Bonds goes deeper

By Jack Ferdon

As if you needed one, here's another reason to love Barry Bonds: He's not just the single-season home run king and five-time MVP - he also has all the makings of a truly great literary hero.

But before you Barry-bashers begin burning books, hear me out. I admit the Sultan of Surliness doesn't fit snugly alongside the great protagonists. He wouldn't be hitting cleanup in a literary lineup with Huck Finn, Atticus Finch or Ahab.

But he wouldn't be riding the pine, either. While you could perform a more extensive character study on Rose from "Golden Girls" than most athletes, Bonds is deeper than the Mariana Trench.

There's a mind inside that muscle-bound head. Sure, he doesn't say much, but his silence speaks volumes. And he treats teammates like Joe Pesci treats that waiter in "Goodfellas," but what great man wouldn't? Get beyond these trifles and you can see Bonds as a man whose character recalls two of American literature's finest fictional heroes.

First, Bonds was Jay Gatsby - arrogant, flamboyant and stupid. Before his first game as a Giant, he accepted his second MVP award with Michael Bolton at his side. The crowd was befuddled as Bolton just stood there like a hostage. But Barry proceeded to throw San Francisco fans a Gatsby-esque five-year party full of the best overall offensive performance of the '90s.

Then, in 2000, Barry changed. He cut out the showboat antics and hit the weights. The best player of the previous decade became possibly the best ever. Despite the increased media attention, Bonds now speaks sparingly. He doesn't care that most fans hate his guts. Barry has become Holden Caulfield.

So root for Bonds in the series. At least it's better than reading.