Roger Clemens created a lot of hullabaloo with his recent trade to the New York Yankees from the Toronto Blue Jays.

New Yorkers blasted the trade of Clemens for David Wells because Wells was the prototypical New Yorker--brash, crass and with a large ass.

That's not to mention that he could pitch a pretty good nine.

Beantowners took the trade as a sign from above that the Curse of the Bambino had tightened its grip around its beloved Red Sox. "I shall have your Roger Clemens pitch for the Yankees!" the ghost of Babe Ruth bellowed from above (or from below for BoSox fans) last week.

Toronto? Who cares about a Canadian opinion?

But what fails to be recognized by anyone is that Clemens made an intelligent move to the Bronx.

He assured himself a seat at the table of sports legends simply by donning pinstripes.

While they are already clearing a place for him in Cooperstown, Clemens could not be considered to be legend-bound before last week.

Legends come in Yankee uniforms. Ruth. Gehrig. DiMaggio. Mantle. All Yankees.

No other team in any sport has had so prolific a history as the New York Yankees.

The Packers in football? There were some lean years in the 80s.

The Lakers, Celtics or Bulls in basketball? Forget about the Bulls--who was there before number 23?

The Lakers and the Celtics have had wonderful dynasties, but they are in a sport often deemed inferior to the national pastime. Plus, the current Celtics can't buy a game and the Lakers have turned "Showtime" into "Show me the money."

Hockey? Who cares about a Canadian sport?

But the simple fact of the matter is that the South Bronx is the place to be. Whenever someone hearkens back to the halcyon days of sport, inevitably a Yankee name comes up in the conversation.