2008 Woodie Awards
The Tragedy of Barry Bonds
By: William Clarke
Issue date: 3/24/06 Section: Sports
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For fourteen years my devotion to Barry Bonds was limitless. As a nine year old baseball fanatic Bonds was my favorite and most beloved baseball superstar. On the field he was unparalleled as a true five tool player who could arguably perform at a higher level than any other player in baseball. He should have won four consecutive MVP awards. He was a total offensive machine and defensive guru. He was the best.
Unlike many other baseball fans, I didnâ?TMt look to Barry to teach me any ethical or moral lessons. As far as I was concerned my mother was the only person I trusted to answer those questions. The lessons Barry taught me were about being patient at the plate and preparing for every game like an NFL quarterback. Thatâ?TMs why I watched sports, to be entertained and to hopefully become a better player myself. I never believed for one minute that professional athletes had a responsibility to be more moral or ethical than anyone else. I didnâ?TMt then and I still donâ?TMt think athletes should be held to a different standard. Thatâ?TMs not their job and it shouldnâ?TMt be.
For all of his on-the-field greatness, I was still one of the few fans of Barry Bonds on this side of the Sierra Nevadaâ?TMs. Unlike Ken Griffey or Chipper Jones, Barry was never a fan favorite. In the land of Yankees, Mets and Phillies fans, he was hated. For whatever reason, being a Bonds fan was anathema to baseball purists and their obnoxious offspring. Those very same fans could love a team owned by George Steinbrenner, root for the obviously juiced up McGwire and couldnâ?TMt get enough of Sosaâ?TMs Sambo-like hop, skip, jump and smile routine. These are the same fans who now want Barryâ?TMs statistics stricken from the books and for him to be tossed out of baseball like Pete Rose.
Despite constantly having to defend myself as a Bonds fan, it was Barryâ?TMs unpopularity that made him even cooler to me. Not only was he the most supremely gifted athlete in baseball, but he flat out didnâ?TMt give a damn, and neither did I. For years he left it on the field and didnâ?TMt feel the need to keep petulant sportswriters and fickle fans happy. In the cutthroat world of middle school and youth sports that attitude was the best thing I could have learned from Barry. The hardened shell that Barry seemed to have was awesome. Handling the flack coming from coaches, parents and teammates can be rough, especially considering the fragile psyche of most children. I adulated Barry to such a degree that I modeled my entire game and routine after him. For a while I even tried to hit lefty, although I quickly realized that was one way in which I could never be like Barry.
Unlike many other baseball fans, I didnâ?TMt look to Barry to teach me any ethical or moral lessons. As far as I was concerned my mother was the only person I trusted to answer those questions. The lessons Barry taught me were about being patient at the plate and preparing for every game like an NFL quarterback. Thatâ?TMs why I watched sports, to be entertained and to hopefully become a better player myself. I never believed for one minute that professional athletes had a responsibility to be more moral or ethical than anyone else. I didnâ?TMt then and I still donâ?TMt think athletes should be held to a different standard. Thatâ?TMs not their job and it shouldnâ?TMt be.
For all of his on-the-field greatness, I was still one of the few fans of Barry Bonds on this side of the Sierra Nevadaâ?TMs. Unlike Ken Griffey or Chipper Jones, Barry was never a fan favorite. In the land of Yankees, Mets and Phillies fans, he was hated. For whatever reason, being a Bonds fan was anathema to baseball purists and their obnoxious offspring. Those very same fans could love a team owned by George Steinbrenner, root for the obviously juiced up McGwire and couldnâ?TMt get enough of Sosaâ?TMs Sambo-like hop, skip, jump and smile routine. These are the same fans who now want Barryâ?TMs statistics stricken from the books and for him to be tossed out of baseball like Pete Rose.
Despite constantly having to defend myself as a Bonds fan, it was Barryâ?TMs unpopularity that made him even cooler to me. Not only was he the most supremely gifted athlete in baseball, but he flat out didnâ?TMt give a damn, and neither did I. For years he left it on the field and didnâ?TMt feel the need to keep petulant sportswriters and fickle fans happy. In the cutthroat world of middle school and youth sports that attitude was the best thing I could have learned from Barry. The hardened shell that Barry seemed to have was awesome. Handling the flack coming from coaches, parents and teammates can be rough, especially considering the fragile psyche of most children. I adulated Barry to such a degree that I modeled my entire game and routine after him. For a while I even tried to hit lefty, although I quickly realized that was one way in which I could never be like Barry.
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