Hold the Front Page: Barry Was Juiced

Consider the evidence. The monster-sized melon head; the bulging eyes; the mood swings and ill temper; the testimony of others to his steroid use, and, indeed, his own admission of (part) culpability. Finally, and crucially, the statistical anomaly of his post-1998 career. Face it — we don't need two guys from the San Francisco Chronicle to tell us BALCO Barry was playing dirty.

I'm sure Mark Fainaru-Wade and Lance Williams have done a fine job on "Game of Shadows." It's probably a worthy tome, but I, for one, won't be logging onto Amazon for it. Personally, I've had enough of BALCO Barry to last me a lifetime. I've had enough of his freak show antics, his selfish approach to a team sport, his moody and self-pitying nature, his pouting, his cartoon body, his bulging hate-filled eyes, and his adoring entourage of assorted children, partners, ex-partners, relatives, and hangers-on. Hell, I even hate Willie Mays at this point simply for being his godfather. Just get this guy off the field, off the back page, and into well-deserved obscurity.

If I have to hear another ESPN or FOX cretin tell me that steroids do nothing to improve hand-eye coordination, I'll give up sport and take up an interest in 12th century English church music. Why do sportscasters think the audience have an IQ of less than three figures? The sporting public are well aware that taking steroids doesn't instantly make you a world-class athlete or else we'd all try it. We are aware, however, that taking steroids give you arms the size of tree trunks and thus the ability to hit baseballs into McCovey Cove — if you have outstanding hand-eye coordination to begin with.

According to Fainura-Wade and Williams, Bonds started juicing in 1998 after he watched McGwire and Sosa slug it out for the home run record. Certainly, his stats point to this. Previous to 1998, Bonds had decent, but not outstanding power, could steal a base and work the count. His career was meandering to an end in his mid-30s with, at best, a faint hope of making Cooperstown. He needed something to kick start his career — and his earnings — before retirement. BALCO had just what he needed.

The rest is history. Some of us — and I'm proud to say I wasn't alone — hated every single second of Bonds' successful home run record chase. But I'm ashamed to say I loved every second of McGwire's. Just as Bonds is guilty as hell, so was McGwire. So was Sosa. The summer of '98, on record as reviving a sport dying a slow, painful death, was a total phoney and I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. The only consolation is that millions of others did, too.

Apologists point to the fact that neither Bonds, McGwire, nor Sosa did anything against the rules, as baseball didn't have a steroid policy until 2002. That's not a fact that baseball should be bragging about. If it had attempted to stamp out this problem earlier, as the NFL has, Roger Maris would still hold the single-season homer record and Bonds and the others would be remembered for things other than bringing a fine sport into total disrepute.

What happens now? Firstly, the Giants need to sever ties with this fraudster. But Bonds sells tickets and without him, the Giants have little else to offer. Would you pay $40 to watch Ray Durham go 0-for-4? For the sake of franchise integrity, they need to get him off the roster or make him ride the pine.

Secondly, Giants fans need to take their heads out of their asses. They have routinely worshipped this cheat while every other sane person has winced at his every plate appearance. If the Giants wheel his dodgy knees out for a run at Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron, the fans need to show their disapproval.

Thirdly, the apologists on TV need to revise their act. Let's hear about BALCO Barry's use of the cream, the needle, and the pill every time he appears on screen instead of eulogizing about his plate discipline, strength, and pitch selection. I look forward, in particular, to the first time Joe Morgan has to deal with this. Morgan has consistently lauded Bonds over the years and, much as I admire Morgan and his opinions, it doesn't sit well with his image as an old-school traditionalist.

Finally, and most importantly, Bud Selig needs to take charge of the whole issue. The "steroid era" and its dubious records needs to be addressed. McGwire, Sosa, and Bonds need to be stripped of their drug-fuelled "achievements" with immediate effect. Roger Maris' 61 homers in a season should be reinstated as the benchmark. If not, the sport is leaving itself open to ridicule, pretty much as athletics has been since the 1980s.