OxfordPress.com

For years there was speculation that unaccounted-for victims of Charles Manson and his followers were buried at Barker Ranch, where Mr. Manson was captured, and the local authorities say they are going to put the matter to rest at last.

Citing soil testing suggestive of the possible presence of human remains at the ranch, the Inyo County Sheriff’s Office will begin digging for graves later this month.

The area around Barker Ranch, in the southwest area of Death Valley National Park in the Panamint Mountains, will be closed to the public for four days while the digging goes on.

The search was prompted by the findings of a forensic technology team that descended on the ranch in March, armed with special instruments that detect human decomposition, a cadaver-seeking dog and a group of researchers that included the sister of the actress Sharon Tate, who was among seven people murdered by members of the Manson cult.

The sheriff’s office said that the response of dogs and subsequent soil research were inconclusive, and that digging was needed to make conclusive findings.

“I believe the only way to determine once and for all whether there are bodies buried at Barker Ranch from the time of the Manson family,” said Sheriff Bill Lutze in a news release, “is to proceed with limited excavation in a few areas.”

Sheriff Lutze was unavailable Friday to give further details.

The ranch house is where Mr. Manson and his followers were captured after a two-night killing spree in August 1969.

So it came as no surprise that his stab at expressing sorrow over unnamed misdeeds was as lame as his excuse for throwing Piazza’s shattered bat at the Met (“I thought it was the ball”) a few months after beaning him eight seasons back.

“Like everyone,” Clemens said through a spokesman, “I have flaws.”

Clemens can’t confirm that he’s got flaws, not without reminding the world that you have flaws, too.

He wasn’t apologizing for using steroids and human growth hormone as Rocket fuel, even though a mountain of evidence swears he did just that. In the wake of reports that Clemens carried on extramarital affairs during his playing days (at this point, wouldn’t it be news if a star athlete didn’t carry on extramarital affairs during his playing days?), the greatest pitcher of his day decided it was time to say he is sorry for who knows what.

“Even though these articles contain many false accusations and mistakes,” Clemens said, “I need to say that I have made mistakes in my personal life for which I am sorry.”

Again, Clemens can’t announce that he’s screwed up royally without reminding others that they’ve screwed up royally, too.

“I have apologized to my family,” he continued, “and apologize to my fans. … I have sometimes made choices which have not been right.”

Roger Clemens hasn’t made a single right choice since his former trainer, Brian McNamee, fingered him as a juicer in the Mitchell Report. Back when Clemens was talking in the Yankee clubhouse, struggling to give coherent answers to the simplest news media questions, it appeared he wasn’t the smartest guy who ever picked up a rosin bag.

Now that suspicion has been confirmed in neon lights.

By pursuing a hearing before Congress, and by pursuing a defamation suit against McNamee, Clemens has done more damage to his personal life and professional legacy than the Mitchell Report ever could’ve done on its own.

He talked his way into a federal perjury investigation and, just maybe, into prison. He also sued his way into an examination of his own character that inspired Daily News reports of marital vows left looking like Piazza’s Subway Series bat.

Clemens apparently admitted to cheating on his wife. That would be the same wife, Debbie, whom he acknowledged as an HGH user while denying he even knew how to spell HGH.

“I believe my personal life has nothing to do with the accusations of steroid and HGH use,” Clemens said through his spokesman in a statement first published in the Houston Chronicle. “I have already made clear that I did not use them.”

Testimony from McNamee and Andy Pettitte says Clemens did indeed use performance-enhancing drugs. If McNamee and Pettitte told the truth under oath, and it sure looks like they did, Clemens lied again while apologizing for sins he didn’t name.

His reputation is beyond saving now, even if he didn’t start a sexual relationship with Mindy McCready, country singer-to-be, when she was 15. Nothing good can emerge from the balance of this case, nothing except (hopefully) the death of hero worship as we know it.

Clemens. Barry Bonds. Mark McGwire. Marion Jones. Lionized athletes too often end up exposed as false gods, a trend that spans decades of misplaced adulation on the ballfields.

It’s better to avoid getting too close to your heroes; their warts are generally bigger than their biceps. A friend of mine, Mark Dymond, came to know Mickey Mantle after his playing career - his limo company shepherded Mantle around town. The Mick confessed to Dymond that he was too hung over during some at-bats to even see the fastballs and curves thrown his way.

At a fantasy camp in Florida, Dymond was once walking with Mantle toward an elevator when a boy about 11 years old approached.

“Mr. Mantle, can I have your autograph?” the kid asked.

“(Bleep) off,” the great Mantle responded.

Yankees’ officials will tell you that Clemens didn’t treat fans and minions that way when the cameras were turned off. They will tell you about the small acts of decency behind clubhouse doors, the steak dinners he bought for the low-level staffers, the people who weren’t in any position to help him.

Nobody said Clemens is evil, just that he’s dumb. If Clemens isn’t dumb, he sure does a Hall of Fame impression of someone who is.

Rocket is also the flagbearer of a culture of jock entitlement. He’s had his launching pad kissed for so long, he assumed he could do whatever he pleased and then throw high and tight heat at anyone who dared to call him on it.

“I realize that many people want me to simply confess and apologize for the conduct that I have been accused of,” Clemens said in his statement, “but I cannot confess to, nor apologize for, things I did not do.”

So this act of contrition was a little short on, well, contrition. Roger the Dodger isn’t as sorry about the reported infidelity and drug use as he is about the fact he has to answer to the reported infidelity and drug use.

Mr. Olson, who has run Random House, the world’s largest consumer publisher, since 1998, has come under mounting pressure in recent months as Bertelsmann’s financial results have been damaged by lower profits at Random House and steep losses in its American book clubs, which he also oversees.

Bertelsmann’s recently-appointed chief executive, Hartmut Ostrowski, has lost patience with the performance of this American outpost and wants to install his own person, said these executives, who spoke on condition of anonymity because it involved internal personnel issues.

The terms and exact timing of Mr. Olson’s departure were still under negotiation, these people said. Bertelsmann’s board is scheduled to meet in New York in two weeks; an announcement could come shortly after that. “It’s just a question of working out his deal,” one executive said.

It was not yet clear who will replace Mr. Olson, although these executives said it would not necessarily be a prominent figure from New York publishing, and maybe not even an American.

Mr. Ostrowski, 50, rose to the top of Bertelsmann as the head of its printing and services division, Arvato, and since taking the helm in January, he has placed emphasis on its nuts-and-bolts businesses.

When Mr. Ostrowski laid out his strategy for Bertelsmann shortly before taking office, Mr. Olson, who was ill at the time, was missing from a lineup of executives on the stage in Berlin. The illness, these people said, had left him distracted and unavailable for long stretches last year.

Mr. Olson, a tall, reserved man who speaks fluent Russian and German, has long cut an unusual figure in the publishing industry. The highest-ranking American in a German company, Mr. Olson is known equally for his voracious reading habits and for his zealous attention to the bottom line.

In 2003, he abruptly dismissed the president of the Random House Trade Group, Ann Godoff, saying in a news release that she ran the only unit “to consistently fall short of their profitability targets.” In an interview, he said it would have been disingenuous to attribute her exit to other reasons.

Now, Mr. Olson appears to have fallen victim to the same bottom-line calculus. Sales at Random House fell 5.6 percent in 2007, hurt by the eroding dollar and weak consumer spending. Operating profit declined 4.9 percent, though Random House maintained its impressive run of bestsellers, among them “Playing for Pizza,” by John Grisham, “On Chesil Beach” by Ian McEwan, “Giving,” by Bill Clinton, and “Women & Money,” by Suze Orman.

The book clubs, which Mr. Olson overseas as the head of Direct Group North America, are an even weaker spot.

Bertelsmann expanded aggressively in this business in 2005 by buying Columbia House, a membership group that distributes DVDs and music. In 2007, it bought the 50 percent it did not already own of Bookspan from Time Warner. But the clubs have fallen far short of sales expectations.

Last year, Bertelsmann wrote down 414 million euros ($637 million) on its investment in the clubs, causing its overall net income to plunge more than 80 percent to 405 million euros ($623 million).