AP / Pablo Martinez Monsivais

FORT MYERS, Fla. — Every day, it seems, things get worse for Roger Clemens.

On Wednesday, Houston Astros owner Drayton McLane said he was “re-thinking” whether to honor the 10-year personal services contract Clemens has with his hometown team.

Yesterday, the FBI announced it was launching investigation into whether Clemens perjured himself in testimony to Congress earlier this week.

A national poll conducted earlier this week showed that about two-thirds of the American public believes Clemens wasn’t telling the truth about his involvement with performance enhancing drugs.

Once an icon in the game, Clemens is now a baseball pariah. Now comes evidence that the Red Sox may be backing off their efforts at rapprochement.

While the organization had spoken in broad terms about holding a special day to honor to Clemens and perhaps even retire his number, those plans are now on hold.

“I seemed to remember some talk about that,” confirmed Red Sox president and CEO Larry Lucchino yesterday, noting that former vice president of public affairs Charles Steinberg spearheaded the discussions. “But since that time, there’s been nothing further. I know there are no plans at this point (to do anything).”

Lucchino quickly added that could change again.

“But I think it’s fair to say that there’s no reason to do it at this time,” said Lucchino. “Whether it gets revived will depend on what happens. … It’s sort of like we’re in the middle of a movie and we have to see how the movie ends.”

For Clemens, of course, this is now big-screen drama; this is real life, with everything from his legacy to his freedom potentially at stake.

If the Justice Department indicts him on perjury charges, he could face jail time. Suddenly, questions about Cooperstown and his standing in baseball history are trivial.

But following the arc of Clemens’ relationship with the Red Sox is fascinating.

When Clemens left the Sox after 1996, Dan Duquette’s indifferent pursuit and infamous kiss-off — the pitcher was said to be in the “twilight of his career” — he was livid. When he returned to pitch in Fenway in a Toronto uniform, he made a point to look up at Duquette’s box as he left the mound in triumph.

Clemens told anyone who would listen that he would not allow the Baseball Hall of Fame to depict him in a Boston cap upon his induction. Even after Duquette left the Sox, Clemens’ enmity toward the organization continued.

The current ownership group, which has made great strides in alumni relations, wanted to mend things with Clemens, too. When the Sox attempted to sign him in 2006, they commissioned a video to play for him in an effort to woo Clemens back to Boston for the end of his career.

“He did say,” said Lucchino, “that after our effort about reaching out to him, he felt much better about the organization.”

But after demonstrating a willingness to meet Clemens more than halfway, the Sox seem to be backpedaling. They were largely unstained by the release of the Mitchell Report and, of course, they’d like to keep it that way.

Had things gone differently, had Clemens accepted their offer to return in 2006 or 2007, the Sox this spring would be up to their necks in talk about steroids and human growth hormone. What did the Red Sox know and when did they know it?

“Certainly,” said Lucchino, “when we look at last year and the (minimal) contributions he made to the Yankees pitching staff and the ultimate success we had, I guess we were lucky.”

Baseball aside, it was pointed out that Clemens’ homecoming would have dragged the organization through the mud. Lucchino didn’t offer any disagreement.

Instead, the Sox’ hands are clean. For now, the Sox are just one of Clemens’ four former employers. As his trouble worsens, Clemens’ relationship with the Sox grows more distant, his time here more and more removed.

And after a period in which they tried to re-establish ties with Clemens, one gets the distinct feeling that that’s just fine with the Red Sox.

smcadam@projo.com