I am one of those rare individuals that live in Oakland, but a lifelong San Francisco Giants fan. The primary reason for my cross bay baseball allegiance is simple: I am old enough to remember a time when the Giants were the only Major League team in the area.
I grew up watching the greatness of Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, and Juan Marichal. I am still unable to talk about Game 6 of the 2002 World Series, where the Giants were a mere six outs away from its first championship since the franchise moved to San Francisco in 1958. And yes, I am a Barry Bonds fan.
I bring mixed emotions to the Barry Bonds steroids issue: A fan who wants to see my beloved Giants win a championship and a social critic who cares about the public morality.
The circumstantial evidence suggests to me that Bonds' steroid allegations are true. The transformation of his body is undeniable, but it is his unprecedented home run production so late in his career that simply cannot be ignored.
Assuming these allegations are true, Barry Bonds broke the law. I don't care that Major League Baseball did not have an anabolic steroids policy during the time of Bonds' alleged use; if he didn't have a prescription, it was illegal.
The $60,000 question: Now what?
There have been calls for Bonds to apologize, to retire, to be suspended, to have his records expunged; or to be banned from the Hall of Fame, for which he was a lock with or without steroids.
I don't see how Major League Baseball can do anything to Bonds without first indicting itself. It is too easy to make Bonds the scapegoat for which society places all of its steroid sins on his back, subsequently banishing him into baseball wilderness.
The current backlash against Bonds is warranted if he is the only culprit. Now is not the time for Major League Baseball come down with a severe case of self-righteous indignation.
How many players used steroids during Bonds' alleged use? Were any of the pitchers that he faced juiced? As long as the answers to these questions remain unknown there is little baseball can or should do to Bonds.
How quickly baseball has forgotten how much it needed the epic 1998 home run chase between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa to put fans back in the seats? McGwire and Sosa, whose names appear as frequently as Bonds on the most likely to have used steroids list, ended a magical season by hitting 70 and 66 home runs respectively.
If the steroids allegations about McGwire and Sosa are true, baseball in effect rode the back of steroids to once again endear itself to the fans. During Bonds' alleged steroid use, the Giants had the highest attendance for a road team in baseball except for the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox. The reason for that phenomenon is simple: Barry Bonds.
As a society, we seem to be very selective about our steroid outrage. Bonds' less than congenial reputation with the press and his teammates make him an easy target.
Why are the allegations against Bonds more severe than those of seven-time Tour de France champion Lance Armstrong? Hardly seems equitable that Armstrong has had as many, if not more, allegations of steroid use as Bonds, and he is flirting with running for political office, while Bonds is polling just slightly ahead of Satan.
The obsession with Bonds blinds us to deeper problems. Why is it important for Barry Bonds to "come clean" about his alleged steroid use but we don't demand the same of others? By "outing" Bonds do we also solve the steroid problems in college football or the National Football League, let alone Major League Baseball?
This amounts to much ado about nothing. Not that Bonds is innocent, I don't think that baseball has the courage to do what needs to be done. Because that would make public just how dependent Major League Baseball has been on steroids: physically and financially.