Barry
Bonds: The Baseball Superstar the Media Love To Hate
by
Burton S. Blumert
When
a prominent athlete hits the front page these days, it’s usually
a sordid tale involving murder and mayhem.
One
athlete savagely dismembers his wife, another sullen footballer
hires an amoral thug to murder a pregnant girlfriend, and on Super
Bowl weekend in Atlanta, an NFL poster boy takes part in a bloody
confrontation that leaves two dead.
It
was very different when the San Francisco Chronicle featured
baseball star Barry Bonds on their front page on June 1, 2001. But
the only violence in this story was Barry Bonds bruising baseballs
during his record-breaking barrage of home runs in the month of
May.
Baseball
was forever changed by the mighty Babe Ruth from a bucolic game
played on a cow field with a dead “ball” to a struggle dominated
by the “home run” an American metaphor for success.
Bonds,
in his sixteenth year in the major leagues as a superstar, was never
identified as a home run slugger in the mold of the great Babe or
modern bashers like Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa. In his early years,
Bonds was a lithe figure, emphasizing speed and defensive skills.
When
Bonds struck his 500th career home run earlier this season,
the baseball establishment seemed surprised. How had this interloper
entered the legendary domain inhabited by only seventeen baseball
immortals? The event was well covered by the media, but Bonds membership
in the exclusive 500-career home run club seemed more honorary than
earned.
Then
came the month of May and Barry’s shower of home runs. Almost one
per game. Unbelievable.
No
longer the slender figure, Bonds, mature, solid, but clearly not
shaped by steroids, has become a bona fide slugging home-run hitter.
He is currently on pace to break all existing single-season records
for homers.
Bonds
is a baseball aristocrat. His father, Bobby Bonds, was a proven
major leaguer with impact of his own upon the record book. It is
also widely known that Willie Mays, whom baseball experts rate as
one of the three best players ever, is Barry’s godfather.
While
growing up, Barry might have had difficulty identifying with Mays,
an icon from another time and place, but Mays’ accomplishments were
part of Bonds’ family lore.
Barry
attended Serra High, a fine Catholic school in San Mateo, a prosperous
suburb in Northern California. Arizona State was selected for his
college “education” as the school had an outstanding baseball program
with a pipeline to the big leagues.
Baseball,
more than any other sport, has a reverence for statistics. During
Bonds’ sixteen-year major league career, he has accumulated an impressive
array of records and approaches many more. This tornado of statistics
makes it impossible for the baseball establishment to deny him superstar
status, although some writers consider him an intruder into hallowed
territory.
What
is it about Barry Bonds that the sports media cannot countenance?
What’s
wrong with Barry?
If
he were guilty of domestic violence or had succumbed to drugs, and
then became contrite and begged forgiveness, would he be embraced
by the media?
I
don’t think so.
There
is one sin the media can never forgive. One sin which drives them
into an unrelenting crusade against the perpetrator. This is the
sin committed by the star athlete who doesn’t like the media.
Barry
learned early in his career how duplicitous the sports reporter
could be. With a smile, Barry’s honest comments were solicited and
then perverted. Barry would learn that some reporters were snakes
and he suffered their venom repeatedly. It was self-defense for
him to withdraw, become defensive and aloof.
In
one instance, some years ago at Candlestick Park, he hit a soft
fly ball along the left field foul line. Barry guessed that the
ball would fall untouched in foul territory and did not “hustle”
by running it out. When the ball fell fair, some fans booed. In
an interview about the incident, Bonds explained that after years
of wear and tear, he has learned to ration his energies to avoid
injuries, thereby extending his career.
Barry’s
response was perfectly plausible, but by the time the story was
recycled, he emerged as lackadaisical and disinterested.
Even
ESPN baseball expert Peter Gammons shocked a tv baseball panel when
he compared Bonds to the legendary Ted Williams, the greatest hitter
of all time. The other sports panelists seemed offended with Gammon’s
assessment, and poor Peter backed off his observation by pointing
out that what Bonds shared with Williams was their mutual dislike
of the media and vice versa.
I
fear this deep-rooted dislike of Bonds will endure whatever his
final baseball accomplishments. It’s possible, I suppose, that Barry
will acquire theatrical grace and be transformed into a media darling.
After all, Mark McGwire converted from a surly, unresponsive interview,
to a lovable American hulk while pursuing his remarkable 70- home
run year.
Will
this happen to Barry? I don’t think so.
The
criticisms of Bond continue like a mantra: Barry is not a team player,
they say. He never performs well under the pressure of post-season
play. He doesn’t exhibit the fervor of a Pete Rose, for example.
And finally, that Bonds' home-run accomplishments are due to the
era of the “juiced” baseball.
Phew.
Where do I begin refuting these phony allegations?
It
is true that Bonds is a reserved fellow and not a chum to his teammates.
But in the manner in which he plays the game he is the consummate
team professional and earns respect, particularly from young players.
Bonds stays in excellent physical condition, and now at age 37,
works harder at it than ever before.
He
leads by example and is acknowledged as one of the all time great
defensive players. He is a consistent Golden Glover, a rare quality
for a home-run slugger.
As
to Barry’s disappointing post-season statistics, it is interesting
that Willie Mays’s World Series performances are almost identical
to Barry’s, yet where is the criticism of Mays? This is additional
evidence of the media bias against Barry.
Regarding
Bonds’s attitude, in his sixteen-year history, it is well known
he often plays “hurt.” Never before has a slugging superstar stolen
500 bases, risking injury on every hard contact with the ground
while at the same time dodging the spikes of enemy infielders. Another
rare quality for a home run slugger.
Over
sixteen seasons Barry played an average of almost 150 games per
year. Even in the year 2000 when he underwent major arm surgery,
he amazed the doctors with his recovery, playing the last third
of the Giants championship season.
The
“juiced” baseball charge is ridiculous. Sure, there’s lots of homers
hit these days, but Bonds struck his in the difficult home field
confines of Candlestick Park. The new Pac Bell Park may also prove
to be more favorable to pitchers. Even Barry’s harshest critic would
acknowledge that he would have collected over 600 career home runs
by now had he played his home games in any other major league park.
The
fans either love him or hate him, but nobody goes to the john or
the fridge when Barry Bonds is due up. At the ball park business
stops at the concession stands when Barry is at bat. He remains
the most dangerous hitter in baseball.
Barry,
I’m rooting for you to hit 71 home runs this year, although everybody
knows how impossible a goal that could be.
Most
important, don’t let the media creeps get under your skin. You are
true baseball royalty, and they are unworthy slugs.
June
8, 2001
Burt
Blumert [send him mail]
is owner of Camino Coins, president of the Center
for Libertarian Studies, and publisher of LewRockwell.com.
Copyright
© 2001 LewRockwell.com
Burton
S. Blumert Archives
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