For those of you who are not interested in sports, baseball, and/or the US legal system, this is your chance to turn away. Also, this could easily turn into a pile of lousy, runny, ranty, gibberish-laden stool. So there's that warning.
On to business.
Few, if any, athletes today are as divisive as Barry Bonds. He's not merely an athlete in major legal trouble - no, for that, you can have Pacman Jones, Tank Johnson, or really, the majority of the Bengals roster. No, Bonds stands out for two major reasons: one, he is quite possibly, with all current issues aside, and looking from pure stats and awards and such, the greatest player to ever play. Two, he is one of, perhaps the central player in the latest and greatest epidemic to affect baseball and sports as a whole (I'm diggin' the add-on adjectives today!). Steroids have seeped into just about every sport at most known levels - yes, don't you shy away football fans, remember the incident involving the Carolina Panthers? No? No one does, but it happened. Replace offensive linemen with a few name running backs, and you've got Goodell in a pickle.
Anyway, back on topic: Bonds has now been named in an epic, sweeping, braznely broad and vague indictment, one that could theoretically land him in prison for up to 30 years - about the same time that this drama has been playing out, it feels. It's not been nearly as simple as the Marion Jones saga, which took far less time to play out, with a much broader scope of evidence to take in. Floyd Landis fell from grace in a measely three days, though the courts worked that one out only a few months ago (that's a bit of a sore subject for yours' truly, but that's a rant since passed. Sigh). No, Bonds' issues lay in a sport that didn't even ban, let alone test for steroids until just a few years ago. Even the IOC, the UN of sporting authorites, detailed their steroids policies back before I was eating paste. Instead, Bud Selig, a spineless jellyfish of a commish, waited until Congress - CONGRESS! - was on his ass, and he put flop sweat to paper in the most pathetic steroid policy any non-East-German sport body has ever produced. By the time anything was written, Bonds had done his thang, and began his ascent to the home-run list with new drugs.
Still, his supplier, BALCO was raided and cut down, unleashing a domino effect then unseen. This tiny little place - I like to think of BALCO as something like the lacrosse shop in those sprawling Sawmill strip malls, surrounded by countless empty storefronts, with more international reach and more horse testosterone - became the downfall of numerous star athletes, and probably more to come (Victor Conte has supposedly named 27 athletes). Victor Conte fell, then went Bonds' trainer, Greg Anderson. As ESPN so objectively pointed out in their three-hour long stretch of ten minutes of news last night, Bonds' new muscle showed up the spring after Bonds began training with Anderson. Bonds testify, got grilled, and ever since, the Justice Department has doggedly pursued Bonds, finally securing what they feel is suitable evidence to nail Bonds on perjury, as they can't really try him on douchebaggery. (On a side note, the statement Bonds' attorney issued yesterday is a pretty amusing read - he verbally attacked the Justice Department on the waterboarding issue - that's just a small, angry man being a small angry man, I suppose.)
Where does this put Bonds? Next year he's not going to play, I can pretty much guarantee that. He's an untouchable free agent. He's been shunted from San Fransisco; men who rape dogs don't necessarily feel out of place in San Fransisco. He may not play again, depending on how this process plays out (which will take approximately 34 years). And inevitably, the hall-of-fame debate comes up.
Opinion time! Simply put, Barry Bonds does not belong in the Hall of Fame. I can only think of two possible precedents set forth for Barry Bonds, both of which are theoretically still playing out. The more direct example is Mark McGwire's ongoing storming of the hall doors. His mere testimony in front of the House (a flop of Seligian proportions) seems suitable enough to keep him out, though I think people forget he didn't exactly piece together a Cooperstown career. If I could vote for a player from one year, 1998 McGwire would be unanimous, or at least close. But overall, he never really did a lot more than bash home runs, and even those didn't do that much good after 1990.
No, a better comparison is Pete Rose. Rose is an undeniable Hall-of-Fame player. All-tiem hits leader, World Series winner, one of the best players of his era, and of all-time. And yet, he now has no chance of getting in. There are numerous sins ballplayers can commit, but most of them are forgivable, especially in a city like Cincinnati where a beloved Red is more popular than any strip-club-banishing evangelist could ever hope to be. Why? He bet on the game. While not as murky and far-reaching as Bonds, his actions are part of a scandal that can immediately rock any game to its core - look at what Tim Donaghy is about to do to the NBA. It's not just a crime, not just a wrong, it's affecting the very way the game is played, and that is a cardinal sin. Unforgivable. The Hall of Fame rewards players who have propelled the game to new heights. And if Bonds is found guilty, essentially proving that he did use steroids, then that touches on the game itself, and there is absolutely no return from that.
My inner 10-year-old is weeping, Mister Bonds. What have you done?
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