Bonds - Pro and Con

[NetShrine]

He Loves Himself Barry Much
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/ins...ife_of_reilly/

Posted: Tuesday August 21, 2001 5:55 PM

In the San Francisco Giants' clubhouse, everybody knows the score: 24-1.

There are 24 teammates, and there's Barry Bonds.

There are 24 teammates who show up to pose for the team picture, and there's Bonds, who has blown it off for the last two years.

There are 24 teammates who go out on the field before the game to stretch together, and there's Bonds, who usually stretches indoors with his own flex guy.

There are 24 teammates who get on the players' bus at the hotel to go to the park, and there's Bonds, who gets on the bus with the broadcasters, the trainers and the manager who coddles him.

There are 24 teammates who eat the clubhouse spread, and there's Bonds, whose nutritionist brings in special meals for him.

There are 24 teammates who deal with the Giants' publicity man, and there's Bonds, who has his own clubhouse-roving p.r. guy, a freelance artist named Steve Hoskins, who turned down George Will's request for an interview with Bonds because Hoskins had never heard of him.

There are 24 teammates who hang out with one another, play cards and bond, and there's Bonds, sequestered in the far corner of the clubhouse with his p.r. man, masseur, flex guy, weight trainer, three lockers, a reclining massage chair and a big-screen television that only he can see.

Last week, after Bonds hit his 51st home run in a 13-7 win over the Florida Marlins, most of the players stayed to celebrate the victory, and at least one was gone before the press arrived in the clubhouse: Bonds.

"That's Barry," says San Francisco second baseman Jeff Kent. "He doesn't answer questions. He palms everybody off on us, so we have to do his talking for him. But you get used to it. Barry does a lot of questionable things. But you get used to it. Sometimes it rubs the younger guys the wrong way, and sometimes it rubs the veterans the wrong way. You just hope he shows up for the game and performs. I've learned not to worry about it or think about it or analyze it. I was raised to be a team guy, and I am, but Barry's Barry. It took me two years to learn to live with it, but I learned."

If you get the feeling that Kent, who's in his fifth season with San Francisco, wouldn't spit on Bonds if Bonds were on fire, you might be right. Maybe it has something to do with last year, when Kent and Bonds were running neck and neck for the National League MVP award. The week before the award was to be announced, Bonds had a member of his entourage call the commissioner's office to try to find out who had won. We've got to know, said the stooge, because if he's not going to win, he can get out of town.

Perfect! No staying around to congratulate Kent. Or going to the press conference to shake his hand. Just, "If it ain't me, I'm outta here." The commissioner's office didn't know the results of the voting. Kent won.

Someday they'll be able to hold Bonds's funeral in a fitting room. When Bonds hit his 500th home run, in April, only one person came out of the dugout to greet him at the plate: the Giants' batgirl. Sitting in the stands, you could've caught a cold from the freeze he got. Teammates 24, Bonds 1.

Bonds isn't beloved by his teammates. He's not even beliked. He often doesn't run out grounders, doesn't run out flies. If a Giants pitcher gives up a monster home run over Bonds in leftfield, Bonds keeps his hands on his knees and merely swivels his head to watch the ball sail over the fence. He's an MTV diva, only with bigger earrings.

"On the field, we're fine," says Kent, "but off the field, I don't care about Barry and Barry doesn't care about me. [Pause.] Or anybody else."

Bonds will be a free agent after this season, and if he decides to sign elsewhere, will the Giants be devastated? Kent grimaces. "See: Seattle Mariners," he says, walking away.

Bonds is brilliant. He was the best player of the 1990s, and at 37 he's having his most magnificent season, on pace at week's end to break the single-season home run record of 70 and nearly lapping the league in slugging percentage, on-base percentage and walks. He should be the MVP.

But that doesn't mean you have to root for him.

Issue date: August 27, 2001

[NetShrine]

FROM: Tim Keown with Barry Bonds
DATE: Thursday, August 23
http://espn.go.com/magazine/20010823_keown.html


What else is new?
Barry Bonds doesn't get along with all of his teammates. He is a man apart, an above-it-all superstar who operates on his own program. He doesn't stretch with his teammates, or party with them, or even eat food in the clubhouse with them.

Shocked yet?

He sometimes fails to run out fly balls or ground balls, and has been known to leave the clubhouse before all the post-victory revelry has run its course. He has his own nutritionist and his own publicist and his own strength coach.

Still with us?

The power of this information shouldn't be enough to light a 15-watt bulb, but the Giants were asked to address it all over again Wednesday night in Montreal. At issue was a Rick Reilly column in the current issue of Sports Illustrated, which noted each instance of Bonds' epic apartness. They were buttressed by some comments from Jeff Kent, who said Wednesday that he was unwittingly drawn into a personal battle between author and subject.

Bonds knows this is part of the deal, and he has been notoriously stubborn in his refusal to comply with the rules as they pertain to .230-hitting backup infielders. He goes his own way, and his production has always been worth the trouble. If Kent says he doesn't care about Barry off the field, and likewise he's sure, that's fine.

"How many friends do you need?" Bonds asked. It's the same drill the Giants underwent when Kevin Mitchell was on the roster; Mitch, the '89 MVP, rarely stretched with his teammates and often failed to enter into any of their reindeer games. When the problem exceeded the production, he was sent away. That, too, is part of the deal.

So, on another desultory night of baseball in Montreal, where nothing quite compares to the sound of several people banging the backs of empty seats in unison, Bonds' relationship to his teammates masqueraded as news.

In cases such as this, it's always good to consult Dusty Baker. Team chemistry is his job, after all, and his response to the latest resurrection of the "Bad Boy Barry" angle was perfect: He shrugged.

"Not everybody gets along," Baker said. "Not everybody gets along in any job. The teams I played on in Los Angeles didn't get along. The A's of the early '70s didn't get along. You play, though. As long as you play, dude, as long as you play."

[Duque]

Kent's comments post-Reilly article are interesting. He basically said his words were taken out of context, and that Reilly came in wanting to do a hatchet job on Bonds, and manipulated Kent's comments towards that end.

It could just be Kent practicing some CYA, but I'm inclined to believe him. I've read a lot of sportswriters come into an article with a predetermined opinion (instead of actually trying to find out the correct information), and then getting stats and figures to back up that opinion, excluding ones that don't.

[NetShrine]

Heard the same about Kent. But, I also remember something from him last year in which he ripped Bonds. Maybe I can find it............

[NetShrine]

Wins speak louder than words
Baseball Weekly
Sept. 20-26, 2000
By Bob Nightengale

HOUSTON — THEY DON'T SPEAK to one another, unless absolutely necessary.

They don't talk about one another, unless it's out of exasperation.

They simply don't care for one another, unless it's on the field.

Barry Bonds and Jeff Kent, the greatest 1-2 hitting tandem in all of baseball, will tell you they have nothing in common except they happen to be teammates for the impending NL West division champion San Francisco Giants.

Bonds loves computers and electronic gadgets, aggressive investment portfolios and the Internet. Kent loves livestock and secure retirement plans and owns a simple pager. Only his ranch manager knows the number.

Bonds loves cars and has two Mercedes and a Porsche to go along with his truck and his wife's sport-utility vehicle. The only car Kent drives is a 1986 Toyota pickup truck that his father gave him. He lets his wife drive the SUV.

Bonds loves sushi, seafood and an occasional glass of fine wine. Kent is a meat-and-potatoes man and can drink a gallon of milk a day.

Bonds loves Armani suits and has a wardrobe that could land him on the cover of GQ for the next 10 years. Kent will stick to blue jeans and a denim shirt and would consider it an honor to show up on the cover of Popular Mechanics.

Bonds has worn a diamond cross earring in his left ear almost since the day he started playing major league baseball. Kent wouldn't be caught dead wearing an earring -- "My dad would have ripped it out of my ear" -- and is embarrassed simply to wear a gold chain his mom once gave him.

Bonds' dream home in Los Altos Hills, Calif., which he sold after six months for about a $20 million profit, had 19 TV sets that doubled as computers, eight computers that doubled as TVs, and every amenity known to man. Kent's dream house is a 4,000-acre ranch in Tilden, Texas, where he has 200 head of cattle.

Bonds will spend 30 minutes before games kibitzing with the opposing players at the batting cage. Kent refuses to even make eye contact with the opposition before games.

Bonds is the son of a famous major league baseball player, destined for greatness the moment he put on a uniform. Kent is the son of a motorcycle cop, always envious of those with sheer talent, who always worked harder than anyone else to compensate.

Bonds rarely will talk to Kent and is unable even to remember their last conversation.

"I don't like talking about Jeff Kent," Bonds says. "There's nothing to say about him. Next subject."

Kent can't remember the last time he talked to Bonds, either, knowing there really is no point. He recently was a no-show at a team party hosted by Bonds.

"I saw you talking to Barry. You know what he's about," Kent says. "There's no one like Barry. He's one of a kind."

Yet, as much as they detest the mere thought that they possibly could have anything in common, they are much more alike than they possibly could imagine.

At least when it comes to the game of baseball.

"They're both highly competitive," Giants manager Dusty Baker says. "They're both very confident. They both are perfectionists. And they both have a similar demeanor.

"They both have very cool personalities and are well-spoken, but it's hard to pull two words out of them. But when they do talk, you can't shut them up.

"You know something, when you stop and think about it, they're much more alike than they'd ever admit."

As painful as it is for them to acknowledge, the crazy thing is that they desperately need one another.

They have no choice but to depend on each other if they are to achieve that ultimate goal they share, winning that coveted World Series championship.

"You can see every game how badly they want this -- not only making it to the playoffs, but to the big dance," Giants outfielder Ellis Burks says. "They're both gamers. And they both want to win so bad.

"I think in Jeff's eyes, he knows it won't be a successful season unless we go to the World Series.

"And Barry is such a great player, but he keeps hearing that great players lead their teams to the big dance. And he's never been to one. Barry wants to change that."

Bonds already has proven that he can win all of the individual honors without Kent, capturing three Most Valuable Player awards. Yet, even though he has been to the playoffs four times, he never has been to the World Series.

Kent never achieved greatness until he was united with Bonds in 1997, becoming the greatest run-producing second baseman during a four-year stretch in history. He badly craves a World Series championship ring to call his own, embarrassed to even wear his 1992 ring (a Blue Jays' Series ring earned as a rookie, though he was traded in August to the Mets).

"They don't want to admit it, but each of them knows how important the other one is to them," Giants veteran reliever Doug Henry says. "They feed off each other. You can see that one-upmanship night after night.

"It's a beautiful thing to watch."

Bonds and Kent have become one of the greatest run-producing tandems in San Francisco history. They are the first Giants teammates to produce at least 100 RBI in three of four seasons since Hall of Famers Willie Mays and Orlando Cepeda in 1959-62.

Mays and Cepeda combined to produce 284 homers, 928 RBI and 874 runs during that magnificent four-year stretch. Bonds and Kent, entering the week, have nearly matched it, with 273 homers, 879 RBI and 832 runs.

continued...............

[NetShrine]

"Those guys are like a two-headed monster," says Arizona Diamondbacks starter Brian Anderson, a former teammate of Kent's in Cleveland. "You've got one from the left and one from the right. When you're pitching to them, it's like, pick your poison.

"You know that one is going to make you pay.

"Maybe both."

Says Diamondbacks second baseman Jay Bell, a former teammate of Bonds in Pittsburgh: "Maybe this is the year they should have co-MVP awards. I mean, how do you separate the two?"

KENT, WHO LOOKS LIKE he never left the '80s, with his neatly trimmed mustache that stops before the corner of his mouth and his hair parted to the side, motions over Blake Rhodes, the Giants' manager of baseball information.

"Hey, Blake, will you tell the guys (sportswriters) to knock off the MVP talk?" Kent says. "I don't care about it. I don't want it to tear apart the team."

Can you imagine?

Here is a player who never has won the MVP award and never even finished in the top 10 in the voting. In fact, he has been to only two All-Star Games. For the first time in his career, he truly is being recognized for his fabulous feats, driving in more runs over the last four years (472) than any second baseman in baseball history.

Yet he insists that the MVP award, which has not been awarded to a Giants infielder since first baseman Willie McCovey in 1969, means nothing to him.

"I've gotten awards in the past," says Kent, 32. "I don't need something like an MVP award to remember the season.

"I don't think people even remember who won the MVP the next year.

"But I guarantee you that people will remember who won the World Series championship in 2000."

Bonds, who won three MVP awards (1990, '92, '93) and easily could have won another, also shrugs his shoulders at the talk of winning the MVP award once again.

Sure, he'd love to win it. It would validate his claim as the greatest player in the league, remaining on top of his game even at the age of 36. Yet, if the voters look elsewhere, there will be no complaints.

"I've won enough of them," Bonds says, smiling. "Jim Edmonds is having a great year in St. Louis, a career year. Give it to him. He's played a big role on that team after they lost Mark McGwire. Really, there's a lot of guys you could give it to. I think if the Dodgers had stayed in the race, Gary (Sheffield) should have definitely been the MVP. He carried that team."

Bonds lists nearly a half-dozen players that he wouldn't fault anyone for supporting. The only viable MVP candidate he never mentioned was his own teammate, Kent.

Funny, but without each other, neither likely would be a legitimate candidate.

Bonds, who is hitting .316 with a career-high 47 homers and 101 RBI batting in the third spot, has carried the Giants in the month of September. He is hitting .408 -- 20-for-49 -- this month, with eight home runs and 21 RBI. Remarkably, 25 of his homers this year have either tied the game or given the Giants the lead.

Kent, who is hitting .335 with 33 homers and 123 RBI, provides the necessary protection for Bonds. Oh sure, Bonds still is pitched around, drawing 110 walks -- including 20 intentionally -- but Kent makes pitchers stop to think if it's wise to put Bonds on base. When Bonds is on base, Kent drives him in. He has been uncanny in the clutch this season, hitting .357 with two outs and runners in scoring position.

"He's like an RBI machine," Braves hitting coach Merv Rettenmund says. "He was always a dangerous hitter. But now he's a smart hitter."

So whom do you turn to as the MVP, particularly considering New York Mets catcher Mike Piazza is struggling?

Do you go with Bonds, a first-ballot Hall of Famer who is just three homers shy of becoming the first Giants player since 1965 to hit 50 homers in a year, last accomplished by his godfather, Willie Mays?

Or do you go with Kent, who'll become the first Giants player to lead his team in RBI four consecutive seasons since Mays did it five years in a row (1962-66) and has been a steadying influence all season?

"I'd give it to Kent," Baker says. "He's our clutch man. He's been our constant run producer."

First baseman J.T. Snow says: "I think Jeff is our MVP. I'm not taking anything away from Barry, because I think he deflects so much pressure, but Jeff has been there every day. I mean, with those two driving in everybody, Ellis (Burks) and I were kidding each other that we're the junkyard dogs. We just pick up the scraps."

Outfielder Burks says: "You can count me in, too. I go with Jeff as the MVP. Jeff has been there all year for us. Barry started off extremely hot, cooled off and is hot as hell right now.

"But you're talking about two different guys."

Burks laughs, looks at Bonds standing to his left and Kent off to his right.

"Two very different guys," he says.

GIANTS VETERAN catcher Scott Servais sees Bonds walk through the clubhouse and calls his name. Bonds looks over and has no plans to stop until Servais blurts out, "Hey, I talked to Doug Drabek today."

Bonds appears at least a little curious. He asks how his former teammate from the Pirates is doing. Servais then tells him that Drabek wants to know if he could get an autographed bat from Bonds for a charity event.

Bonds keeps walking.

"I told him I wasn't going to ask you because I knew you'd say no," Servais says. "He said to ask anyway, just so he could get your reaction."

Bonds says: "Dude, I don't have any more bats. I only brought along eight this trip. The rest are locked away in my house. I had so many stolen this year, I just started taking them home.

"Why don't you give him one of your bats?"

Servais, grinning: "Uh, I don't think it'd be quite the same."

Bonds: "Well, get one of your bats and sign my name to it. Come on, it's just a name, man."

Bonds walks away. Servais rolls his eyes. Some things just never change.

Bonds, who switched agents this year and signed with Scott Boras, vowed to be a different person this year. He would be accommodating to the media, act civilly to his teammates and try to treat everyone with the same respect.

"I will say he's tried to do that, he's actually made an effort," says one Giant who asked not be identified. "But it's still the same Barry. You talk to him and you think, 'You know, he's not such a bad guy.' Two minutes later, you're ready to kill him. He just seems to say the wrong thing at the wrong time."

Still, say what you want about the man, no one can deny that Bonds is genuine. Love him or hate him, there is no phoniness about him. He tells you what he thinks. If you don't want to know, don't ask.

"Look, I'm not going to be somebody I'm not," he says. "I just won't do it. I don't care what people say, I'm going to tell the truth.

"I'm proud to be myself."

Bonds doesn't have a close friend on the team, and he really doesn't care. He's a homebody. You'll never find him out on the road. Bonds, a devoted family man, simply goes back to his hotel, calls his wife, Liz, checks on the kids and plays Nintendo or watches SportsCenter before falling asleep.

"I used to stay up until 6 in the morning, go out and play, and be just fine," Bonds says. "But hey, those days are over. Besides, I need my 10 hours of sleep. I've got to take care of this body. I ain't getting any younger."

Bonds, who's earning $10.7 million this year and has one year left at $10.3 million before he'll be eligible for free agency again, never will be mistaken for a team leader. He'll lead by example once the game starts. It's up to his teammates if they want to follow.

The Giants have learned to live with him, adhering to his demands as a star player. He has a $3,000 leather lounge chair in front of his corner locker at Pacific Bell Park, the only player afforded such a luxury. He was late for stretching with his teammates all three days last week in Houston. Once he did show up, he quit early, walking over to the batting cage and chatting with Jeff Bagwell and Moises Alou of the Astros.

The preferential treatment he receives from the Giants used to leave Bonds' teammates seething. They're now numb to it.

"That's not me," Kent says. "I can't stand it when guys talk to the opposition, and guys are getting autographs before the game. You just don't do that. You're trying to beat these guys, and guys are talking about where they want to go out to dinner after the game.

"That's where I think Barry and I are so much different on the field.

"I think I'm much more intense.

"Maybe Barry used to be that way. I don't know if I should say this, but he's not that way now."

contnued......................

[NetShrine]

Bonds' teammates will concede that he carries the burden of being the team's true superstar. This still is his team, and whatever goes right and whatever goes wrong, he is the player most accountable.

"I'm like the Secret Service guy for the President," Bonds says. "Whenever there's a bullet, I'm the one to deflect it. I'm the shield."

Bonds now is bracing himself for the onslaught of questions he soon expects to hear about his past playoff performance.

Sure, the numbers don't lie. He has a .200 career batting average in the playoffs, with just one homer and five RBI in 80 at-bats.

Yet, any scout will tell just how rare it is for a star player to excel in the postseason. Teams spend so much effort shutting down the star players in the playoffs, it leaves the door open for the .210-hitting shortstops to become the heroes.

"The playoffs are completely different -- one guy can't carry a playoff team," Bonds says. "They won't let the best guy beat you. The whole thing is different. You're always facing a top pitcher, and it seems like those guys throw a lot harder in the playoffs, too.

"That's why I really hope we don't play the Mets in the first round. I don't want to see all of their lefties. Then all I'll hear all winter is how I sucked in the playoffs."

THE ROLL-BLOCK caught Kent's feet, and he went down at second base, hitting the dirt. It was a potential double-play ball, but once Astros rookie catcher Mitch Meluskey slid nearly 5 feet wide of the second-base bag, Kent had no chance to complete the twin killing.

Kent, who two years ago suffered a sprained right knee on a similar play when Mariners shortstop Alex Rodriguez took him out, was seething. He argued for interference with second-base umpire Brian Gorman. Kent surely would light into Meluskey after this ballgame.

Yet, with the pens poised and tape recorders rolling, Kent has no problem at all with Meluskey. In fact, he appreciates the hard-nosed play, particularly by a rookie.

"That's what he's supposed to do," Kent says. " I may like him less because of what he did, but I have more respect for him. Next time Meluskey runs to second base, I'll be prepared."

Kent, like Bonds, never really has worried about what people thought of him, either. He was disliked by many of his Mets teammates. He was simply quiet and didn't want to party with the guys. They misinterpreted it as being aloof.

They understood him better in Cleveland, but his quiet demeanor hardly won him any popularity contests.

"It wasn't like he was a divisive force or anything in our clubhouse, he just kept to himself," Anderson says.

Kent realizes he has few friends in the game. He wants it that way. Everyone who is not his teammate is the enemy.

"You've got to have that attitude -- it's him against you," Kent says. "I don't want to be your friend. I want to be a champion. I remember at the All-Star Game this year, somebody was talking to Randy Johnson. They asked Randy something, and he said, 'What am I talking to you for? You're a hitter.'

"I understand that. Why should I let somebody know who I am? So that's why as long as you respect me, I don't care if you love me or hate me. I'd rather have my family love me more than respect me, and I'd rather have my teammates respect me more than love me."

Kent smiles, but doesn't laugh. In fact, you rarely see him laugh once he's in the clubhouse and never on the field. When he watches his teammates on Sunday all yell and scream, talking about their fantasy football league, he doesn't even look up at the TV screen.

"I couldn't tell you a thing about the NFL," Kent says. "Really, I'm not into sports. I can tell you everything about hunting and motocross, but not any of that (other) stuff. I can't just sit still and watch that stuff.

"It's just like baseball. It can be so boring. I'll look at my watch sometimes, see we've played 3 1/2 hours, and say, 'You kidding me?'

"I rarely even watch the baseball highlights on ESPN. I can't watch those guys make all of those sarcastic comments and make fun of the game. I respect the game of baseball too much for that."

This respect by Kent and Bonds for the game is why their dislike for one another never will be an issue. It is all about respect.

"I remember the '92 Blue Jays team," Kent says. "It was a great clubhouse, a great team, just like this one. There were a lot of guys who didn't like each other, but it was never a problem because they all had the same goal. Before you knew it, there they were winning a championship, pouring champagne on each other and saying, 'I love you, man.'

"There's no reason why it can't be the same thing here.

"None at all."

http://www.usatoday.com/sports/baseb...38/bbw3803.htm

[mainsr]

In a previous post, Net, you asked me whether I skip newspapers as well as TV. The answer is that I get almost all my sports news online. Crap like this is one of the main reasons why.

OF COURSE Kent resents the hell out of Bonds. He has for years. And so, just as obviously, do guys like Bob Nightengale. I mean, Bonds is a bad guy because he likes sushi, seafood, and a glass of good wine? Where was Bob when it was time to write a hatchet piece on Rusty Staub, whose tastes also extended beyond the food court at the mall? His article hits on exactly the type of code words I've ranted about previously in other threads:
KENT: Hard-working. Humble. Blue-collar. Simple tastes. Yours and my kind of guy. White.
BONDS: Aloof. Immodest. Cocky. Surrounded by the trappings of wealth. Uppity. Black.

Honestly, when was the last time Bob Nightengale wrote that sort of article in which he contrasted a self-assured well-dressed white player to a black teammate who keeps to himself and has simpler tastes? Answer: Never, because these are qualities these guys are incapable of picking up.

Mind you, I am not accusing anyone of racism, which is a nasty charge that gets thrown around way too casually. It's just another example of code words at work, like "athletic" (i.e., naturally gifted, so we don't need to give him credit for being an outstanding player, a term used pretty much exclusively for blacks) vs. "gritty" (i.e., not naturally gifted, so worthy of our adulation even if he's only mediocre, a term used pretty much exclusively for whites).

Reilly's column is a little harder for me to savage because I think he's a pretty good writer. He has taken a stand in support of controversial athletes (Alan Iverson, e.g.) but he does have a soft spot in his heart for guys with a great concept of "team." Bonds pretty clearly doesn't.

But here's a question for you: Suppose a player insists on traveling on his own, not with the team; on staying at his own hotel, away from his teammates; and has such sway over management that he can pretty much dictate not only when he plays but at which position, too.

If he's Barry Bonds, everybody from Sports Illustrated to the morons on the call-in shows complain that he's what's wrong with sports today, that he doesn't deserve his accolades, blah, blah, blah.

If he's Cal Ripken, they retire his locker in opposing team's ballparks, fer crissakes, and hold "we love you Cal" rallies in every city.

Sure, Ripken has a much better personality than Bonds. But don't try to tell me that pigment doesn't have something to do with the press coverage they get.

[NetShrine]

Originally posted by mainsr
But here's a question for you: Suppose a player insists on traveling on his own, not with the team; on staying at his own hotel, away from his teammates; and has such sway over management that he can pretty much dictate not only when he plays but at which position, too.

If he's Barry Bonds, everybody from Sports Illustrated to the morons on the call-in shows complain that he's what's wrong with sports today, that he doesn't deserve his accolades, blah, blah, blah.

If he's Cal Ripken, they retire his locker in opposing team's ballparks, fer crissakes, and hold "we love you Cal" rallies in every city.

Sure, Ripken has a much better personality than Bonds. But don't try to tell me that pigment doesn't have something to do with the press coverage they get.

I'm pretty sure that Ripken travels with the team - as does Bonds. So, that's moot. The hotel thing, as Cal describes it, was on behalf of his teammates. During the height of THE STREAK, Cal (reportedly) didn't want his teammates to have to deal with the media/fan madness at the hotel - so, he went on record as saying that he wasn't even at the hotel - that he was somewhere else.

There is a difference between Ripken and Bonds - a HUGE one in terms of how they react with teammates, media and fans.

Ripken is close with several teammates. Has them to his house all winter to play basketball. Hangs with them in the clubhouse after games. Bonds does none of this.

Ripken will sign autographs at the ballpark - FOR HOURS after a game - for FREE - and will ensure that every signature is perfect and will make a point to look every person in the eye after signing. Bonds does none of this.

Ripken will talk with the media. We all know about Bonds. This is the difference in the press coverage they get. Nothing to do with skin. Tony Gwynn gets better press than Dave Kingman got.

Bonds and Ripken are, no pun intended, as different as night and day.

[NetShrine]

I heard a report yesterday that said the Giants are not a 24 + 1 team, due to Bonds; but, more so, they are a 23 + 1 + 1 team - as Kent does not fit in with his teammates as well. Further the report said that Kent is very media friendly (always willing to interview) and that is why the press gives him a bye on this.

Remotely related, anyone else notice the extreme difference in Barry Bonds' face this year? I saw one write-up on it yesterday by accident on the internet - with photos from this year and last. Other than that, you don't hear much about it. But without doubt, he has really bulked up (gained weight) this year. Anyone else see this?

[BuzzBuzzard]

As I heard it, Kent's teammates do not dislike him. Kent is a loner, does his own thing, does not interact to much with the guys, etc. It probably is 23-1-1, but there is a big distinction between Kent and Bonds.

[NetShrine]

Originally posted by NetShrine
Remotely related, anyone else notice the extreme difference in Barry Bonds' face this year? I saw one write-up on it yesterday by accident on the internet - with photos from this year and last. Other than that, you don't hear much about it. But without doubt, he has really bulked up (gained weight) this year. Anyone else see this?

I refound the article and clipped the pix. You tell me - look different?

[mainsr]

Originally posted by NetShrine


Ripken will talk with the media. We all know about Bonds. This is the difference in the press coverage they get. Nothing to do with skin. Tony Gwynn gets better press than Dave Kingman got.

Bonds and Ripken are, no pun intended, as different as night and day.

HAH!! I knew I could get you going with my Bonds/Ripkin comparison! But I truly do believe that if Ripken were black, we'd have heard a lot more grumbling about "selfishness" during The Streak.

And sure, Gwynn is better regarded than Kong. But that's the exception. In the 70's, Joe Morgan, who was both bright and accomodating with the press, got worse coverage than Rose, who was only accomodating, and no better (as I recall) than Carlton, who didn't even talk to them.

Unrelated to that, but related to Bonds, while on vacation, I saw a sports column in the St. Paul paper (that I didn't disagree with) saying that Bonds may be the best player of the generation, but he's such a jerk that it's hard to get worked up about his chase of the record as with good guys McGwire and Sosa. But the guy had two accusations about Bonds: He doesn't run out grounders (same as Reilly) and he has a big-screen TV by his locker that only he can see. Anybody know if there's any truth to these?

[NetShrine]

Originally posted by mainsr
HAH!! I knew I could get you going with my Bonds/Ripkin comparison!

Unrelated to that, but related to Bonds, while on vacation, I saw a sports column in the St. Paul paper (that I didn't disagree with) saying that Bonds may be the best player of the generation, but he's such a jerk that it's hard to get worked up about his chase of the record as with good guys McGwire and Sosa. But the guy had two accusations about Bonds: He doesn't run out grounders (same as Reilly) and he has a big-screen TV by his locker that only he can see. Anybody know if there's any truth to these?

It's RIPKEN - I swear, the guy gets his name mispelled more than anyone in baseball history. See it all the time.

It was the Reilly piece that made mention of the TV:

"There are 24 teammates who hang out with one another, play cards and bond, and there's Bonds, sequestered in the far corner of the clubhouse with his p.r. man, masseur, flex guy, weight trainer, three lockers, a reclining massage chair and a big-screen television that only he can see."

[nyy26wc]

As often as Ripken is misspelled, I think McGwire's the leader.