Bonds Hits No. 715, A Nation Yawns in Defiance

Bonds Passes Babe, Fans Unite In Their Indifference

May 29th, 2006

Barry Bonds, he of the engorged physique and less-than-approachable attitude, hit home run number 715 yesterday against Byun-Hyung Kim of the Rockies to claim sole ownership to the #2 spot for career homers.
Congratulations?
You know, I think that's what I'm supposed to say.
Good Work?
Nice Job?
You're the Best?
No, no...somehow, none of those fit.

How about GET BENT?
Or GO SUCK AN EGG?
Wait, Wait, I got it...BITE ME. There, that's the one.

Bonds has the number 2 spot now, and there's nothing we can do about it. That is, except what we already have done.

Respond with indifference. And that's what has happened, to a great extent.

Does it really seem like this is a nation that is embracing Bonds as a living legend? Not really.
I have to say, I don't get the "warm and fuzzies" when I think of our friend Barry. Rather, I get more than a little nauseous. And Barry's semi-regular lament, "How could someone hate someone else that they don't even know?", makes me want to plan a reunion with my lunch. The thing is, Barry, we DO know you. We know you from every single rude comment you made to a reporter, from everytime you turned a blind eye to a child who only wanted you to sign his/her program, from each F-bomb you dropped indiscriminately in the presence of those who were 'beneath you', from the utter disdain and isolationism with which you approached your teammates.

In other words, Barry, we see a pattern. That pattern indicates one absolute when it comes to you: Noone else matters.

You might make it through this season without spending half of it on the DL. You may get a whole lot closer to Aaron. You may even pass him. But if you do, it will only be numbers on a page. Hank Aaron knew what it was to be hated. You use the word 'hate' as a punchline. Aaron beat Ruth's record while enduring venom from total strangers so vile and perverse that a lesser man would have likely quit the game. You have a lot of hate directed at you, to be sure, but for a completely different reason: you created it. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, Aaron should have received a medal for what he endured. But for all the aformentioned reasons, the record book of public sentiment and the memory of baseball fans everywhere will share one common
opinion of you. And that is this: "You, sir, are no legend. "

So when the day comes, if it must, and you finally pass Aaron for sole ownership of first place, I dearly hope that all the hurt, all the disapointment, all the disgust, all the empty feelings you have ever engendered in the fans, reporters, and everyone else who has had the great misfortune of making your acquantaince or witnessed the grand illusion that is now your baseball legacy, and every rude, obnoxious or out and out foul word you have ever spoken to anyone comes to bear on you and your moment in the sun. And it is my sincere hope and desire that fans, media members, and all who watch at home will take just a few seconds out of their lives, lives that would be so meaningless without having witnessed the majesty that is Barry Bonds, and stand up from their seats, open their mouths....

And yawn.


Clinton Riddle
Green Diamonds

The Best Is Yet To Come

Verlander, Papelbon, Willingham Among Dozens of Young Talents Leading Baseball Into New Golden Age

Most baseball fans out there tend to keep up with the up and coming rookies that make it through Spring Training each year and stick with the big club. Well, for those of you who have a pulse, you might have noticed a few things about this year's model. I do believe we're about to see a changing of the guard.
Yes, friends, this year is the Year of the Rookie.
We are about to see an new Golden Age in baseball, one that will make us all remember why we love The Game in the first place.
Now, I know that being this early in the season, this all sounds like so much bandwagoning, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that the young talent currently in The Show is legitimate.
Take, for instance, Justin Verlander, who was recently clocked at 101 mph...on his 98th pitch of the game.
Or Jonathan Papelbon, who is spurring the semi-new look Red Sox to the dominant level that led them to their first WS title in 86 years in 2004.
How about Zach Duke, who as a former 20th round pick (!) is now one of the top young pitching talents in the majors?
There are lesser known pitchers who could very well be impact players this year. Sean Marshall is one of them. The young Cubs lefty is in a position to eat up a lot of innings that might have gone to Prior or Wood, assuming either of the two could manage to stay in one piece. Marshall's been working rather closely with Greg Maddux (actually, when you've amassed the career numbers and accolates that he has, they call you MR. Maddux), and should be expected to remain a solid contributor to the Cubbies' rotation. I watched this guy NO-HIT THE A'S for 9 innings in spring training with a 91 mph tailing fastball and a wicked sick curve. He knows what he's doing.
And the hitters! Josh Willingham is set to make a serious dent in NL pitching for the Fish, utilizing an astoundingly selective eye at the plate that could match that of Kevin Youkilis. Matt Murton hits the ball like he means it, and seems to possess intangibles unseen in players his age.
Edwin Encarnacion could be a special player, assuming his early season fielding miscues are a byproduct of rookie nerves and not something far more ominous....like the Stone Glove Syndrome. Dave Kingman, are you listening? Ryan Zimmerman is going to turn a lot of scouts' heads, even more so than he already has.
When Albert Pujols came up in 2001, we all felt like we were seeing a special player at work, not just a star talent, but a once-in-a-generation kind of player. Well, I'm here to tell you something: we haven't seen nothing, yet. With talents like Willingham, Zimmerman, Murton, Verlander, Papelbon and Duke, we may finally see the kind of baseball our grandfathers talked about.
The kind of baseball that makes you remember you were there.

Say hello to the early days of the new Golden Age of Baseball.

Do yourself a favor. Don't miss it.

Clinton Riddle
Writer
Green Diamonds