The Bad News Bonds

Man, can you believe the insane run of bad luck a guy like Barry Bonds has to deal with?

I mean, in 2003, he testifies that if he indeed took any performance-enhancing drugs over the course of his career, they were given to him by his trainer and he had NO IDEA that they were, in fact, performance-enhancing drugs. The trainer, Bonds’s longtime friend Greg Anderson, is currently serving time in prison for refusing to testify against Bonds.

And now, after word is leaked that Bonds tested positive for amphetamines last August, he said that he had gotten them from teammate Mike Sweeney and that he had NO IDEA that what he had taken were, in fact, amphetamines. As a result, Sweeney now has to undergo drug testing, too.

Sweeney, at least, got an apology from Bonds - after all this was made public, of course. Anderson is still in prison, and firmly parked under the bus.

Barry? We know. We’ve known for a while. Please stop trying to pin your failings on others - whether those others are Greg Anderson, or Mike Sweeney, or the media, or the baseball establishment, or…well, you get the point. I think it’s time a little of the responsibility fall on those increasingly broad shoulders.

Thing is, there’s still time to fix this. We are a very forgiving nation, really. People let most anything slide if you add the words, “…and I’m sorry.” Heck, I’m even starting to hear the old “Pete Rose should be in the Hall of Fame” rumblings again, two years after folks assumed he had committed enshrinement suicide by admitting to betting on baseball. It may take a while, but outrage will fade, as long as you face up to the truth.

Mark McGuire learned that lesson the hard way earlier this week. Bonds’s legacy is facing a similar disgrace - a theoretical asterisk bigger than anything Ford Frick could dream up.

But with Bonds a scant 22 home runs away from being the all-time champ, there is still a way out. He could tell the truth. He could apologize. He could face up and take responsibility for his actions. He could bow out gracefully and let Hank Aaron remain atop the mountain.

There’s still a chance, Barry. There’s a chance until the moment #756 sails out of the park. Which is better? A moment of true nobility or a lifetime of doubt?