Meaningful At-Bats

We continue, in Toronto, to wait for meaningful baseball. Patiently, I might add. And as the Blue Jays were officially -- mathematically -- eliminated from post-season play Sunday afternoon in Boston, I reverted to the old adage, tried, tested, and true: maybe next year.

But 2010 has far from been a lost cause. (Unless you're Travis Snider, or J.P. Arencibia, but that's a whole other story.) Toronto hasn't lost 100 games. They won't end up anywhere near the dreaded century mark. And they certainly won't finish below the Baltimore Orioles in the standings. Shame on those of you who even thought of such a fortune. No, we weren't treated to meaningful baseball this season, even though it's clear the franchise is headed towards the light. But, thanks to Jose Bautista, we were treated to that which we haven't seen around these parts since Carlos Delgado's heyday: meaningful at-bats.

Forty-nine home runs. One every 10.65 at-bats. And counting. A violent assault not only on fastballs, but on Toronto's, and baseball's, record books. History. Bautista will become the first Blue Jay to hit 50 home runs in a season. It's going to happen, and, no, I don't believe in jinxes. And when it does, when number 50 does clear the left field wall (hopefully at the SkyDome), the feat will have been accomplished for only the 42nd time in baseball history.

The Toronto Blue Jays have been around since 1977. The Steroid Era has come and gone. Bautista will be the first to hit 50 for the good guys, and he could very well be the last. That's the beauty of baseball. You just never know. I'm convinced the franchise will one day return the post-season. Will add a pennant, or two, to their collection. But I'm not so sure I'll ever see another no-hitter. Perhaps Dave Stieb's effort was Toronto's pitching performance of my lifetime. And, in that same light, perhaps Bautista's exploits in the batter's box have been Toronto's home run hitting performance of my lifetime.

Post-All Star break, there's been a buzz everytime Bautista has stepped up to the plate. It's palpable. At home, on the road, and even on television. Bautista excites; Bautista has people talking baseball. (And beards.) There's an expectation that regardless of who's throwing the ball, and how fast it's traveling, and how much it's moving, Bautista can murder it. The situation hardly matters, either. Nobody could be on base. Actually, nobody usually is. The Blue Jays could be down by five. Yet each Bautista at-bat matters. Each Bautista at-bat means more than any other.

The only comparable seasons to Bautista's are John Olerud's 1993 campaign, and Carlos Delgado's 2000 and 2003 seasons. Olerud flirted with .400 that magical summer, and finished with a Weighted On-Base Average (wOBA) of .453, and a Weighted Runs Created Plus (wRC+) of 181. In 2000, Delgado hit 41 home runs, and put up an incredible wOBA of .471. King Carlos bested Olerud's wRC+ by one, finishing with a rating of 182. Delgado finished fourth in MVP voting that season, which still completely blows my mind. In 2003, Delgado hit 42 home runs, and tallied a wOBA of .423, and a wRC+ of 160.

Bautista, with 49 home runs to his name, and 12 games left on the schedule, today sports a wOBA of .423, and a wRC+ of 170. Like I said: historic. One of the finer offensive seasons Toronto has ever seen. Delgado-esque. And who could ever have imagined saying that about the journeyman outfielder-slash-third baseman?

I get it, now. I get why Damien Cox, and others in his wake, had to ask the question. We're talking history, and in Bautista, a player who has come out of nowhere. Literally. Pittsburgh: baseball's nowhere. What I wish I'd see less of, though, in the Toronto media landscape, is "But you've got to at least ask the question ..." masquerading as reporting. Because I'd put money on the fact that Bautista is indeed clean. He's been tested. And he does not physically look the part of a juicer. If the Steroid Era taught us anything, it's that the human eye does not deceive. There's more: Bautista hasn't hit a cheap home run to opposite field all season. He's pulled one through 49 to the left side. The proof in Bautista's changed mechanics alibi -- he's closer to the plate with his back foot, his hands are higher, and he starts his leg kick, and swing, earlier -- can be found in the fact he's hitting fastballs 32.8 runs above average this season, compared to only 4.2 runs above average in 2009. Bautista essentially owns the inner-half of the plate. He's made a conscious decision to pull the ball. If he doesn't get a pitch to pull, he'll gladly take a walk, his on-base percentage a career-high .382, far above his .342 career average. Instead of wondering whether Bautista is on steroids, where are the columns applauding Bautista's patience at the plate? Where are the columns asking an even more important question: why the hell is he still being pitched to inside?

It's pointless, defending Jose Bautista's honour. I know that. And, at the end of the day, he doesn't need my help. His urine has done, and will continue to do, the talking.

Instead, I'm going to enjoy Bautista's final meaningful, and hopefully violent, at-bats this season. I'm going to be at the SkyDome on Tuesday night, and Wednesday night, and maybe even Thursday afternoon. Perhaps I'll be there on the weekend, too. And maybe next week, when the Yankees are in town. Bautista's got nine games to hit number 50 at home, in Toronto. And I'm not going to miss it.

Beautiful image via daylife.

Respect

I've yet to come down from my Jose Bautista high. If you have, watch this.

Which do you prefer: a 16-2 thrashing of the Boston Red Sox by the Blue Jays at Fenway Park, or a dramatic 3-2 victory over the New York Yankees at the ole Dome? Both contests certainly had their charm, and I enjoyed Toronto's Boston Massacre probably more than anyone, but if I had to pick one, I'd have to choose the events of Monday night. What an evening of baseball!1 I needed a cigarette after it was all said and done.

What didn't happen in that game? Ejections, a home plate umpire who couldn't discern the strikezone even as he crouched behind it, a benches clearing -- what shall we call it? -- brouhaha, and, of course, long-ball theatrics, and some showmanship, from Jose Bautista.

What's left to be said about Bautista that hasn't already been written? Forty home runs. A feat Carlos Delgado, the greatest Blue Jays slugger I've ever known, managed but three times in Toronto. But it wasn't that Bautista hit the 40-mark Monday night; it was the way he got there.

What I've enjoyed most about watching Bautista as the season has progressed is the confidence he's brought to the batter's box. As home run after home run began to stockpile, Bautista began, more and more, to believe in himself; to believe in his abilities. Now he steps up to the plate knowing -- believing -- he can take any pitcher out of the ballpark. And it was that confidence, and that swagger, that was on display last night for the New York Yankees, and the baseball world, to see.

Bautista has become a leader on the Blue Jays. The leader, perhaps. And if Bautista doesn't yet have your respect, he will demand it. And he will go out and get it. What I loved most about Bautista's comments post-game was the candor with which he delivered them. Unhappy with being sent to the mat by a high-and-tight fastball from Yankees rookie Ivan Nova, Bautista said he slowly made his way out to the mound in order to gauge the youngster's reaction. He was testing Nova. And Nova failed.

Proof of Bautista's elevation to slugger, and leader, was found in the reaction to the melee, by both the Yankees and Blue Jays. As Bautista crept to the mound, it was New York manager Joe Girardi who stepped in front of him and asked that his young pitcher's bravado be forgiven. Girardi could have gone to his pitcher; he chose to restrain Bautista. And as Girardi put his hands on Bautista, it was Jose Molina first on the scene for Toronto, grabbing Bautista away from the Yankees skipper, and walking him away from the scene.

Then there was the business of Bautista's 40th home run. A no-doubter, if there ever was one. Look, I'm all for guys playing the game the right way; for a slugger to hit a home run and act like he's done it, oh, you know, 39 times before. But Bautista had every right to enjoy that long ball more than any of the his previous 39, and I'm glad he did. Bautista was locked-in; focused. It was, as Parkes over at Drunk Jays Fans put it, "perhaps the greatest display by a hitter in a single at bat that I've ever seen." David Robertson paid dearly for Ivan Nova's mistake.

In the aftermath of the home run, more proof of Bautista's exalted status. If you watch the replays closely, as Bautista steps out of the dugout for his curtain call (yes!!!1), DeWayne Wise and Freddy Lewis are standing on the top step of the dugout, nodding their heads, and looking, it seems, straight at the Yankees dugout. It was as intense a moment I've witnessed all season; a sure sign that this Blue Jays team is tight-knit, and will not back down from anybody, no matter how many games they're behind in the standings.

Jose Bautista has single-handedly brought people back to the ballpark this season. He has single-handedly given people a reason to talk about the Toronto Blue Jays. Bautista has made it easier to swallow the terrible seasons Adam Lind and Aaron Hill are having. He's made it easy to not lose sleep over the fact that save for April and May, Vernon Wells has been awful, and is an absolutely insane choice to be batting cleanup. Bautista is the biggest part of why this season has been one of the most memorable in recent years, and a big part of why Toronto is buzzing about baseball. If you were at the game Monday night, or watching on television like I was, you could sense that there was indeed something different about it. Yankees fans certainly noticed. Their players did, too. Bautista is now enemy number one in their books, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Bautista will break George Bell's single-season Toronto record of 47 home runs. Bautista will hit 50. It's his summer. And I will not, goddamnit, let Damien Cox ruin it.

The Undercard

If Jose Bautista vs. David Robertson was Monday night's main event, Brandon Morrow vs. the New York Yankees was the undercard. Morrow's masterful performance was lost in the lights of The Jose Bautista Show, but it certainly did not go unnoticed.

It's not everyday a pitcher mows through the New York lineup, striking out 12 batters in six innings while only scattering four hits. Morrow put to rest any doubts about his arm, striking out the New York side on three separate occasions: in the 1st, 3rd, and 6th innings. When's the last time you saw that happen?

"Gotta At Least Ask The Question"

Thanks to the aforementioned Cox, everyone's favourite scribe, the Bautista-steroid rumours and allegations aren't going to disappear. The fact Jose got to 40 in the manner that he did against New York won't help. Brady Anderson's name was flying about on Twitter last night, let me tell you.

If Cox is so eager to "at least ask the question," I wonder, where was Cox last summer, when Aaron Hill, who'd never hit more than 17 home runs, and was coming off a concussion-riddled campaign that saw him hit two home runs in 55 games, swatted 36 home runs? Where was Cox when Adam Lind, who hit 11 home runs in 2007, and 9 home runs in 2008, hit 35 last season?

Roger Maris hit 16 home runs in 1959, and 39 in 1960. In 1961 he set the standard: 61 home runs. He'd never hit more than 33 in a season again. I guess he might have been on steroids, too.

Here are my questions: Why Bautista? Why now?

The bottom line: if Bautista is indeed using a super-steroid which isn't turning up in the drug tests he's taking, he needs to start sharing. With Lind, and Hill, and Wells. Because sharing is caring. And because lord only knows those guys could use the help.

Some good has, and will continue to, come out of this situation. It's rather apparent that even those that work with Cox don't seem to like him very much. He's been called out, through sarcastic blog posts and tweets, by his colleagues in his own newsroom, and those in other newsrooms. And while I've promised myself on many occasions to never read Cox again, I'm sticking to it this time. His Bautista piece was the last straw.

#TeamGriffin.

Image courtesy of daylife.

Who gives a shit?

Anyone else sick to death of reading, hearing and talking about Alex Rodriguez's steroid revelation?

Fuck. Enough already. What exactly is so surprising? The guy has always been a $250 million dollar douchebag. Now he's a steroid-using $250 million dollar douchebag. It makes sense. Deal with it, and let's move on.

Honestly, I don't give a damn who it is; a baseball player testing positive for steroids is not news.

Did I mention that A-Rod's a douche?

Yes? Good.

*Update*

He admitted it. After lying about it for, what, more than a year? What an idiot. Ladies and gentlmen, give it up for Alex Rodriguez, douchebag extraordinaire. Now, get over it.

Steroids!?!? What Steroids!?!?

It's time to weigh in, my friends. Here's what's on the dish, and it's baseball heavy: the Mitchell Report, Greg Zaun, Alex Rios, Josh Towers, David Eckstein, T.J. Ford and our dinosaurs of the hard court the Toronto Raptors, and Bates Battaglia. And maybe some more. You'll have to read on to find out!

The Mitchell Report (cue dramatic music):

So, uh, baseball's got a steroids problem. Who's surprised? Who cares? This isn't news. Every one's known for quite some time that all baseball players are, or have been, on the juice. A most credible source - one Jose Canseco - told all of us years ago.

So why all this fuss over the Mitchell report? Leave it to baseball to let a director of the Boston Red Sox lead an investigation into drug use in the sport. In an absolutely shocking turn of events, no Red Sox were named on the list.

If you haven't seen it already, here's the report. It was actually a rather enjoyable experience to skim through it. If you're looking for a list of names, here you go.

Long story short - baseball players have been juicing for years and the Mitchell report named some names.

A few big names did come out of the report. Barry Bonds took steroids?!?! Like, no way! On a more serious note, the real big names were: Roger Clemens, Andy Pettitte, Eric Gagne and Miguel Tejada. And Toronto's own Greg Zaun! Give it up for Zauner!

Clemens, it was reported, took his first injections, in the buttocks no less, in our great city of Toronto, while he was dominating the American League for none other than the Toronto Blue Jays. I feel, kind of, honored. I always thought Clemens was some sort of freak of nature who could pitch, pitch and pitch some more. But now it's come to light that he's a steroid-using douche bag. Oh well, his couple of years in Toronto were still great, although he does deserve a swift kick to the nuts.

As for Gagne, Pettitte, and Tejada, I can't really say I'm surprised. If you were surprised by the Mitchell report, you've been living under a rock. Baseball's been juicing for a long, long time. Deal with it.

Greg Zaun:

Clemens as a Blue Jay wasn't the only connection from the Mitchell report to my, our should I say our, beloved Toronto Blue Jays. Like I said, it looks like good ol' Greg Zaun is a steroid user and abuser. I have, after a few hours reflection, already forgiven him. Like I said, everyone was juicing. Zaun's been a borderline major leaguer for, pretty much, ever. If I was Zaun and I saw the dude I was battling against for a job taking steroids, I probably would have done the same. Can't blame the guy.

I do, however, have some advice for Zaun, and a number of other idiots who were named in the Mitchell report thanks to evidence that they paid for their steroids by cheque. If you're going to buy the stuff, pay with cash, morons. That's all.

Zaun even had the nerve to trash the Mitchell report to the National Post before it got released yesterday. Not smart, Zauner, not smart. Especially when you're in it! Oh well, you live and you learn. Zaun, a recovering alcoholic, probably needed a drink last night. I wonder what he'll say today?

Troy Glaus:

Still on the Jays and steroids, super douche Troy Glaus was named in the report as well. Not a surprise, as he was linked to steroids at the end of last season. Major League Baseball has, however, cleared him of any wrong doing because there apparently isn't enough evidence that Glaus used steroids. He just bought them, that's all, and what? Did he sit on his couch and stare at them? Talk about getting off easy, eh? Give me a break. The Glaus story is exactly what is wrong with Major League Baseball. Now Glaus will never have to explain his steroid controversy, and that just pisses me right off. I'm still off Glaus, huge...

Alex Rios and Tim Lincecum:

Enough about steroids. The San Francisco Giants yesterday signed Aaron Rowand to a five-year deal. The free-agent signing took Tim Lincecum off the table, and that means Alex Rios is going to remain a Blue Jay, at least for the time being. At the end of the day, the Giants couldn't part with Lincecum's arm, and I can't really blame them. The kid's going to be special. At the same time, I can't be mad or disappointed, because Alex Rios is a rude boy and still a Blue Jay. I think the Jays should now make a whole-hearted effort to get Rios' name on a contract extension before they explore trading him again.

Here's hoping that Rios doesn't take the attempt to trade him personally. It was strictly a business decision, especially in light of the "cha-ching" Rios will soon be hearing. The smart money (that would be me) says that Rios does end up taking it personally. However, I'm not all that smart, nor do I have much money, so what the hell do I know...

Josh Towers:

Jeff Blair at The Globe, and millions of other Jays fans, were given an early Festivus present by JPeezy last night. Josh Towers was not tendered a contract. He is officially a free agent. His career with the Blue Jays is officially done. Finally. No more Josh Towers. Say it with me. It feels so good. Yes, that is dancing in the streets you're hearing.

Towers was god-awful the last two years. I know it, you know it, and even he knows it. I would quote Towers and his reaction to becoming a free agent but, really, who gives a shit what he has to say? He made more than $5 million the last two seasons. I feel like he stole the money, because god knows he didn't deserve it.

I will give some credit, though, to Josh Towers. He's a millionaire. And he stinks. Therefore he's the reason my unborn son will become a major league pitcher. So thanks, Josh, for something, at least.

David Eckstein:

Still on the Jays, they announced the free-agent signing of David Eckstein yesterday afternoon. Welcome to Toronto, Mr. X Factor. It's a one-year deal for $4.5 million and Eckstein will, at that price, surely be the starting shortstop come April.

I definitely didn't see this one coming, especially after JPeezy went out and acquired Marco Scutaro to backup John McDonald. I feel for Johnny Mac. It seemed like he finally had the starting job locked up, and now this. He's a backup once again. At the same time, I can't be mad at JPeezy for going out and signing Eckstein, who will be batting in the lead-off spot (making Reed Johnson expendable?). Worst comes to worst, the Jays have another decent guy on their bench, either Johnny Mac or Eckstein. If there was one glaring weakness for the Jays last year it was their abysmal bench. Now it's much better, and supreme jobbers like Howie Clarke, Hector Luna and Ray Olmedo can go back to the minors where they belong...

T.J. Ford:

My man T.J. Ford is doing alright after he was mugged by Al Horford in Atlanta on Tuesday night. The Raptors came up big a night later, with T.J. in attendance in street clothes on the bench, against the Dallas Mavericks.

I got a bunch of feedback about my comments about the Ford incident and how I thought one of Ford's teammates should have stepped up and had a word with Horford. Some people disagreed because Horford was quick to show remorse, while others said that someone should have at least had a word with the Atlanta rook.

Horford was definitely remorseful after his bonehead play on Ford. He went to the hospital after the game on Tuesday night to talk to Ford and to make sure he was alright. The Atlanta rookie spent more than two hours at the hospital. Good on him, because it was the right thing to do.

I, however, stand by my decision. I appreciate Horford going to the hospital, but I made it clear that I knew Horford didn't mean to hurt T.J. Ford. Of course he didn't. But that doesn't change the fact that someone has got to get in his face and at least ask him what the hell he was thinking. There's a way to foul a guy, and it certainly doesn't involve smacking wildly at a guy's head. Again, I know it was an accident, but still. Maybe it's the hockey attitude in me, I don't know, but regardless of the intentions, Horford needed a word. Just a word. Not a punch, or a fight, or a shove. Just a word.

As for Ford, it looks like he's going to miss at least a week of action, if not more. He flew back to Toronto Wednesday morning, after his charter plane made a pit stop in Baltimore. Why Baltimore, you ask? To pick up injured Raptor Jorge Garbajosa, who had surgery on his ankle and leg. Gotta love the service, eh? Only for a Toronto team suffering from the Maple Leafs Sports and Entertainment injury plague does a plane go around picking up injured guys across North America. Unbelievable. Get well soon, boys...

Bates Battaglia:

To some hockey news. My man Bates Battaglia has been waived by the Toronto Maple Leafs and will now report to the Toronto Marlies. Battaglia has watched most of the season from the press box and when he has played, his ice time has averaged less than five minutes a game. It sucks, because I like Battaglia and what he brought to the Leafs last year. He was productive, with over 30 points, and he played around 10 to 12 minutes a game.

This year, he's been a casualty to the Leafs depth and it's unfortunate because he finally seemed to be getting his career back on track. The Leafs should try and trade him because Battaglia is not an AHL hockey player. He can play in the NHL, there's no doubt about it. It's a shame he loses a roster spot to someone like Wade Belak, who scores one goal every four years, and is the toast of Toronto.

Here's hoping Bates lands back on his feet.

Peace out, Toronto.

An Asterisk It Is

Fashion designer Marc Ecko bought Barry Bonds' record-breaking home run ball - number 756 - for over $750,000. He then put the fate of the ball in the hands of the public. The results are in...

Finally, some news about Barry Bonds - the big-headed one - I want to hear. It's official - the ball Bonds hit over the fence for home run number 756, to break Hank Aaron's record, will be branded with an asterisk and sent to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.

Shoutout to Marc Ecko. The dude's pulled some crazy stunts in the past, but his decision to buy Bonds' home run ball and leave it up to the public to decide what to do with it was pure genius.

Bonds is the all-time home run record holder, and likely a first-ballot hall of famer. There's no doubt he is going to Cooperstown. But he's going to Cooperstown with an asterisk next to his name. Bonds has testified to a grand jury that he took steroids, but claimed he never thought they were steroids. The bottom line is that the steroid allegations that have dogged him over the last few seasons will never, ever go away. Already, thousands of baseball fans have put their own asterisk next to his name. In the end, his legacy will be determined by the fans. Some guys love him and think he is the greatest baseball player of all time. Others believe he is a full-fledged cheater, and hate him and everything he stands for. You can put me in the latter.

After buying the baseball Ecko started a website - www.vote756.com - and left it up to the public to decide what to do with the ball. We had three options:

A) Bestow it intact to Cooperstown

2. Permanently brand the ball with an asterisk before sending it to Cooperstown

D) Launch it into outer space

Over 10 million votes were cast, including nine of my own. 47% of voters chose to send the ball to the Hall of Fame branded permanently with an asterisk. It's music to my ears.

On a side note, there was a great post in the Globe on Baseball Blog in regards to option C - let Josh Towers pitch the ball and anyone could knock it into outer space. I couldn't agree more.

I, too, voted to brand the baseball. I truly believe in my baseball heart that the ball is important and belongs in Cooperstown, but it deserves to go in tainted; branded with an asterisk to let the future generations of baseball fans know that Bonds knowingly took performance-enhancing drugs.

You can tell me until you're blue in the face that Bonds has never been proven guilty in a court of law, or that hundreds of other baseball players were cheating at the time. It doesn't matter. Bonds testified to a grand jury that he took banned substances - that's the only thing that matters. The book Game of Shadows proves it without a doubt.

Years down the road, if I have a son of my own, I want him to ask me why there's an asterisk on Barry Bonds' record-setting home run ball when I take him to Cooperstown. I want to be able to sit little SportsAndTheCity Jr. down on my lap, and explain to him the asterisked legacy of the big-headed one, Barry Bonds.

Thanks to one Marc Ecko, I'll be able to.

Say It Ain't So, Troy

Sports Illustrated is reporting that Troy Glaus received steroids from a Florida pharmacy in 2003 and 2004. I guess it was only a matter of time before a Toronto Blue Jays player got caught up in the steroids storm...

I am not happy. All the talk about steroids was supposed to have been done and gone. Barry Bonds, and his mammoth head, hit home run number 756. Finally he was gone from the sporting landscape, along with the cloud of steroid allegations that will hang over his head for the rest of his life.

And now this.

First, Rick Ankiel. What an idiot. Everyone fell in love with him over the past month. He was the perfect tonic after seeing Barry Bonds night after night on my television. Ankiel, the pitcher who forgot how to pitch but who went down to the minors and became a home run hitting machine. Today, we have a clearer idea of just how he became a home run hitting machine.

And now Troy Glaus. The Toronto Blue Jays' own Troy Glaus. My Troy Glaus. Ouch. This one hurts. Earlier this year I said that if Troy Glaus were a hockey player in this town, he'd be a local hero due to his penchant to play through injuries. Hero? I'm not sure I can mention that word and Troy Glaus in the same sentence anymore.

Glaus reportedly received multiple packages of nandrolone and testosterone in September 2003 and May 2004. Not just once, but multiple times.

Although they are right now only allegations, Glaus, the perennial all-star and World Series MVP in 2002, has lost a lot of respect in my books. He shouldn't even be mentioned in a story that has anything to do with steroids. It's despicable. Those who take steroids are cheaters, and I won't stand for them. I won't respect them and I won't cheer for them. Glaus has embarrassed himself, the Toronto Blue Jays organization, his teammates, and the city of Toronto.

Right now, he gets the benefit of the doubt. I'm looking forward to what he has to say to the media. And a "no comment" simply won't cut it. If the allegations are true, it's of my humble opinion that he does not deserve to wear the Blue Jays uniform ever again.

Look me in the eye, Mighty Troy. Look me in the eye and say it ain't so. Tell me the "Might" in "Mighty Troy" did not come from steroids. Otherwise pack your bags, because it's over.

756

It's finally, mercifully, over. Barry Bonds went yard for the 756th time Tuesday night, surpassing the great Hank Aaron and ending an awkward chase to one of pro sports' greatest records.

I want to pinch myself. I can't believe it's over. I'm so sick of seeing Bonds' bulbous head on my television screen. There's only so much Barry Bonds I can take, and I'm probably the happiest dude out there now that he's broken the record.

Seven hundred and fifty six home runs. When you write it out like that, it's even more impressive. That's a lot of home runs. I'll give credit where it's due, because I know that Bonds hit the majority of his home runs before he started juicing. He was a legitimate hall of famer before the steroids. At the end of the day, he got to 756 home runs in approximately 3000 fewer at bats than Hank Aaron. That simply blows my mind.

Three thousand at bats! At the same time, Bonds has walked more than any other baseball player as well. Everyone tries to pitch around him, but he still hits home runs. He's a marvel. A freak of nature. What he's been able to accomplish at his age is stunning, and goes against all conventional wisdom. You don't get better with age. Not in any sport. Especially baseball. The body breaks down and the timing is the first to go. Hitting a 90 mile-per-hour fastball is one of the most difficult things to do, but Bonds does it with ease as a 43 year old. He is special. But there's no doubt in my mind he took steroids, and knew that he was taking steroids.

The home run. It's the ultimate play in baseball, and maybe even in all of pro sports. The home run revived baseball in America, after the lockout in 1994 cost MLB its World Series, and put the game on life support.

I was a huge baseball fan in the early 90's, but baseball lost its appeal during the strike of 94. I fell for the game of hockey, and it remains my true passion today. Baseball still holds a dear place in my heart, and I'll never forget the summer of 1998 when Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa rewrote the history books. That's when I went back to baseball. McGwire's 70 home runs were pure drama. I watched his every at bat when he was chasing Roger Maris' record of 61. I watched him hit number 62, and 65, and ultimately, number 70. It was magical. It was only revealed after the fact that McGwire too, was on the juice.

Bonds' chase for 756 was different. To see him get booed in every stadium but San Francisco is amazing. Only in one city is he embraced. The steroid cloud follows Bonds where ever he goes, and while baseball celebrated the exploits of McGwire and Sosa, no one except for the fans of San Francisco knew how to react to Bonds' pursuit of the all-time home run record.

I watched Bonds smack number 756 into the bleachers live. It was history in the making, yet I sat there emotionless. It didn't effect me. I don't like Barry Bonds. I never really have. Maybe it's because he's been in the National League his whole career and I've never really gotten to see him play. Or maybe it's because he's known to be one of the rudest and most ungrateful athletes on the planet.

In my heart, I know Bonds cheated. I know McGwire did too, but for some reason I see Bonds in a different light, and I'm not sure why. I'm still trying to figure it out.

I've heard the argument on behalf of Barry Bonds - that the majority of ball players take steroids and cheat. I fear we'll never know the truth about how many players really were, and still are, on the juice. Many players have been suspended thanks to baseball's new drug-testing policy. What I do know is that some guys have to take steroids in order to stay in the big leagues. To get that extra two miles on their fastball, or to let that shoulder heal just a little bit quicker, in order to keep their job.

Barry Bonds didn't need to take steroids to keep his job, or to earn his paycheck. He was already one of the greatest ball players of our generation. A five-tool player who could do it all. A man who could hit 40 home runs and steal 40 bases. But 40 home runs in a season wasn't enough for Bonds. He wanted more. He took the juice for all the wrong reasons, and that's why I can't forgive him.

Asterisk or no asterisk, Barry Bonds has hit number 756. There will be no celebration on this end. Just an acknowledgement. I'm just glad it's over...

Deep Thoughts

For my loyal readers - yes, all two of you - I'm pleased to report that The Poni Express has officially arrived. I got paid. $100 cool, crisp, easily-earned dollars. Well, I wouldn't say too easily. It came down to the wire. Thanks to my boy 40, for being a man of his word, and thanks to my main man Alexei Ponikarovsky for coming through with 21 goals. I believe in the Poni. He's gonna pot 30 this year.

Anyways, much has been going on in the sporting world recently - it's almost been overwhelming. It's time for SportsAndTheCity to weigh in with his two cents on the happenings in the sporting world.

I think Michael Vick is one of the dumbest men on the planet. The dog fighting scandal, which could potentially take away his freedom, will, if it hasn't already, become his legacy. Vick got himself into this situation, and is therefore an idiot. He deserves whatever the justice system throws at him, including jail time and a prolonged suspension from the NFL, if he is found guilty. I am by no means a fan of dogs, or pets for that matter, but even I wouldn't do what he supposedly did to the dogs mentioned his indictment. Idiot...

I think the Toronto Blue Jays season is officially over. The Jays won five in a row before embarking on a six-game road trip to the south side of Chicago and sunny Florida. Six games against the lowly White Sox and the ever-pathetic Devil Rays. This was prime time for the Jays to make their run. I'm talking Deion Sanders "Primetime" - you know, hopping into the end zone. But the Jays went two-and-four on the trip. Losing two of three to the White Sox I can understand, but dropping two of three to the Devil Rays is absolutely unacceptable, especially at this time of the season. The Jays scored eight runs in three games against Tampa Bay, whose pitchers own the worst E.R.A. in all of baseball. Pathetic. Bring out the salami and cheese Chuck Swirsky, this baseball season is over mama...

I think Josh Towers is the ultimate tool. This guy's got some nerve calling out his teammates and the coaching staff, which he did in Chicago last week. I don't care how competitive Towers is, a man that owns a 5-8 win-loss record and a horrific 5.17 E.R.A. has absolutely no right calling out anybody. Not even Royce freakin' Clayton. Take a look in the God damn mirror, Towers. I wish I could take a vaudevillian hook and just yank Towers off the Blue Jays' roster. If you don't know what a vaudevillian hook is, Google it...

I think, uh oh, the Boston Celtics are going to be mighty good this coming season. Celtic pride? Yeah, I'd say so. I'm not ready, however, to hand them the Atlantic Division title. Like Jerry told George when George wanted to be his Latex Salesman - "I don't think so." Not after my Toronto Raptors worked their asses off to claim the title last year. Regardless of Kevin Garnett, Ray Allen and Paul Pierce (say it with the Boston accent with me - Powl Pieeeeaace) in Beantown, this is still the Raptors' division to lose. Allen and Pierce are historically injury prone, so one of them is bound to go down. And I don't know what everyone else is thinking, but there's only one ball to go around for those three all-stars. That could pose a problem. The Raptors have the deepest bench in the Eastern Conference and that is their strength. The Celtics, meanwhile, have no bench. They traded everyone away to land The Big Ticket - Kevin Garnett. Great nickname, by the way. Anyhow, the Raps' bench will step up and deliver Toronto its second-straight division title. You heard it here first, my friends...

I think I hate Barry Bonds. Actually check that, I know I hate him. It hasn't set in that Bonds - the "big-headed one" as Pete McGentegart of Sports Illustrated's the 10 Spot calls him - is only one home run away from Hark Aarons hallowed 755. Bonds has been a jerk to the media and the fans his entire career, is a full-fledged cheater, was already destined to go to the Hall of Fame before he started juicing, and is just a miserable individual to be around. He doesn't appreciate that he is a man playing a boy's game. He's ungrateful, and that's the worst trait a professional athlete can possess, in my humble opinion. I know it's terrible, but here's hoping Barry Bonds meets with an unfortunate accident before he hits number 756...

I think I don't understand what the rest of Toronto sees in Matt Stajan. There was an article in The Star saying that if Mike Peca stays with the Leafs, then Matt Stajan goes. Now that headline made me put on my dancing shoes, like R. Kelly. Everyday I log onto The Star's website hoping to learn that Stajan has finally been traded. It seems, however, that I'm in the minority when it comes to this dream. A recent poll in the Toronto Star showed that 69% of Torontonians would choose Matt Stajan over Mike Peca. The results of the poll are mind-boggling to me. All I can ask is - like Jerry Seinfeld asked the girl whom he was seeing when he found out she had gone out with Newman, with an exasperated look on his face - "why!?" And I don't want to hear "because he's younger." Stajan's age - he'll be 24 this December, while Peca is 33 - doesn't make him skate any faster, give him a harder slapshot, or make him a better hockey player. Someone please tell me what Stajan has to offer to next season's Leafs squad? Peca is a better all-around player who I have no doubt can score as many goals as Stajan did last year - 10. Peca is also a better face-off man, a better defensive player, a grittier player, and a better penalty killer. Forget about their respective ages, and there's no way anyone can tell me that Matt Stajan offers more to the Leafs than Mike Peca. 2079 people would rather have Stajan, compared to only 929 who want Peca, in The Star poll. Basically, 69% of Leafs fans are out of their minds. I hate Stajan...

I think it would be an absolute travesty if David Beckham doesn't play in this weekends match in Toronto, with the L.A. Galaxy in town to visit Toronto FC. Scalpers are selling tickets to the game for billions, and it just wouldn't be right for people to shell out so much coin and not see Beckham spend a minute on the pitch. I understand that he's injured, but without playing a single regular season game he is already the face of the league, and has a responsibility to his team, the league and it's fans. Eight out of the sixteen sellouts in Major League Soccer this year are courtesy of Toronto FC fans. I had a chance to visit BMO Field for Toronto's friendly with English club Aston Villa, and I must say the atmosphere is great. The sight lines in the stadium are all good, and it's clear to me why soccer is already a hit in this city. The MLS All-Star game is coming to Toronto next year, and rightfully so. Come one Beckham, make like a hockey player, suck it up, and get your ass in the lineup...

I think I love fantasy sports. We held our draft tonight for the keeper hockey league I'm in, and it was a blast. My brother is the commissioner of the fantasy league we all devote so much time to, and he's done a fabulous job, I must say. A lot of work goes into a keeper league, but it's great fun, and an even better time-waster. I finished second last year, and traded away most my draft picks for this coming season in the process. I gave up the farm, as they say. My newly drafted team stinks, but the rebuilding process won't be long, I hope. I'm blessed to have the wonder-boy Sidney Crosby, so hopefully my stay at the bottom of the league won't last long. It's unbelievable that fantasy sports are a $1 billion dollar industry today. Although it certainly isn't surprising. It's the closest I'll ever get to managing my own hockey team...

I think the Boston Red Sox are the team to beat in the American League. Their bullpen is off the heezy, with Hideki Okajima, the newly acquired Canadian Eric Gagne, and Jonathan Papelbon. Their staff E.R.A. is the best in the game, and now innings seven, eight and nine will be lights out 95% of the time. A great trade to land Gagne, I must say. The Red Sox and Yankees know no limits. Boston is the team to beat. I'm jealous. Sigh... I think it's extremely interesting that no one Jose Canseco accused of taking steriods/performance-enhancing drugs in his book last year has even tried to sue him. Cough! - I'm lookin at you Barry Bonds - Cough! Usually, when someone says an author or person has lied, they sue him or her for libel. Yet Canseco has no subpoena's to deal with, and is getting ready to publish his second book. I think that's bait... I think I'm tired, and it's time for bed...

Goodnight, Toronto.