He’s Baaaaackkkk

Remember the time it would have been all but impossible to believe that Barry Bonds would ever not be a part of the institution of Major League Baseball? Remember the time when it would have been all but impossible to believe that the MLB, and specifically the San Francisco Giants, would ever allow Barry Bonds be a part of the organization in any official capacity? The man who captivated the world with his dominance at the plate, a once in a lifetime race to break an until then forever untouched record, and the man who also happens to be the Godson of baseball royalty, also happens to be the man who became the biggest disgrace to all of it. And guess what, he’s baaacckk!

It has just been announced that the man, the myth, the legend (as it were), Barry Lamar Bonds will be a special instructor for the San Francisco Giants during their spring camp this year.

Special indeed. Barry is such a Jekyll and Hyde. On one side, he has always been a bright eyed student of the game. A player who, while being blessed with all of the physical talent and baseball acumen available in 1964, never seemed to stop studying the game. He was never satisfied and was continually striving, working to be even better. However, your greatest strength can also be your greatest weakness, and that same drive could be exactly what lead Bonds to sell his soul to the devil, err Stan Conte. Enter Mr. Hyde. On his other side, #25 became obsessed with the accolades, with the attention, with the individual celebrations that follow any player who even comes close to threatening one of baseball’s longest standing records. It was seemingly no longer about the love of the game and the desire to be great, it was instead all about Barry becoming the man, the player, the one and only.

Many love Barry’s Mr. Hyde. They love him for the pure entertainment, excitement and sparkle that he brought to the diamond. Baseball is a game, and he played it perfectly. No harm, no foul, enjoy the show. Many more, however, believe Bonds to be a cheat; a cheat who hijacked the game and turned it into his own personal parade. He could have been one of the greats, but instead of being the next Hank Aaron, he became the next Pete Rose.

Much like Rose, I truly believe that Bonds never considered the consequences. Correction: I truly believe Bonds never considered there would be consequences. Whether he was blinded by the flash of the cameras or by his own ego, I believe Bonds expected to ride off into the fall sunset, wearing his crown built by homeruns, the celebrated king, while a retirement filled with personal appearances and countless coaching opportunities awaited him. Mr. Hyde, your humble pie is ready.

It’s hard not to have this rush of emotion and anger come back upon hearing the news that he’s back, especially as a Giants Fan. Like a bad break up, baseball fans were left empty and without closure. For god sakes, Barry, just admit it already! It will feel so much better, for all of us. Having him back is a slap in the face reminder of how it was, The Barry Bonds Giants of San Francisco. Nonetheless, all of the above does not take away the fact that Bonds’ approach and eye at the plate are that of baseball lore. To say that he has nothing to teach this team of Giants would just be a blind dumb lie. My hope is that Barry takes this opportunity given to him to start anew and perhaps even repent. I do believe in second chances. I know he misses the game, it’s who he is. I hope that he comes back to it that eager and excited Dr. Jekyll version of himself realizing that as much as he has to teach the young players of today, there is so much more that they have to teach him.

Welcome back, #25. Please don’t make me regret saying that.

Go Giants!

C

P.S. Before all of our smurf colored friends work themselves into a tizzy over this, allow me to remind you that your official, on the payroll, hitting coach is the Godfather of this shameful PED family. 

FINALLY!!

You know that feeling of pure frustration when you spend what seems like an eternity trying to explain something to someone, but no matter how many different ways to you try to explain it, no matter how many different angles you take, no matter how loud you get or how big your arm motions become, they just do not see what you see? Then- the feeling of absolute victory and vindication in the exact moment their eyes light up and they utter the phrase “Ohhh, yeah!!”?! No two feelings could sum more perfectly my emotions toward PED use in MLB and, more specifically, the reactions of the players to the admitted and the outed cheaters. Finally.

Finally the players, the clean players, are starting to get fed up. Finally they’re coming forward to publicly and vocally express their anger and feelings of betrayal. WHAT took them so long? I refuse, absolutely refuse, to believe that everyone in the League is dirty. No shot. So, why now? What about this situation, and this cheater, in particular has those who play the game purely so outraged that they’re breaking their silence and speaking out? Two words- The Code.

The tales of use of Performance Enhancing Drugs in Major League Baseball, in all of its levels, are just about as old as time. I truly find it difficult to remember a time when steroids were not a part of the MLB storyline. I can name more admitted and rumored PED cheaters off the top of my head, than I can U.S. Presidents. Bonds, McGuire, Giambi, Palmeiro, Ramirez, Cabrera, Canseco, Clemens, Rodriquez, and on and on and on. Oh, yeah, and Ryan Braun, too. Yet, not until this Braun character did the fraternity comprised of current and former Major League players seem to really notice, let alone care. The difference is that Ryan Braun made it personal. Rafael Palmeiro may have wagged his finger in the face of Congress while adamantly maintaining his innocence; Braun wagged his in the face of his brothers. Can you say “no, no”?

Braun pranced through the league like The Pied Piper of clean play, piping his song of innocence and injustice, recruiting and gathering followers and supporters along the way. Braun’s tune was so sweet that even the weariest seemed to buy the story his lyrics told. I have come to peace with the fact that I will never understand why; the flaw in the sample transporting process that his overpriced team of attorneys found and turned into a loophole and upheld appeal didn’t also miraculously turn the sample from positive to negative.  Alas, I digress. Braun led his army of believers and together they stormed the Capital, err Commissioner’s Office, fighting for the wrongly accused. There was just one problem; the Emperor wasn’t wearing any clothes.

I may be mixing my childhood fables, but the facts remain- Ryan Braun played everyone. Curt Schilling “feels betrayed”. Matt Kemp, who came in second to Braun in the NL MVP voting in 2011, is “disappointed” and “considered [Braun] a friend”, and also believes his MVP award should be taken away. Aaron Rodgers, who shares the Wisconsin stage with Braun, is partnered with him in a restaurant, and considers him his “best athlete friend”, wagered his entire 2013 salary via Twitter that his bestie was clean. Here’s a pretty solid rule to live by, guys- don’t leverage your character on someone unless you’re absolutely sure of theirs. Lesson learned. Time to right the wrong.

Braun had one thing right- there are those who deserve a voice, who deserve a chance. The players in farm systems across the country, playing in front of no one and living on Ramen noodles to survive while they work as hard as they possibly can, and harder, to realize their dream of making it to The Bigs. Not to mention, the players who have made it, who are realizing their dream, thanks to hard work and dedication, without taking short cuts, who are being robbed of stats, of awards, of their legacy.  

The Institution of Baseball has a fighting chance to get clean if the players police themselves. Nobody likes a rat, and The Code, though unwritten, explicitly states that tattle telling is a clear violation, but the betrayal of your brothers is a much, much worse offense. It’s time. Finally.

C

P.S. Special shout out to Brett Pill (@PillzRgood) who is a first baseman playing for the San Francisco Giants’ AAA affiliate, the Fresno Grizzlies. And who also happens to be my new hero. If I ever create a Twitter handle, he will undoubtedly be my first follow.

Ryan Braun, PED's and Blue Skies

Ryan Braun lied. Ryan Braun is a cheater. And in other news, the sky is blue.

It is just about as shocking to me that Ryan Braun lied about being clean as I am that the sun rose in the east this morning. Why wouldn’t he? There is no downside, no real consequence either way. At the end of the day, Braun is just the next in a long, seemingly never ending, line of professional athletes who use, and subsequently lie about using, Performance Enhancing Drugs (PED’s). Ryan Braun isn’t the problem; he is a product, the result, of the problem. It is time to address the elephant in the room- the root of the PED epidemic in Baseball.

Major League Baseball, in particular, has created a culture that not only fosters, but encourages, the use of PED’s. Yep, I said it. Whether this culture was created knowingly and purposefully, or whether it is the byproduct of a campaign to do anything possible to save Baseball from itself after the ’94 strike, I can’t say and we may never know. It almost doesn’t matter. What does matter is that this epidemic is a runaway train that lost its brakes hundreds of miles ago. It has gotten so out of control, and so beyond itself, that one could fairly easily argue that players in the Major League system, at any level, are stupid not to juice else risk losing their job to someone who does, or worse- never get the job in the first place. Think about that, MLB has created a league in which players are putting themselves at a huge disadvantage if they DON’T cheat. Bueller?!

The worst part of all of this is that somewhere along the way, we lost the game. The game as we knew it, America’s pastime, has become completely unrecognizable and, instead, we’re left with the love child of MLB The Show and the WWE. For shame. The only way any of this is going to change is if the consequences of PED use become greater than the contracts, dollars and infamy the competitive advantage their use affords. Give me a break with the 50 and 100 game suspensions. Why not just give known offenders a tropical vacation and a welcome back bash upon their return? If you’d have told me in High School that the consequences for being caught cheating were a 5 day suspension for the first offense and a 10 day suspension for the second offense, after which I’d be welcomed back to class with the grade my cheating earned me fully intact, you’d better believe I’d have been a 4.0 student with a few multiple day vacations. The only way to clean up the game and to restore it anywhere close to its glory, is if being caught hits cheaters where it matters- in their pocket books and in their legacies. Wipe their numbers from the record books and ban them from the game they claim to love. Aggressive? I’d bet those Major Leaguers who do play the game cleanly don’t think so.

Baseball, in its purest form, is a wonderful game. A game that transcends generations, age, and nationality, and if this latest scandal has taught us anything, it’s that it is time to stop paying lip service to cleaning up the game, and to actually do it.

C

PS- Aaron Rodgers, if you were going to reprise the role of Squints Palledorous from the Sandlot, I hope Benny at least hooked you up with a new pair of PF Flyers.