The Trouble with Barry
When Barry Bonds pretends to be upset after a Giants' loss, despite his hitting a milestone-setting home run, he's so transparent you can see through him.
When he speaks of his accomplishments, and of Mark McGwire, Frank Robinson and Willie Mays, and says exactly what he's supposed to say, with lines like "I really appreciate what they've done for the game and I'm honored to be in the same class" and "I marvel at wins", I just want to hurl.
Watch his eyes and you can just feel his annoyance at having to recall the suggested wording, fuming at the prospect of another prep session with the PR flack if he doesn't get it right, a session which usually goes something like this:
PR flack: "Please try Barry, just this once, it'll all be over before you know it. It won't kill you, please say the right thing. You don't have to smile, you don't have to be nice, lie if you want to, just remember your cues please. Put the pain of your life into your performance. Bree-aathe, projj-eect. All the greats did it; Brando, Olivier, Lemmon.
Barry Bonds: Who, American Leaguers? Oh I know, Tim Brando, ESPN second tier guy, does harness-racing I think. Joe Olivier, Reds' catcher, never much of a stick. Lemon, Steinbrenner's boy.
Flack: Please, just try it.
Bonds: I'm not gonna try it, you try it.
Flack: Let's get Mikey. No, we can't. You're up Barry. After you there's just that Kent creep, a lost case. It's all on you. Just pretend it's the regular season; you'll be fine.
Something like that. The point is, Bonds has been so damn obnoxious for so damn long, that even when he tries to be normal, he comes off as obnoxious. His yearly pleas for tolerance with tough interviewers like Roy Firestone or Larry King backfire every time. And what's really funny is that he thinks he's unique and special with his off-the-field persona, but his act is as old as the prima donna star of the London stage
Bonds doesn't do steroids, by the way. If Barry's on anything, it's Andro
If it seems like I'm picking on the Giants with my recent columns, I'm really not. It's just what comes naturally. BS is an LA site. There, I said it. And besides, I have as many readers as Barry Bonds has rings. Wait, that didn't come out right
Let's review how medical protocol is supposed to work, shall we. Star player with big contract gets hurt and wants to come back when he wants to come back. He decides, right? Wrong. No. Never.
37 or 27, righty or lefty, pitcher, catcher, veteran or rook, the ball player is the last guy to have a say. He's not objective, nor should he be. Neither is the manager, and if it's Pete Rose, all bets are really off. The pecking order goes this way, always and with no variation: Doctor, General Manager, manager, player. Doctor, General Manger, manager, player
Yes, the play of the LA baseball squad has been inspired this year, but the real treat is, we made it to June without a single "It's Only May..."
Perhaps therapy is in order, but when I was a kid, I thought Al Kaline was responsible for the Alkaline battery. Guys had to work during the off season in those days you know, and I thought maybe making batteries was Kaline's gig....
Angels? Don't care
David Wells is the first major league player to get an all-new, free, genuine BS baseball cap (they're Flexfit for maximum comfort, you know) from yours truly. I suggested he wear it in the post-game, next trip into Fenway. I'm betting he has the balls
Looks like I'm the holdout. BaseballSavvy.com is an Ozzie Osbourne-free zone. Proud of it
MacGyver is a five-tool player
One basketball note. Like I said, no Rick Adelman-coached team can ever win an NBA championship. Not in this millenium, not in the last one, and almost assuredly, not in the next one
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