McGwire On Bonds: Time Will Tell
Big Mac Knows What Barry Has Ahead Of Him This Summer
People had always suspected it, but in the spring of 1993, Bonds ended any doubt.
It seems that Sports Illustrated sent a writer to San Francisco to do a story on the godson of the greatest ballplayer to ever play the game, the kid who grew up walking through the Candlestick Park clubhouse daily while his father patrolled right field for the hometown Giants.
It was a homecoming of sorts. The Giants had paid big money to lure the free agent home from Pittsburgh, and he had shown in the first month of the season, en route to his third National League Most Valuable Player trophy in four years, that he had been worth every penny.
Hence, the national attention.
However, Barry Bonds, known to be somewhat surly when it came to dealing with reporters, kept the reporter waiting. A day passed. Then two days. A week later, the reporter, living out of a suitcase in a hotel and under direct orders from his editors not to return home until he had the story, was still waiting for an interview. It became a standing joke in the Giants' clubhouse.
It's been said that choosing your battles comes with maturity. Had Bonds had a bit more perspective, he might have opted not to make his point with a man who buys his ink by the boatload.
Certainly, it didn't win him any awards for being gracious. Then again, it didn't much matter to Bonds. When was the last time Miss America was also voted Miss Congeniality? Having people like him has never been a driving force for Barry Bonds.
The headline to the Sports Illustrated cover story was straightforward and apt: "I'm Barry Bonds and You're Not."
The story that was ultimately published -- once Bonds took the time to meet with the reporter -- was accurate. Bonds was portrayed as the best player in baseball. He also came across as its most egotistical.
In the story, Bonds basically told the reporter that he could go back to school and learn how to become a sports writer, but there was no way that the reporter could ever learn to do Bonds' job. There is no course in college -- nothing like Hitting The Curveball 101 nor Fielding Your Position 210 -- that can prepare the average Joe to become the best left fielder since Ted Williams.
It's a statement that has always stuck with me about Barry Bonds. It's a statement that made people hate him. It's a statement that made me want to hate him if it weren't so true, so brutally honest.
It's sad that sometimes the message gets lost in the way it's communicated.
* * * * *
The truth is that Barry Bonds is one of the best ballplayers ever. Say what you will, he is a first-ballot Hall of Fame inductee five years from the day he hangs up his spikes for good.
His ticket to Cooperstown, N.Y., was punched earlier this year when he hit his 500th career home run. His goal is to become the first player ever to finish with 600 career homers and 600 stolen bases. Not even his godfather, Willie Mays, the best ever, accomplished that.
You don't have to like him, but on the field, the guy commands respect.
He is Barry Bonds, and we're not.
* * * * *
Fast-forward to the present, June 2001, and we see a ballplayer who, at 37, is supposed to be in the twilight of his career, a guy whose bat should be slowing down.
Instead, he has set a record for home runs before the All-Star Break. His 38th homer Wednesday night surpassed the standard set by Reggie Jackson in 1969 and matched by Mark McGwire in 1998. More scary is that he shows no signs of slowing down.
But Bonds is quick to point out that home run droughts are known to happen. Sure, he's on a nice roll right now, but slumps happen. Just because he is on pace to shatter McGwire's record, he realizes that assures him of nothing.
He says little about the home runs, preferring to talk more about wins and losses, the pennant race that the Giants, thanks in large part to his efforts, are a part of again. When pressed about the homers, Bonds, this man who once allowed his talking to do the talking, becomes a man of few words. Bravado goes out the window -- replaced by something that looks an awful lot like humility.
"Only time will tell," he says.
Time will tell, indeed. Time, the great equalizer, has a way of humbling even the hardest of heart -- a way of mellowing the most rambunctious. It's a known fact that bonds take plenty of time to mature to their full potential. Evidently, so does Bonds. Time has a way of sorting everything out -- a way of putting everything into perspective.
Before breaking the record in 1998, McGwire flirted with -- and failed to reach -- Roger Maris' mark of 61 homers a few times. Time sorted out everything.
Same with Manny Ramirez, who some thought might make a run at Hack Wilson's record of 191 RBIs two years ago. He didn't come close. And then there was Pedro Martinez, whose fast starts the last few years have led many to believe he could win 30 games in a season.
But alas, time does indeed tell the tale.
"A lot of guys have great first halves and they are never heard from again in the second half," said McGwire, who seemed to have rebounded from an injury-plagued start to find his home run swing last week in Kansas City.
* * * * *
Bonds has never hit more than 49 homers in a season, but playing in Pac Bell Park, which is a scant 305 feet down the line in right field, there are some who believe he can make a legitimate run at a new record. He's better than halfway to McGwire's record with more than 90 games to play.
Still, there are scads of doubts that make us question whether Bonds has what it takes to hit 70 homers in a season:
- Can he stay healthy?
- Will pitchers stop throwing him strikes, instead opting to pitch to the likes of Jeff Kent and J.T. Snow?
- Can he cope with an unbalanced schedule that will see him facing division foes like Randy Johnson, Curt Schilling, Kevin Brown, Chan Ho Park, Mike Hampton, Denny Neagle and Pedro Astacio more often?
- Does he have the mentality to handle performing in the national spotlight? If his playoff performances of the past are any indication, is it a legitimate question?
Once again, time will tell.
Thus far, the media circus that comes with the march toward such achievements has remained a local affair. But rest assured that when his numbers begin to climb, more and more of the national media -- maybe even that same writer from Sports Illustrated -- will be called upon to scrutinize his every move.
"If he gets to 40 home runs, which will be soon, the next 31 homers he hits will be the hardest homers he's ever had to hit," McGwire said.
* * * * *
Watching "Sports Center" each night is good for a chuckle or two because we instantly learn, thanks to the ESPN mathematicians -- the summer interns -- that based on his most recent game, Bonds is on a pace to hit (insert number here) homers.
Simply amazing.
I birdied the first hole of my weekly round last week. After doing the math on my ride (yes, I rode in a cart) to the second hole, I quickly concurred that I was on a pace to finish my round with a score of 52.
Of course, I wound up shooting 91 because it all sorted itself out.
"The projections right now are so premature," McGwire said. "The time to talk about it is in August."
* * * * *
McGwire thwarted the press during his run toward 61 by telling reporters not to ask about it unless he had 50 home runs by Labor Day. Of course, that didn't stop reporters from asking, but McGwire set the standard by saying that the record couldn't seriously be considered until he got to 50 home runs -- and more than a handful of games still remained.
Once he got there, McGwire took the time to embrace the pursuit of the record. Realizing there was no way to escape it, McGwire, who to that point had always been considered guarded in his dealings with the media, did a 180-degree turn.
Presented with the choice of being miserable or enjoying what might be a once-in-a-lifetime pursuit of history, he chose the latter. As a result, America embraced him. A hero was born.
Some question whether Bonds will garner public sentiment if he continues his pace over the next three months. Thus far, he refuses to talk to the media about home runs. Someone asked him last week if he thought he could catch McGwire and his two-word response summed it up:
"Ask God."
In other words, he doesn't know. Actually, the answer is not much different than McGwire's 50-before-Labor-Day statement. However, Bonds' history with the press coupled with his brutally honest demeanor makes him come off sounding rude.
Roger Maris was portrayed in the same way by the New York media during his run at Babe Ruth's record.
* * * * *
Does Bonds have the demeanor to handle the media scrutiny? Of course, he does, McGwire said.
"Anyone can handle this if he chooses to," McGwire said. "I used to say 50 by Labor Day, but now you have to have 60 by Labor Day. That's not going to be easy."
In recent years, the old Barry Bonds -- the I'm-Barry-Bonds-and-you're-not version -- has seemed to mellow.
Each home run is followed by a kiss of his young son at home plate. He takes the time to sign autographs. Perhaps this man, who grew up in baseball's spotlight -- from Little League to high school ball at one of California's top prep programs to a trip to Arizona State University before being drafted in the first round by the Pirates -- is finally learning to bask in its warmth instead of fearing its brightness.
But the media spotlight will never shine brighter if he continues on his current pace, McGwire said.
"The second half is going to be hard for him because I know he doesn't like talking to the media," McGwire said. "I think we have to let this play out a little but longer. It's premature right now to talk about this."
In the end, Bonds will be right. Only time will tell.
Want more Sangimino? Check out his archive of recent columns.
Pat Sangimino is a veteran sports reporter and currently is a senior news editor at TheKansasCityChannel.com. Feel free to send him an e-mail with your thoughts on his weekly topics.
