Why I Can't Totally Root Against Barry Bonds

The post title is a reflection of the sad ambivalence I and many others feel about Giants slugger Barry Bonds' sluggish pursuit of the single most prestigious individual record in sports: Hank Aaron's 756 career homers. Unlike others, I am not going to recite a list of reasons why I'm rooting against him. Though I can't say I'm overjoyed about him breaking the mark, I'm not angry about it or anything.

After all, he is a tremendous player who has arguably, at least on some level, earned it. It's not like when some second-tier player threatens a record and I find him unworthy. When the Baltimore Ravens' Jamal Lewis went for the NFL single season rushing record against the Steelers a few years back, I did root like hell against him--partly because he was a Raven, but also because I didn't feel he was a superstar worthy of having that honor.

Plus, I try to treat people the way they treat me, and--INNOCENT NAME DROP COMING UP--the one time I met Barry Bonds, he couldn't have been cooler. It was at a small baseball card show at least 15 years ago (Bonds was still with the Pirates at the time), and he was signing autographs as the featured guest.

My grandmother drove me to the show. After arriving hella early, the two of us waited patiently near the tables that were set up for the guest of honor. Little did we know that some kind of system was set up wherein autograph seekers had to get a ticket and wait for their number to come up. Little did we know...until the guy running the show told us right after Bonds arrived and the whole shebang was about underway! By this time, quite the line had assembled, presumably filled with good citizens who arrived late enough to see whatever sign had been posted informing them of the rules.

Here's the cool thing: While the guy was basically telling us we had to go back and wait in line, Barry (Yeah, I can call him Barry; I met him, you know) said something like, "Aw, come on, it's all right," and let us sign first. Not only did he sign a ball and an 8X10, but he also posed for a quick polaroid (the good citizens in line must have either thought I had "special needs" or cursed us without mercy). In case you're wondering, he smiled in the picture.

Does that make Barry Bonds a great guy? I guess not. I've been annoyed by some of his actions and statements in the 15+ years since that day. But it's hard for me to feel the rage so many fans outside of San Francisco do. It's not like I know him or anything. But the one time I met Barry Bonds, he was a class act, and he made me feel pretty darned good.

So, America, boo #756 all you want, and I won't blame you. But though I don't think I'll be cheering when I see it, I won't be participating in the jeering.