Requiem for the Blaster

I threw on ESPN at the exact right moment last night. It was kismet. As if God himself wanted me to witness the moment when Barry Bonds broke the Home Run Record. You see, Barry Bonds was my favorite baseball player ever. In fact, my AOL screenname has the number "25" in it specifically in reference to Barry. He was my type of baseball player when I was growing up: a complete package of speed, power and total douchebaggery that was unmatched by any of his peers. I flat out loved the guy. And I was one of the idiots who defended him against the allegations of steroids when he hit a ridonkulous 73 home runs in 2001. "They don't inject steroids into your eyes" I'd say, with the naivete of a retarded person.

In the years since I have come to loathe Bonds. The lies were just too much for a hardcore supporter like me to take. It's not that I'm angry that Barry Bonds is such a cheater, it's that I'm angry he didn't own up to it. The Bonds that I knew and loved wouldn't give a shit about anything, and he certainly would never shy away from controversy. But by constantly lying, he ruined his reputation for me even moreso than taking performance enhancing drugs. He shrunk like Jason Giambi's physic in the face of the allegations and for that I will never forgive him.

It's with that baggage and history that I put on ESPN last night at just past midnight to see near perfection. Comedy on the level of 30 Rock. Tragedy that could be taken right out of the evening news. Villains and heroes straight out of 24. Surprise, suspense and Father/Son dynamics that could've been culled from LOST.

Sure, it lasted barely ten minutes but that ten minutes was better than anything I've seen in quite some time. Simply put, Barry Bonds' record breaking home run was the defining moment of summer television.

You could tell Bonds was going to do it. He was already 2-for-2 on the evening and former Met Mike Bacsik looked like he was ready to replace Al Downing in the hearts of baseball fans. He kept challenging Bonds, and finally, on a 3-2 pitch, the Blaster unloaded. The ball sailed high and far to right centerfield, easily the deepest part of the ballpark and while Nationals centerfielder Nook Logan made an attempt at jumping to catch the ball, he wasn't even close. Home Run #756 sailed many rows up into the seats. Ensue pandemonium.

And what was Bonds doing during this? Hilariously he stood at home plate with his hands up for the ENTIRE TRAJECTORY OF THE BASEBALL. I cannot express to you how funny this is without showing you the picture:

I mean seriously? Are you for real?? This is the reason I loved Barry Bonds. Only a gigantic fucking asshole would do this. Either that, or Rickey Henderson. But, there was The Blaster soaking in the moment by not moving--a perfect encapsulation of the differences between now (Bonds) and then (Aaron).

After the trip around the bases, which had to take 30 seconds, Bonds hit home plate where his son was waiting for him. Now on Saturday when he tied Hammerin' Hank, Bonds embraced his son warmly.

You would imagine that a moment like that would be repeated for the record breaker, but you would be wrong.

Bonds' son awkwardly went in for a hug as Barry hit home plate, but The Blaster was too busy pointing towards the sky as his son tried in vain to get that hug he seemed to so desperately want. Now that the chase for Aaron was complete, it looked like Barry didn't need his family anymore either. This was his time to shine. And he wasn't going to take a backseat to anyone, let alone his flesh and blood.

I feel bad for the kid, because I am sure he will replay this missed/botched hug in his mind until the day he dies. And knowing Bonds, I'm sure he'll scold his son for ruining what should've been his literally picture perfect moment. Instead we get this:

And after Barry crossed home plate, well that's when the real fun began. Bonds hugged his mother, a far cry from the emotional hug that Hank Aaron's mother gave him when he broke Babe Ruth's record, and then went and found Willie Mays wandering off the third base coaches box like he was some lost animal. Mays looked old, bitter and I guess, satisfied. Honestly, Barry's godfather just looked like Emperor Palpatine to me. Holding a mic, I figured we were going to be treated with a speech from Mays that would sure to make me have a seizure from laughing so hard. Sadly though, that didn't happen. Instead the nation witnessed a surprise that would make Damon Lindelof blush with envy. There, up on the Diamondvision was Hank Aaron with a special message for Barry Bonds.

I am not kidding you, this ranked as one of the most shocking television reveals I've ever seen. There sat Aaron going on and on about the tremendous accomplishment of the record but all I could think of is "How the fuck did they get Hank Aaron to do this?"

I can only assume that Bud Selig and Major League Baseball took Aaron's family hostage to get him to record that. And I imagine that if you pulled back on the tight close-up of Aaron's face you would have seen three masked men holding AK-47s and standing in front of an Arabic flag.

This was, at once, the most hilarious and most heartbreaking moment of the evening. To think that Hank Aaron had to record a message to Barry Bonds, after all the things that he went through to pass Babe Ruth is just tragic and I hope after recording this message, Bud let Hank's family go without harm.

Like any good television experience though, you can never end on a low note. So it was with great joy that I watched Barry Lamar Bonds take the mic from Emperor Palpatine Mays and make his speech.

There is enough comedy there to last a lifetime, starting with his voice. What is that voice exactly? How does that voice come out of that body? How does he have a wife? A straight man should not sound like this.

Anyway, you got to hear Barry thank his teammates, thank his family and his unfortunately named children. You got to hear Barry thank the Washington Nationals for putting up with a 10 MINUTE DELAY IN THE MIDDLE OF A BASEBALL GAME! And then you got to hear Barry thank his father. When a son thanks his dead father for "everything," you should be moved by this. But not with Barry Bonds. Like his home runs, even that felt fake and forced. The crocodile tears of a bad actor on a bad audition.

And like that, it was over. The Keyser Soze of Major League Baseball disappeared into the dugout only to reemerge for one last ovation as he walked off the field. Of course the Giants didn't win this game. They never win. And no one seems to care. As long as Barry Bonds hits home runs, everyone in San Francisco is happy.

After the game, Bonds was asked if the moment was tainted, an obvious reference to his massive use of steroids. He responded: "This record is not tainted. At all. Period."

Umm, excuse me? Of course the record is tainted! You took steroids Barry! You are a cheater. Christ, own fucking up to it.

What's not tainted, however, was the moment.

It was the ideal finish to a ridiculous story. A story so insane and with so many layers, that it could only take place in one arena: television.

So thank you Barry Lamar Bonds. You made August 7th 2007 the best night of television ever.*


*Asterisk indicates that this statement isn't entirely accurate or true.