GARRETT WAIT
Sports Editor
The biggest sports news of my lifetime surfaced in December. Barry Bonds admitted to a federal grand jury that he took steroids. Bonds said he did it unknowingly, that everything he took was given to him by his trainer Gregg Anderson, and that he never asked Anderson exactly what was in the bottles.
However, as a Giants fan, and one of the most loyal Barry Bonds supporters around, I have to say enough is enough. I don’t want to hear that you did it unknowingly unless you can prove that it’s true, Barry.
I’ve stood by Bonds through thick and thicker. When he was gaining muscle mass almost as fast as the Incredible Hulk, I was there to dispel any notions of illegal substances. Bonds said he was just working out more, eating right and taking the right supplements. I fell for it hook, line and sinker.
I am a Giants fan first and foremost, a rational thinker second. I could never turn my back on Barry. He was the greatest player I had ever seen, and possibly the greatest player in the history of the game. Why would he need to take anything illegal to maintain his abilities?
Sure other players were on the juice, most notably Mark McGwire, who I never really liked. He was on that other Bay Area team when I was in my formative years as a fan. My dad and I had even joked about McGwire and Jose Canseco sharing needles in the A’s clubhouse.
But we had nothing to worry about. Barry was still a spindly No. 3 hitter with a lightning- quick bat. Sure he was getting old, but he was just getting better with age. People have done that before, you know.
Then the home run became cool again. Guys were pelting the upper deck at ballparks around the country as if they were teeing off on the good citizens up in the nosebleeds.
Bonds must have seen all that, in the magical year of 1998. He might have been jealous of the attention guys like Sosa and McGwire were getting. After all, he was Barry Lamar Bonds, godson of Willie Mays. He should have been the one in the spotlight.
He was the one who had led that 1993 Giants team to 103 regular season wins. He was the one with all the gold gloves. He was already a three-time National League MVP. He was the one who had more natural talent than anybody else who stepped on the field with him throughout the 1990s. He was the one whose godfather was a baseball deity.
Then in 2000 and 2001, he began to get bigger. His head looked like it was the size of a small car. I should have known then that he was dirty. But no, I was naive and I was a fan. I was also pretty enthralled by his 73 home runs in 2001, when he single-handedly tried to erase my memory of the events of that September.
He launched himself into the Baseball Pantheon, the one whose members were Mays, Williams, Ruth, Aaron and nobody else. He was shattering records left and right. He was the only man in the 500-500 club. Then he was the only one in the 600-600 club. And I was there every step of the way, watching with wide eyes, thinking about telling my grandchildren that I grew up in the Age of Barry.
I had only ever liked one athlete as much as I liked Bonds. His initials were MJ. He was the gold standard when I was an adolescent. Barry would be the gold standard all the way through high school and hopefully through college too.
That 2002 postseason was so incredible. I mean, my Giants were six outs away from a World Series title. It was all thanks to Barry. Even though San Francisco lost the Series, I couldn’t fault the guy who carried all of his Giants teammates and fans on his back throughout that season.
It seemed Barry was destined to take the record from Hank Aaron. It would happen in my lifetime, to my favorite baseball player ever who played on my favorite team. These were the thoughts that I had every time I heard anybody talking about the chase for 756.
Then BALCO, federal grand juries, THG, Victor Conte and the dreaded subpoena all rose up to bite me. Still, Barry maintained complete innocence and I defended him to everybody who said anything negative.
When Giambi’s testimony was leaked, Bonds’ name sprouted up immediately. I couldn’t believe it. Two days later, there it was, splashed across ESPN.com like their editors were playing a cruel joke on me. But I knew it wasn’t a joke. The greatest baseball player I had ever had a chance to root for was nothing more than a drug-using cheater.
It hurts so much. I feel like I’ve been betrayed. It feels like 11 years of my life as a fan were snatched from me in one fell swoop. Barry was larger than life, but now we know why. I thought Bonds was better than the rest, just an enormously talented player on whom I could lay all of my hopes as a Giants fan. I was such a fool.
Alas, he’s just a man like you and me, with the same temptations, just on a much larger and more profitable scale.
I guess that’s why Charles Barkley said athletes shouldn’t be role models. I didn’t understand that when he said it all those years ago.
Now I get it, and it kills me.
01-13-2005
