Hey Barry, You’re No Babe

I haven’t been a Barry Bonds fan from the beginning. I thought he was a great player, and continue to think that, but I’ve never been a fan. His years with the Pirates were punctuated with the occasional tirade, the most celebrated was one directed at then Manager Jim Leyland.

Bonds didn’t like PR department’s ability to allow journalists to do their job, and photojournalists to take Bonds’ picture during spring training. Bonds went into a profanity laced diatribe aimed at the PR director, who was backed up by Leyland. So Bonds turned his venom on the Manager, who didn’t back down. And Leyland proved to be right and Bonds proved to be a bad guy. He says the Pirates never made an offer to keep him, and he’s probably right. A city like Pittsburgh isn’t going to put up with a sulking star, so Barry was out, off to San Francisco.

It’s one thing to have a bad relationship with the fans and the media, but when your teammates are willing to throw you under the bus at the drop of a hat, then you’re the problem. Bonds had his own corner of the locker room created, taking up three lockers with lounge chairs and a big screen TV. And the TV’s were tiled so only Bonds and his “visitors” could see them.

I’ve been on enough teams and have been around enough athletes to know that some have a reputation that precedes them. And people buy into it and it’s self-perpetuating. But if you’re around them long enough, you know what kind of person they are, what their values are (if they have any) and if it’s an act, or the real thing. Baseball especially with its long hours and extended season of 162 games feeds off the chemistry of a team. Teammates know who you are, and none of Bonds’ teammates have ever backed him up. They all hate him too.

So in his insulated world, Bonds is existing as a baseball player with a constant shadow. Actually two shadows. One is his personality that turns off just about everybody, the other is the shadow of steroid use as a performance enhancing drug that helped him get bigger, faster and stronger. At this point, it doesn’t matter if Bonds did steroids or if he admits to it or denies it. The question will always be there and it will always taint any milestone he reaches.

Major League Baseball decided not to do any kind of celebration for passing Babe Ruth’s mark, rather calling it a “milestone” and putting specially marked balls into play to authenticate the actual home run ball. “We’re not going to have a celebration for passing into second place,” was their thinking. You can be sure it would have been different if Bonds didn’t have a shadow or two following him all over the place.

You might remember he derided Babe Ruth about a year ago saying nobody would remember Ruth once he passed him. Wrong again Barry. Ruth was no saint but his mark was an enduring standard only broached by one player, who did it through hard work and long seasons.

There are no shadows following Henry Aaron around. If Bonds ever gets to 755 baseball will be obligated to have some sort of celebration. Which might finally answer the question: What if you were to throw a big party and nobody came? Is it still a party?