Hey Barry Bonds, I cannot stick up for you any longer..


The Fan's picture


To * barry bonds*

From: True Baseball Fans

You are the poster child for what is wrong with not only OUR GAME, but American society in general.

Why cann't you act like a real man and come clean? We know you used the juice. Do you think we are idiots? We will think much better of you if you would just level with us. Your records will ALWAYS be tarnished but you could still save your image. You could do far more good, for so many kids, by telling the whole truth, than ten lifetimes as a ballplayer. You could be a true hero. We appeal to the goodness in you to do the right thing and tell our kids your way was wrong and why. You could change the world. Isn't that more important than meaningless, tarnished baseball records? Show us you are a real man. Do the right thing.



The Fan

Mr. MAN's picture


Today *bonds said that steriods would'nt help your hand-eve co-ordination. But would'nt it help someone who already had worked their whole life developings their hand-eye co-ordination? It sure seems that if you had more strength that some balls that would have just been long outs would now be over the fence. Over the course of a 162 game season this could easily be 20-30 more HR's.

Barry Bonds* is a cheater. You would have to be a complete moron to still think he didn't "juice up". All his records mean absolutely nothing now. Maybe a real ball player like the BABE would have hit 1000 hr's with a little help.

*Bonds and the likes of him should be kicked out of baseball and their numers stricken from all records!

MR. Maris is still the single season record holder in my mind and any true baseball (not juiceball) fans mind.

A real man would admit his mistakes and take his medicine. So far *barry has shown what he is, just another punk.

aaron's picture


dale, thanks for taking the time to write such a well thought out 'article' about the game. i think you said it well!

Dale Andersen's picture


Sometime soon, next year, or the year after, Henry Aaron's career home run record is gonna be broken. Barry Bonds has 703 home runs. Hammering Hank's record stands at 755. Do the math. It's gonna happen, sure as the acne on Jason Giambi's back.

Hank Aaron, in his prime, stood exactly six feet tall, weighed one hundred eighty pounds. If you saw him up close on the street, you'd say he looked like a very fit average size human being, not like one of your basic modern ballplayers with a butt out to here and a chip on his shoulder the size of a cow turd and forearms that make him look like a circus geek.

Hank Aaron's swing matched his attitude. Crisp. Elegant. Dignified. When he smashed a home run, which was often, he did not stand at the plate, like Barry Bonds does, and admire the ball in its trajectory. Hank ran the bases like the rule book said. Hank was into the integrity of the game. The one thing he wasn't into was himself. Some people think baseball needs more Hank Aarons and fewer Barry Bonds.

I disagree. Baseball does not need Hank Aaaron's dignity. Nor does it need his integrity. Baseball's been getting along fine without either. If you wanna know the truth, nobody connected with baseball cares about dignity or integrity anymore.

Time was, though, when almost everyone cared. A popular film underscored how much people cared. "Field of Dreams" was the name of the film and it was released in 1989, one year prior to what I like to call baseball's Steroid Era. In the movie, James Earl Jones delivers an impassioned speech in which he says, regardless of the times, you could always count on baseball to be a standard for decency, dignity, excellence and doing the right thing. It was a powerful moment.

But that's all over. In the 90's, baseball went from whore to pimp to crackhead without batting an eye. Whore, because baseball stood there and winked while the owners and players conspired to sex up the game. Pimp, because basball stood there and winked while the owners and players screwed the fans out of a World Series in 1994. Crackhead, because baseball stood there and winked while clubhouses morphed into drug dens.

Barry Bonds is gonna to break Mister Aaron's record. But lemme tell you this. It won't mean a thing. No one, except the most out of touch fan, will take that man's numbers seriously. Thanks to steroids, everyone's gonna put a mental asterisk beside his mark. And it's too damn bad. But that's what you get when you're so into yourself that you're out of touch with the game and the fans.

And it's not just Barry Bonds. Take Randy Johnson. Five Cy Young Awards. Just traded to the Yankees. First thing he does in New York? Roughs up a newspaper camera man. You'd think he'd be delighted to have his picture in the paper so his numerous fans could delight in the Big Unit's handsome visage. But no.

You want more out of touch? Two years ago, I was at a Cactus League game in Arizona. Diamondbacks and the Angels. After the game, a hundred or so kids lined up at the fence to get autographs. When who should come walking by but multi-millionaire Curt Schilling? Doesn't even flash the kids a smile. Just walks on by like they don't exist. And I'm thinking, "You sorry sack of shit! You and Barry and Randy and all your fat-ass overpaid overweight circus-geek WWF compadres are exactly why no one cares anymore. You can all go fuck yourselves."

Sometime next year, or the year after, Henry Aaron's career home run record is gonna be broken. Barry Bonds has 703 home runs. Hammering Hank's record stands at 755. Just do the math.

Then ask me if I care.