the record straight on their alleged steroid use, there is only one solution. They need to come before Congress, place their right hand on whatever book they choose, and swear in front of the entire country that they didn’t use steroids. Plain and simple. At that point, lying is illegal and they can be sent to jail for perjury, since we can’t send them to jail for the even more heinous crime of ruining the integrity of America’s pastime.

If each of these players really has nothing to hide, then why are we still discussing accusations and engaging in childish disputes through media outlets? Instead we should be putting the accused parties on the stand and asking them the questions to which all sports fans deserve answers. Steroids weren’t illegal at the time, the government never banned their use and no legal action is forthcoming if players admit that they used them. Open disclosure in front of the nation is the only option left for some of the legends of the steroid era, such as Bonds and Clemens, to clear their names and hope that someday, the public will forgive them enough to enshrine them in Cooperstown where true legends of the game are remembered.

On Wednesday morning, Clemens gets his chance to testify in front of Congress. Let’s hope our elected leaders can finally clean up this controversy once and for all, and Clemens just comes clean.