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Let’s
hear it for baseball’s biggest antihero
By Jeremy Johnson
jjohn308@mscd.edu My
obligatory auto-drafted fantasy baseball team is officially
fully functional and ready to kick some ass. I’ve been
to three ball games in a month, including two spring training
games in Arizona and a recent Sunday game at Coors Field
that included five ejections and a Barry Bonds sighting.
It’s safe to say, baseball is in full spring swing. And
I couldn’t be happier. Even with Bonds on my fantasy roster.
I chose an auto-draft for my fantasy league because I don’t
have as much time to devote to fantasy baseball as I do fantasy football (I am
already preparing for fantasy football season this weekend, as the NFL draft
develops).
No, fantasy baseball, for me, is a time to brag to friends
and keep in touch with people who otherwise might disappear over the long summer
apart and away from the office.
That is the point of the auto-draft. You get a team and work with what you’re
given.
I was given Bonds.
So, imagine my disappointment when I show up in the second
inning of Sunday’s game to find him sitting out of the lineup. Plus, I
had missed a bad-blood first inning that included two beaned batters and three
ejections.
The game turned out to be yet another surprising pitching duel
at the infamous bashing grounds we call Coors Field.
And, to the scorn of most of the audience, Bonds finally made
an appearance as a pitch hitter in the ninth inning. He struck out on a 94 mph
fastball by Jose Mesa (or Joe Table, for those who oppose immigration). Silently,
I was disappointed.
That’s right. I was hoping to see Barry bash one long
and deep into right field.
Not just because he’s on my fantasy team and I need
all the power I can get. And not because I’m a long-time Pittsburgh Pirates
fan (don’t you dare snicker) or because the Bucs were the team where
Bonds began his major league career.
No, I was rooting for Bonds for more reasons than just those.
I root for Bonds because he’s the antihero of my baseball generation. He’s
the guy I’ve watched abuse pitchers throughout the National League for
nearly 20 years, which is a good portion of my life.
See, Roger Maris was hated during his run on Babe Ruth in 1961.
And Hank Aaron was targeted heavily by fanatics for racial reasons. None of us
could reasonably condone that kind of behavior these days, could we?
So why do we condone the hating of Bonds? Sure, it’s
a pretty likely bet that Bonds has been under the influence of steroids and performance
enhancers. But the same holds true other potential Hall of Famers such as Jose
Canseco, Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Jason Giambi, Gary Sheffield and Rafael “I
did not take steroids” Palmeiro. All of them are or were more juiced than
me at my nephew’s bar mitzvah.
It certainly seems like an over-zealous witch-hunt to me.
The reason we condone the way Bonds is being treated is because
Bonds gives us the impression that he just doesn’t give a shit.
And that rattles the average fan.
We, as an audience, like to get under a player’s skin.
Bonds’ production might suggest fans have done that. But maybe he’s
just a 41-year-old who’s hit home runs off of more than 400 professional
pitchers and his body is finally wearing down.
Legitimacy is questionable throughout baseball in today’s
media-hyped virtual world. And Bonds is really no less legit than many others.
Sure, I’m a baseball purist. But what about technology?
Tighter wrapped balls? Corked bats? Fancy hitting gloves? The thin air of our
beloved Coors Field? Do we asterisk everything, or just let the boys of summer
be boys?
Where, and for whom, do we draw the limestone line?
I say swing away, Barry. And next time you come to Coors Field,
please take advantage…for me. |
