Barry Bonds is the home run king – but Hank Aaron’s legacy runs deeper
In his first 4 minutes as baseball’s all-time home run king, Barry Bonds gallivanted by means of a throng of teammates and family members at San Francisco’s AT&T Park, a sequence of tributes and well-wishes that got here off like the stuff you’d apply in entrance of a mirror in anticipation of a giant second.
Some extent to the sky. A kiss for his relations. Hugs for his teammates. A tribute to his godfather, Willie Mays, full with a gesture that advised to followers worldwide, “No, no, this guy, he’s the man!”
Finally, one thing stopped Bonds in his tracks.
Hank Aaron.
For those that weren’t round or can’t bear in mind Aug. 7, 2007, it was a grim, but titillating time. Bonds was about to topple Aaron as the king of the longball, simply three months, because it seems, earlier than Bonds could be indicted on 4 counts of mendacity to a federal grand jury in his testimony concerning performance-enhancing drug use.
An American icon could be unseated in favor of a famously surly, often self-aggrandizing and now (very probably) identified drug cheat. The widespread perception: Bonds’ entry to designer PEDs considerably enhanced his capability to hit home runs. In explicit: The startling 258 home runs he hit between 2000 and 2004, regardless of a pitcher-friendly home park and the truth Bonds was between the ages of 35 and 39 when his peak energy years arrived.
And so by the time Major League Baseball added even a couple of enamel to its drug coverage in 2005, Bonds was already previous his godfather Mays (660 home runs), shifting in on the hallowed Babe Ruth (714) and the universally revered Aaron, whose 755 homers have been by no means threatened since his 1976 retirement.
The steroid period, although, was like nothing else.
Bonds was comparatively late to that recreation, partaking BALCO solely after one-dimensional gamers like Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa pushed a legit all-time nice to the recreation’s margins. The youthful set embraced the video-game numbers a bulked-up Bonds produced; to most anybody older than 30 residing exterior of San Francisco, it was an assault on the senses.
And in order Bonds handed Ruth and closed in on Aaron, the duality of a loss of life march and a really historic accomplishment was jarring.
Fans booed and waved indicators adorned with asterisks. Yet, as Bonds famously put it in 2005, they have been “still going to come see the show.”
Commissioner Bud Selig dutifully tagged along for the record, but through folded arms and clenched teeth; in case you somehow missed it, he and Aaron were tight.
The hypocrisy of all of it was laid naked when Bonds hit record-tying home run No. 755 off itinerant Padres right-hander Clay Hensley, who had truly tested positive for steroids, a stain that by no means appeared on Bonds’ document.
All those forces converged that August night when Bonds hit No. 756 into a delirious scrum of Giants fans, slapped hands and kissed his babies, was handed a mic and then asked to direct his attention to the video board.
And for just a few fleeting seconds, all that ugliness dissipated as Aaron appeared.
“I would like to offer my congratulations to Barry Bonds,” Aaron mentioned in a pre-recorded message, “on becoming baseball’s career home run leader. 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 that record for 33 of those years.
“I’ll 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.”
Aaron’s words were loudly saluted in San Francisco, and the expression on Bonds’ face, even if only for a moment, spoke volumes. The unqualified validation clearly meant the world to Bonds; perhaps someday we’ll get to hear a deeper explanation of what he meant when, later that night, Bonds vehemently insisted, “This record is not tainted at all. At all. Period.”
The ensuing 14 years have left us to grapple with the nebulous and impossible concept of wondering who, really, is the all-time home run leader. Old heads will passionately insist it is Aaron; a Braves podcast, in fact, dubbed itself “755 Is Real,” leaving unsaid that 762, Bonds’ final home run count, is somehow artificial.
Those sentiments will only reheat in the wake of Aaron’s death Friday at the age of 86. They resonate further when we examine the totality of Aaron’s life – playing through death threats as he approached Ruth’s record, what he meant to Black athletes and baseball at large – juxtaposed against the wounds to Bonds’ legacy that were largely self-inflicted.
In one 12 months, Bonds will make his final appearance on the Hall of Fame ballot, after which his candidacy will solely periodically be revisited by a panel even older than the writers who now decide him.
Bonds returned the love Friday after Aaron’s death, releasing a statement via social media that did not speak of home runs but rather thanked Aaron for “being a trailblazer through adversity and setting an example for all of us African American ball players who came after you.”
Perhaps that’s where we leave this so-called debate. Bonds is the all-time home run leader: He hit those 762 balls over the fence, a majority of them unenhanced by chemists, all of them a testament to his skill, strength and determination.
Hank Aaron? Well, he’s Hank Aaron – a distinction far higher than any notation in a document ebook.
