Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Last night I went to the Giants game. The hot dogs were good, the beer was good, and the Giants won. The only thing missing was Barry "Juicy" Bonds, who was out with a sore heel. I realized on the BART ride home, though, that I will never see another Giants game with Barry because starting next season, the House That Bonds Built will be sans Bonds.

I'm not really disappointed since I was never a Bonds apologist. I don't actually think it's enough that he's the greatest hitter baseball has ever known. He's a rotten teammate, he's ungracious to the media, and he's condescending to the public (did he seriously think we were going to buy that whole flax seed oil business?).

But I can't figure out why I even care about any of that. Certainly he violates what I consider to be the most basic of all principles--be a nice person--but I've certainly come across bigger jerks than Bonds. Besides, I don't even know him. Nevertheless, there's something about the whole mess that really irritates the bejeezus out of me and I'm going to be really happy when he's somebody else's problem and, ultimately, out of the discussion entirely.