Two Barrys By The Bay, Let's Hope One Goes Away

I am not in my mid-eighties, so I never saw Babe Ruth play. I am also under forty, so I have only seen old highlights of Hank Aaron. Fortunately, however, I am old enough to have seen Barry Bonds play for the Pittsburgh Pirates in the late 80s and early 90s. I saw him hit, run and play left field like some of the best baseball ever had to offer. At that time he was what has become a rarity in today’s game: a legitimate five-tool player. But that was fifteen years, three hat sizes and five hundred illegitimate home runs ago.

Now, he's a supped-up version of his old, Hall of Fame self; disgustingly muscular, obnoxiously arrogant and irritatingly close to one of sports' most hallowed records. As a result, in the Spring and Summer of 2007, we find ourselves in the midst of the biggest sports snafu since college football’s Bowl Championship Series began in 1999. Despite the erroneous nature of both Bonds’ pursuit of the home run record and the establishment of the BCS, the difference between the two is that the BCS was not on the verge of breaking one of its sport’s most sacred and beloved records when it was formed. Bonds is on the road to breaking a record that most would have sworn would never be broken.

How in the world could anyone anywhere hit more than 755 home runs in a career?

It would take a miracle, an act of God, a month full of full moons; all the stars in the universe would have to be perfectly aligned for anyone to even come close. Baseball deserves a larger-than-life hero to break its sacred records. Jerry Rice was worthy enough to break the NFL's touchdown records. Emmitt Smith was also as worthy to break Sweetness' yardage mark. Cal Ripken was certainly justified in breaking baseball's consecutive games played streak. So, give us someone worthy to break Hammerin' Hank's mark, please.
Unfortunately, it has not worked out that way at all. Instead what we get is a man with fewer scruples than Tony Soprano – and with even shadier connections.

Barry Bonds is a cheater, plain and simple. His freakish appearance is enough to give that away. Nobody’s middle-aged head grows to the size of an over-inflated basketball without some serious genetic assistance. Genetic assistance, in this case, being steroids.
Still, he’s gotten away with it up to this point. He is currently so far away from being caught that the San Francisco Giants re-signed him to a one-year deal that will guarantee him more money than his cohort Soprano could make in a decade at Bada-Bing.

Speaking of cohorts, the Giants added another Barry – Zito, to be exact – to their repertoire, moving the perennial American League All-star from just across the bay to the friendly confines of the house that Bonds built. What is definitely a good move for the Giants is bad for the Athletics and has created a strange set of circumstances in the Bay Area. We have two Barry’s in San Francisco, one with a big arm and one with a big head. You figure out which one is which.

The success of the Giants depends on both Barry’s having good seasons. For Barry Bonds, having a good season means that he will break Aaron's home run record (probably at least by mid-season) and break the hearts of sports fans all over America who haven't been living under a rock for the past several years. For Barry Zito, having a good season means the Giants win the NL West, giving him a realistic shot to actually win a playoff series and possibly make a World Series appearance.
Whatever happens, the San Francisco Giants are legitimate contenders for at least a division title. And I certainly would not begrudge at least one of the Barry’s a shot at that.

Which one is that, you ask?

Oh, the one with the normal sized head.