That's what fans are for

Although that fact that I bought tickets to a day game in July (game time forecast: 96 degrees, but only! 42% humidity) proves I didn't exactly overthink it, I admit that I wanted to see the Giants when they came to town this season. But not to see Bonds.

Last year, when the new Busch Stadium opened and the morning single-game tickets went on sale was a true frenzy--the season sold out in ninety minutes or some such--I had pretty good luck, and, truth be told, dozens of windows open on two computers, but I didn't get the Giants which I wanted for historical reasons and the number of former Cardinals wearing the orange and black. But not to see Bonds.

This year, I had somewhat lousier luck, ticket-wise, but I did secure the privilege of overpaying for loge box seats in which to swelter while St. Louis plays San Francisco. It didn't occur to me at the time that Bonds would be close to Hank Aaron's steroid-free home run record, but it turns out he's only 4 away from a bogus tie. He shouldn't hit 755 here, thank goodness, though considering the Redbird pitchers that will take the mound, stranger, though no less drug-induced things have happened.

Given that St. Louis was the site of Mr. "Steroids is Bad" McGwire's own tainted record, the latest sportswriterly fashion among the locals has become to chastise anyone who would boo or harrass Barry, painting him instead almost as a victim of his times.

In the end, though, Bonds is just another product of his era. He didn’t change the guidelines for the big leagues, he just adapted to the new environment.

The long ball sold tickets, so Major League Baseball allowed its sluggers to juice up and go crazy -– like so many WWE muscleheads battling to become the Next New Thing in professional wrestling.

Competition is competition and business is business. Pride and greed are powerful motivators. Ballplayers became bodybuilders.

Given the extraordinary stakes, can we really blame these athletes for seeking an edge? Bonds saw the love McGwire and Sammy Sosa got during their home-run derby and wanted some of that glory (and rewards) for himself.

He took extreme measures to add size and power to his frame. He transformed himself into a sideshow freak.

He put himself at risk for long-term health troubles and he became a dangerous example for young athletes to follow.

But to single out Bonds and abuse him as the human embodiment of all that went wrong with Our National Pastime . . . well, that is simply unfair.If fans want to paint angry banners and signs to display at the ballpark, they should criticize everybody involved.

Fans should hold Bud Selig, the owners, the general managers, the manager and the players accountable for what went terribly wrong.

Now, there are plenty of good points there. MLB is profoundly hypocritical on this one, and it's corrupted a great game. But beyond the fact that I'm not sure how any individual is supposed to hold an entire league accountable for anything, let's just get back to Barry, and the implication that he's not really responsible for the choices he's made or that his actions are not for fans to judge.

For one thing, just because an entire regime is corrupt doesn't mean that individuals aren't responsible for their behavior, even--especially-- if they know there will be no consequences. Seems oh, so appropriate this week, even if Bonds doesn't play for the Washington Nationals.

Because really, even for his apologists, what's the bottom line? That Barry Bonds was a jealous jackass who sacrificed his health and the integrity of his sport because he saw he could get away with it no matter how large his head grew? That he wanted to be in the record books and knew he couldn't do it otherwise? That he disregarded his influence on young ballplayers who didn't have access to such finely calibrated chemicals as he and may have permanently damaged their bodies or died as a result? That the money makes it all worthwhile, or understandable, or okay? Don't know about you, but I can judge that, and do.

I absolutely judge Bud Selig and the whole sorry bunch, too, right on back to McGwire, and if any of them ever appear in a batter's box, I'll boo them, too, but tomorrow, I only expect to see number 25 for the Giants step up to the plate. And, assuming I haven't passed out from the heat, I'll be sure to let him know what I think.