I happened to be penciling some strips late last night and caught the Bonds home run live. Obviously, I'm no fan of the guy but I was glad it happened at home so he could have a true moment of glory before the rest of us dampened the celebration. The muscles may be out of a bottle, but the eye-hand co-ordination is still remarkable.
Willie Mays was always my hero, and his presence gave Bonds some credibility in my book. But Willie looked not so much like the godfather as the Godfather in his role last night. I never caught a smile pass between them nor a look of pride. Mays looked like a security guard protecting his quarry.
And the moment at home plate struck me as symbolic. Bonds' son hugged his dad but dad pointed at the sky, to his dad presumably. Talk about a missed opportunity for the sake of a photo op. If your son hugs you at the climactic moment of your career, here's a hint: take a moment and hug him back.
Nobody else is saying it, but I found myself wondering if Bonds had stayed in the game might he have helped his team win, by the way? In Barry Bonds world, the outcome of the game was insignificant compared to his solo accomplishment. Get more symbolic than that.
