Beloved at first sight
Rocket debut wasn't pretty, but endearing
The big sports story that day was actually on Page 1:
REAGAN SAYS HE CAN'T ENTICE SOVIETS TO ATTEND OLYMPICS
That was the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics, of course. Since then, the Summer Olympics also have been held at Seoul, Barcelona, Atlanta, Sydney, and Athens. A lot of things have happened. No more Berlin Wall. Something called the Internet. The rise and fall of Michael Jackson. Oprah. "American Idol."
And, of course, Roger Clemens taking the mound. And taking the mound. And taking the mound.
The date was May 15, 1984. That's when Roger Clemens made his major league debut in Cleveland's mammoth and decrepit Municipal Stadium.
He pitched well enough to win and he pitched poor enough to lose. He slogged through a bizarre 5 2/3 innings, allowing 11 hits and five runs (four earned) and he wound up with a no-decision in a 7-5 Red Sox loss.
On that same evening, Jay Leno was making an appearance at Nick's Comedy Stop and Jerry Vale was pitching vocal woo at Framingham's Chateau de Ville. Local cinema enthusiasts had their pick of such flicks as "The Natural," "Breakin'," "The Bounty," and "Sugar Cane Alley."
The comparable options for the good people of Cleveland apparently had far more appeal than this matchup between the perennially abysmal Indians and the -- are you ready? -- last-place Red Sox.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud and pleased to bring, for your reading pleasure, the words of the one and only Peter Gammons, who was on site to mark this slice of Red Sox history:
"The setting for the Roger Clemens Debut was like taking a play to Dixville Notch before New Haven. On a night when the windchill factor went below freezing in a ballpark where you take your kid if he wants to understand the Depression (the announced crowd of 4,004 counted cobwebs), against a team that hasn't contended since three years before Clemens was born, Ralph Houk introduced the most ballyhooed Red Sox pitcher since Ken Brett, or maybe even Frank Baumann."
(Aside to whomever: Peter Gammons is now rich and famous because he appears regularly on TV, but I know, and he knows, that his real service to mankind was leaving behind prose like this for us all to rediscover 23 years after the fact.)
The team Roger joined was a mess. Mr. Gammons had described the situation in a dispatch printed the morning of Clemens's debut. The team, he reported, has "been playing with the animation of a forest of redwoods." He also told us, "The clubhouse is filled with the quibbling, back-biting and second-guessing diseases that plague second-division teams."
So, welcome to the big leagues, kid.
The Kid was, as Gammons had alluded, the gem of the organization, a 1983 first-round pick out of the University of Texas who had pitched the Longhorns to the College World Series championship in June of '83 and then pitched New Britain to the Eastern League crown three months later, capping his first professional summer with a three-hit shutout of Lynn in the deciding game. There were some arm issues, but now, six weeks into the season, he was ready to go.
"If he pitches his game," said Sox pitching coach Lee Stange, "and doesn't overthrow the way he did in spring training, he'll wind up here."
The first start was enough to make someone of a lesser resolve consider becoming a meter maid. He gave up 11 hits, yes, but six, according to Gammons, were "bathed in blood." Dwight Evans "took the Akron turnoff" on a first-inning Pat Tabler fly ball that dropped for a single. Roger was hit on the heel by a liner. First base umpire Rich Garcia missed a call on a 3-1 play that would have had him out of an inning, claiming Roger had missed the base. (Why, however, was the batter credited with a hit?) First baseman Mike Easler was called for interference as Brett Butler attempted to steal second.
And speaking of steals . . . the Indians stole seven bases, four off Clemens, about whom a Cleveland scouting report had said, "Quick feet to first, but slow to the plate -- try to run on him." That's still sound advice, by the way.
It was truly a mondo bizarro night, and when it was over, Houk had this assessment: "I couldn't believe some of the things that were happening around him . . . guys running, plays not being made, and all he did was keep bearing down. I know he's got the great arm, I know he'll settle down with the great breaking ball. What he showed me were guts and poise, especially considering what happened after Garcia ruled he missed the tag at first."
"What a way to break into the big leagues," agreed Cleveland skipper Pat Corrales.
You've already taken note that Butler, one of the great leadoff men ever, was atop the Cleveland order. Andre Thornton, who once hit for the cycle at Fenway Park off four different pitchers, was batting cleanup. On this strange evening, the lumbering slugger had the first multi-stolen-base game of his career. None other than Dudley Michael Hargrove, a.k.a. the Human Rain Delay, was playing first base and batting fifth. You young-uns might recognize him as Mike Hargrove, longtime skipper of the Indians, Orioles, and Mariners.
But get a load of who was batting sixth and playing short, and had a sacrifice fly in Clemens's major league debut: 25-year-old shortstop Julio Franco.
In the aftermath of all this chaos, the 21-year-old Roger Clemens even spoke the magic words. "I never expected to go to the Hall of Fame in one night," he said. "I kind of expected something crazy would happen my first time out there, and it did."
Five days later, Clemens recorded the first of his 348 victories, going seven innings (7 H, 4 R, 4 ER, 7 K, 1 BB) in a 5-4 decision over the Twins in the Metrodome. "I'm just thrilled that I've got that first win," he said. "I've got some things to do, but it's a start."
He still has some "things to do" nearly 23 years later. And the 44-year-old mortal-lock Hall of Fame New York Yankee righthander soon will have an opportunity to renew acquaintances with the 48-year-old Julio Franco, who is on the first year of a two-year New York Mets contract.
There will be somewhat more than 4,004 in attendance. Too bad Peter Gammons won't be writing about it.
Bob Ryan is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is ryan@globe.com. 
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