|
|
Aaron passes the torch to Bonds
SAN FRANCISCO -- Before the baseball winds up on eBay, before we make up our minds what the new record means (if we can) and before Pedro Gomez is assigned to follow around Alex Rodriguez, let's pause for a few words from the former home run king.
"I would like to offer my congratulations to Barry Bonds on becoming baseball's career home run leader," Hank Aaron said in a video message played on the scoreboard after Bonds hit his 756th home run. "It is a great accomplishment which requires skill, longevity and determination. Throughout the past century, the home run has held a special place in baseball and I have been privileged to hold this record for 33 of those years. I move over now and offer my best wishes to Barry and his family on this historical achievement.
"My hope today, as it was on that April evening in 1974, is that the achievement of this record will inspire others to chase their own dreams."
The words struck the proper note on a historic night, especially compared to commissioner Bud Selig shoving his hands in his pockets and stifling a yawn for 755. Hank's message was simple, gracious and encouraging. A lot of people hold differing opinions on what Bonds has achieved (and how), but Hank reminded us that records are set, records are broken and what really matters is how those numbers move and inspire us.
"It meant everything, absolutely everything," Bonds said of the message. "We've all admired Hank Aaron, all have so much respect for him, everyone in the game. Right now, everything's hitting me so fast, I'm at a loss for words again but it was absolutely the best."
What makes the new record controversial is that we want the number to mean what the old number did. But that's also what makes baseball so special, so wonderful -- the way that what happens today is always connected to what happened yesterday. Bonds, of course, is the son of an All-Star and the godson of a legend. The pitcher he hit the record-breaker off, Mike Bacsik, is the son of former major league pitcher Mike Bacsik who pitched to Aaron when Hank had 755 home runs as well.
"If my dad had been gracious enough to give up a home run to Hank, we'd both have given up 756," Bacsik said. "I'm excited. We won the game and I got to see history. I dreamed about this when I was a kid. Unfortunately when I dreamed about it, I was the one hitting the home run."
After giving up a single and a double earlier in the game, Bacsik ran the count full to Bonds in the fifth. With the best hitter of his generation waiting at the plate and what felt like the entire city of San Francisco leaning in, Bacsik threw a fastball, trying to go down and away. Bonds had other plans.
One moment the baseball was heading to home plate in the mid-80s and the next it was rocketing the opposite direction much, much faster.
Bonds instantly knew the ball would land in the bleachers, which he should after hitting so many home runs. He raised both arms in jubilation and watched the ball clear the center-field fence, then circled the bases while fireworks exploded in the sky and fans cheered.
Fans elsewhere may have conflicting opinions of Bonds, but not San Francisco fans. They know what his 15 seasons with the team mean. There were fans who have attended Giants games practically since they moved to San Francisco and there were fans who were at their very first game (and won't they have something to tell their grandkids?). They clapped and whistled, hugged and slapped hands, laughed and cried.
Meanwhile, the home run glanced off the index finger of a fan named Brian Herman ("I thought it broke my finger") and then bounced into the crowd to his left. Fans dove into a furious scrum and the guy who eventually came up with the ball was a man identified as Matt Murphy, a 22-year-old from Queens in a Mets jersey who was passing through San Francisco on his way to Australia. Security guards waded into the mass and helped Murphy leave the stadium with the ball firmly in his grasp.
However much the ball eventually brings at auction, there is one person who won't be bidding. "I don't want the ball," Bonds said. "I never ever believed a home run ball belonged to a player. If he caught it, it's his."
When Bonds reached home plate, he pointed emphatically to the sky in recognition of his late father, Bobby. He was greeted by his family and teammates, applauded by the Nationals. He hugged his wife and he hugged his mother. "My mom has always been there, she's the one who drove me to my Little League games and took me to school all the time," he said later. "My mom was the concession stand lady, selling hot dogs out of the concession stand. My mom was the one who was there when my dad was never there."
He pointed to several sections of the stadiums, saluting the fans. Then he walked down to the third-base line where he met Willie Mays. "Willie has been there for me ever since my dad has been gone, been that mentor to me and kept me strong."
Barry took a microphone and thanked the fans. Giants manager Bruce Bochy sent Bonds out to left field to start the next inning, then immediately replaced him with Rajai Davis so that the new home run king could run off the field in the spotlight again.
The game resumed 10 minutes after the home run, but it was pretty much an afterthought at that point. Who, after all, remembers the score of the game Hank hit No. 715?
So now we have a new number to replace 755. At least until Bonds hits 757 or 775 or whatever he ends with (he says he'll be back next year). The greatest record in sports? A tainted number? You're free to decide for yourself. As Bonds has. "This record is not tainted at all. At all. Period. You guys can write anything you want."
Whatever you think of Bonds, eventually someone will break his record. That's the way baseball works. As Mays said before the game, "It's all about history. Pretty soon someone will come along and pass him."
Jim Caple is a senior writer for ESPN.com.
http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/co ... _jim&id=2965743
Experts: Bonds as the new HR king
Barry Bonds is the new home run king, having passed Hank Aaron on the all-time list. But with allegations of performance-enhancing drug use swirling around the controversial slugger, how should we view Bonds' accomplishment? Some of ESPN.com's experts offer their perspective on Bonds' No. 756.
Jerry Crasnick: "Why should anybody care?"
I've never been comfortable with the knee-jerk label of "cheater" to describe every athlete who stretches the moral boundaries for an edge. Willie Mays liked red juice, Pete Rose took "greenies" to lose weight, and Barry Bonds, we're told, used performance-enhancing drugs because he was jealous of Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa. Pass around the truth serum, and you'll find it's not a very exclusive club. Was Bonds' decision regrettable? Sure. Did it tarnish his achievements? I'll buy that. But the lure of public acceptance, money or immortality can entice men to do strange things. When we're talking about drug use in relation to NFL linemen, Tour de France participants or home run hitters, we can be awfully selective with our outrage. Personally, I'm as put off by Bonds' lack of human relations skill as the contents of his medicine cabinet. Few athletes in history have been as consistently boorish, joyless, self-absorbed or seemingly oblivious to the impression they create. Yes, we know Bonds has emotional baggage. But does the rest of the world constantly have to lug it around for him? Record-setting runs are as much about the warm feelings and enduring memories they generate as the numbers in the Baseball Encyclopedia. If we can't embrace Bonds because of his personality and we can't admire him because of the short cuts he took, why should anybody care that he's baseball's home run champion? The answer is, lots of people don't. Now that Bonds has No. 756 in the bank, most folks outside San Francisco wish he would just pack up his bats and size 8 hats and go away. Are you happy with that legacy, Barry?
Pedro Gomez: "Trust your eyes"
The record book may now indicate Barry Bonds is the new home run king. But that doesn't mean fans -- both outside and inside the game -- have to recognize Bonds' spot above Hank Aaron. The beauty baseball has always maintained over other sports is accountability in the fans' perspective. You can trust your eyes in baseball. An error is an error. A missed bunt attempt is just that. What you see is, well, what you see. A pitcher who is throwing 88 mph at the end of one season and is magically hitting 98 on the gun the next spring? That's just not humanly possible, at least not without some form of help. Same goes for home run hitters, and Bonds tops this list. Not just because the only time he ever hit more than 49 home runs was when he reached 73 in 2001, but also because of the numerous allegations that Bonds used chemical help to reach late-career highs. Whether baseball or its fans want to admit it, these last 15 years will forever be viewed as the steroids era. Some say Bonds is being unfairly picked on. Maybe, but remember, the lab he used, BALCO, was the one the federal government raided. Bonds' name was front and center in the BALCO investigation and it's front and center among a large faction that simply does not believe he is the new home run king.
Tim Kurkjian: "An imaginary asterisk"
I will acknowledge Barry Bonds for what he has done: hit more home runs than anyone in history. It is a fascinating accomplishment, one that's worthy, on some level, of celebration. We have never taken records away in baseball history, and we should not take this one away unless we're prepared to take away a whole bunch of records and achievements during this era. We shouldn't put an asterisk next to it, either. There already is -- and always will be -- an imaginary asterisk next to this era. We should do what baseball has always done with its records and controversies: attach a story to them, and then let our best baseball fans -- they believe something fishy went on here -- decide how to recognize this achievement. As for Hank Aaron, he no longer will have the most home runs of anyone in history, but his legacy will not be lessened. Bonds' chase has given us another chance to celebrate the greatness of Aaron's career, and the strength of his purpose. His legacy might even be strengthened because, as far as we know, he hit 755 home runs naturally, legally and honestly.
Keith Law: "The home run king, period"
Barry Bonds is the new home run king, period. Record books should be free of moral judgments or other subjective criteria. Unless Major League Baseball intends to go back and invalidate some of Bonds' home runs, he'll have the highest total until someone else (whether it's Alex Rodriguez or Ken Griffey Jr. or someone else) breaks his record in turn.
Rob Neyer: "A product of his times"
I've got a clipping from ESPN The Magazine on my bulletin board: two photos, one snapped in 1993, the other in 2004. In both photos, the subject is Barry Bonds. Without the captions, though, you might not guess you're looking at the same person, 11 years apart. It's clear that Bonds has "improved" himself in a way or ways that simply were not available to the great sluggers of the past. Does this mean his record is somehow not "valid" or well-earned? Like it or not, he's a product of his times. If Bonds has broken the rules (and yes, probably the law), the only real difference between him and many of his peers is that he's broken the rules better than everybody else. If you're a Giants fan, you're probably glad he cared enough to be the very best player he could be, whatever the means. Which does not mean the rest of us have to be happy for him. For different reasons, Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron were sympathetic figures, and so it was easy to enjoy their successes. For various reasons, it's not easy to take pleasure in Barry Bonds' many feats of strength. Whether you choose to blame him or us, that's just the way it is.
Steve Phillips: "Sitting and clapping"
I've been asked frequently about what I would do if I were at the game when Barry Bonds broke Henry Aaron's record: Would I stand and clap or sit on my hands? In fact what I would have done is sit and clap. Barry Bonds is an amazing player. He is one of the best players of all time regardless of what he might have taken. He is a superstar player and a first-ballot Hall of Famer. I have tremendous respect for him as a player and talent. He has done it all in his career. He deserves to be recognized as one of the best ever. For a day or a week or maybe even a month I would like to just celebrate Bonds and his greatness. I want to stand and cheer and salute him for how truly amazing he is. I want to have the feelings for him that take me back to my youth when I got goose bumps when Henry Aaron circled the bases after hitting No. 715. But … I just can't get there. I can't help but feel that this remarkable accomplishment has been diminished by the overwhelming circumstantial evidence that Bonds cheated. I cannot boo the man because he is a remarkable, unbelievable player who I often wished had played for my team. But I cannot celebrate the way I really want to either. Instead, I am the one sitting and clapping.
Jayson Stark: "What we've lost"
The biggest tragedy of the steroids era is that it has robbed us of the magic -- the magic of the greatest numbers in sports. People used to walk down Main Street -- in your town, in any town -- and hear those numbers rattling around their brains. They knew what 60 meant. And 61. And 714. And 755. They weren't just baseball numbers. They were milestones from our entire culture. You didn't have to be some geeky baseball fan to know them. Women and kids and grandmothers knew them. They were numbers so powerful, you could hear the home run calls in your head if you listened hard enough. No other sport had any numbers like them. And no one should ever underestimate the importance of that. It's because of what those numbers used to mean that No. 756 and the man who hit it are still enough to make that home run a momentous news event. But it's what we've lost that's the bigger story, to me. We've lost the ability to witness these moments and hear our hearts thumping, or feel our emotions flowing. Too many people now are cynical about what just happened and why it happened for these numbers to feel the same again. And not just 756. All of them.
http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2950598 |
|