Many people will sound off about Barry Bonds and his new record, some with hate and contempt, others with praise and relief. When Bonds broke the record, I felt only one feeling: regret. Regret that a man I once looked up to could have strayed so far from how I thought I knew him.
When I was a little, little kid still living in Pittsburgh I was a big Pirates fan. I even have a hat that is about a size two that family friends gave me back then. That last year in the Burgh that I lved there, he hit .311, 34 HRs, and had 103 RBIs. When he was at bat, much like now, everyone was on their feet. We loved him.
It makes me very sad to think that now, 15 years later, this man has become such a mockery of his former self due to steroids. I would have rather seen him hit about 600 HRs and stay true to himself, rather than bring shame to himself and the rest of what is a great baseball family. It frustrates me that he could have avoided drugs and still remained a Hall of Famer. I don't understand it and I wish it was different. It just doesn't make sense to me why an already great player would risk so much just to be remembered for a little something more.
Now, others will hope that Barry is punished in the next life or in this one, but I have only one wish for Barry Lamarr Bonds- that today, with the record finally broken, that he feels as empty and depressed as I feel now. I don't care about an indictment, or divine judgement, I just hope that at the end of the day Barry looks back at his life and wonders, if only for a minute, how he could've been different. How he could have been loved instead of reviled if he just had not done what he has supposedly done. How he could be in the top 15 or 20 of all time great players without an sterisk by his name. He could have played the game his way, retired, made the Hall of Fame on the first ballot and been proud of what he's done. Unfortunately, deep in his heart I don't think he can be.
I will always remember Barry Bonds, that's for sure. So will anyone else alive and following sports in this era. I will remember the great lead off man I loved and the gargantuan slugger I struggled to recognize as the man I used to know. But the thing I will remember above all others is just a number. Nothing else, not the man, not any other accomplishment, not even all his other more legitimate records, of which there are many. No, I will only remember one number and that is, of course, 756*.
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