With steroids taint, fraudulent king crowned

SAN FRANCISCO — For so long, it seemed like something would intervene to stop Barry Bonds, didn’t it?

His health, or the Feds, or Bud Selig, or fate itself .

Heck, for a time last winter, it even seemed possible that no team, not even his enabling Giants, would sign Bonds.

He would be left drifting on the sideline, so close to the record and yet so far, a modern day Tantalus seeking in vain to grasp once again an ever-elusive bat.

But maybe that was just wishful thinking, because the thought of Barry Bonds, Home Run King, seemed so utterly distasteful that many of us tried to will him toward the minus side of Hank Aaron.

If Barry Bonds is anything, however, he is relentless. And single-minded. And not giving a rip that so many observers are so troubled by his ascendance, on Tuesday night, to the summit of sports records.

Or so it would seem, though no one can truly know what went through Bonds’ head as he trotted around the bases after he hit No. 756 off Washington Nationals left-hander Mike Bacsik.

Feted like a hero
in San Francisco

He was feted like a hero, of course, because this was San Francisco, where fans long ago came to believe that the ends justify the means with Bonds. In this case, the ends were 15 seasons of getting to watch the most wondrous bat artist of our time, and perhaps any time.

It was Bonds’ means, of course, that have kept him from universal acclaim, from the free-flowing adulation that should accompany an assault of this magnitude. If you’re not rooting for the Giants, it’s not nearly so easy to stick your head in the sand and ignore the obvious.

There is a preponderance of evidence—visual, logical, and, if the book “Game of Shadows” and various other reporting is to be believed, tangible—that this is a mark tainted by banned substances.

In the end, it is that question that fans and historians will have to come to wrap their arms around when it comes to the legitimacy of 756. The steroids question.

It is not a question about Bonds’ personality, which is abrasive enough to turn much of the media—and by extension, the public—against him. We can have grudging, eternal respect and admiration for cads, if they are clean and authentic cads.

It is not about his race, which undeniably turned the bigot faction against him (hopefully, a shrinking group in this day and age) but doesn’t explain the zealous protection of the legacy of another African American, Hank Aaron, whose reputation becomes more beloved by the day.

If it was cheating,
how do you view it

No, the question on the table, for perpetuity (or at least until A-Rod arrives at the mid-750s in a few years) is this: If Bonds’ record was accomplished by cheating, how do we view it, and him?

By now, of course, we’ve had plenty of time to mull over the issue, because at some point early this season, a sense of inevitability attached itself to Bonds’ pursuit. It was obvious that nothing was going to stop him, that he was indeed going to do it, the collective will of the (non-Giants fan, non-minority) people be damned.

In the end, after considerable internal consternation, here’s how I’ve chosen to view it: With grudging, borderline bitter, acceptance.

This is the way baseball was in the 1990s and 2000s.

The commissioner didn’t choose to stop it.

The Players Association didn’t choose to stop it.

The fans didn’t choose to stop watching it, even when it became increasingly clear that those exploding numbers were artificially enhanced.

Bonds’ incredible acceleration of power in his late 30s, at a point when virtually every other player has begun a decline, very likely was the result of performance-enhancing substances. In fact, I believe that to be a virtual certainty.

But similarly juiced were many of the pitchers throwing to him, and of the hitters pursuing him. That’s what the game was in the non-testing era. The steroids era. And it counts. It’s in the record books. They haven’t figured out a way to expunge Bonds’ numbers, and they won’t.

In other words, any asterisk will have to be internal, any devaluation of this record in the mind of the beholder. If you choose to deem Bonds a fraud and his mark an ugly joke, then go to town.

But that’s not going to wipe it out. He’s the Home Run King.

Bonds won. He outsmarted technology, outlasted the critics, and outhomered the Hammer.

Hail to the fraudulent king.

XLarry Stone is a sports columnist for The Seattle Times.

2007 McClatchy Newspapers