Bonds Remains Critics’ Choice

The best hitter in baseball will find out today whether he’ll be getting that ring he’s been wanting. It’s his best chance yet to silence any remaining critics. You know, the ones who would ignore the 613 career regular season home runs and the four -- soon to be five -- Most Valuable Player awards and instead seem to focus on those 17 years he’s spent chasing an elusive World Series title.

It’s the same old story, the same old question: What has he won? Bonds has led teams to the playoffs six times, and just this year enjoyed winning a series for the first time.

If Hollywood were writing this script -- well, perhaps not a Disney studio -- it might have Bonds smack a game-winning home run today in Game 7. But if many baseball fans have their way, he might be the goat.

For the first eight days of this Series, Bonds has starred with his athletic skills on baseball’s biggest stage, showing even the game’s most casual fans what all the fuss has been about. He’s hit prodigious home runs -- four in all, including matching 485-foot shots through weighted night air in Games 2 and 6 that left even Angel players slack-jawed in their dugout -- and reached base at a dizzying pace. All while also fully living up to another well-earned reputation -- for being unemotional, dour and cocky.

Imagine, he wasn’t in a good mood after Saturday night’s 6-5 loss to the Anaheim Angels. So, while Tim Worrell, who was shelled in one-third of an inning of relief, patiently answered questions a few feet away, Bonds chased reporters from around his and Kenny Lofton’s locker, quickly dressed, and headed for the door without offering a word. Therefore, we might never know what happened to cause Garret Anderson’s eighth inning single to twice squirt from his bare hand, allowing Anderson to hustle into second base after the error. Or whether, with a better jump, he might have caught the laser Troy Glaus then hit over his head, scoring Anderson with the go-head run.

Both were key plays, especially because Anderson, who has had a tight hamstring, might not have scored from first on Glaus’ hit. Of course, there was also the mammoth home run to talk about, the one he hit off Angel phenom Francisco Rodriguez leading off the sixth inning.

Bonds, as has his reputation throughout his career, rolled with the coaster Saturday night. The good with the bad. That’s the paradox that is Bonds. He is a wonderful talent and nearly universally accepted as the best ballplayer of his era. Yet, he is, in an age of instant celebrity, an anti-celebrity.

Reporters have written that he is “arrogant,” “rude,” and a “poster boy for the modern, spoiled athlete.” Didn’t you see him stroll, so self-centeredly, directly to his place on the baseline during pregame introductions before the first Series game in San Francisco? Didn’t the rest of the Giant players slap hands and exchange words of encouragement with each of their teammates and coaches?

Bonds, it seems, goes his own way a lot. He doesn’t eat with the team -- he has his own nutritionist and diet -- and doesn’t stretch with the team -- he has his own routine for that, too. His place in the Giants’ clubhouse at Pacific Bell Park is more than twice the size of his teammates’, none of whom has a leather recliner at their cubicle.

And so a Bonds’ victory today, for many, would lack sentiment. Watching him embrace his son, Nikolai, and plant a kiss on him after his home run on Saturday somehow wasn’t quite the same as seeing John Elway cradle football’s Super Bowl trophy or Ray Bourque hoist hockey’s Stanley Cup in moments of glory enjoyed at the ends of their storied careers. In terms of pure ability, Bonds is to baseball what Michael Jordan was to basketball and Wayne Gretzky to hockey. He’s just not nearly as beloved.

Jordan and Gretzky were global ambassadors for their sports, reveling in their extraordinary talents. Bonds isn’t much of an ambassador at all. He has few endorsements and enjoys limited popularity outside the environs of the Bay Area. Part of that can be traced to Bonds’ relationship with the media. It is strained, at best. Athletes haven’t always cozied up to reporters -- Jordan, for example, has been known to cop a major attitude -- but few can kill an interview session with such an icy stare.

Maybe that’s why the players in Bonds’ company on baseball’s career home run list all have nicknames -- Henry Aaron was “Hammerin’ Hank,” Babe Ruth the “Sultan of Swat,” and Willie Mays the “Say Hey Kid,” but sportswriters have penned no such poetic or musical tributes for Bonds. Sorry, the occasional and snide “Mr. Personality” doesn’t count.

Four years ago, Mark McGwire’s prodigious home runs and Sammy Sosa’s playful nature captivated a nation as they chased Roger Maris’ record for home runs hit in a season. Last year, when Bonds reached a milestone by hitting the 500th homer of his career, teammates stayed in the dugout as he crossed the plate. Later, as he went on to slug 73 homers, surpassing the 70 McGwire hit in 1998, many fans remained apathetic.

McGwire’s record-setting home run was recently voted fourth among baseball’s most memorable moments. Bonds’ feat of re-establishing that record wasn’t even in the top 10. No surprise there. The list was the result of an Internet fan poll. Bonds doesn’t win many popularity contests.

One reason is that little about him exudes warmth or friendliness with even his occasional acts of kindness toward fans. When he catches the final out of the inning, he’ll flip the ball over his shoulder into the stands as he jogs toward the dugout -- but he won’t make eye contact with any of those people in the seats. Another reason may be that Bonds chooses to keep private his good deeds.

Giant broadcaster Jon Miller tells of meeting a woman at PacBell Park who was there to take in a ballgame in celebration of her “100-and-something” birthday. She was there, she told Miller, by the kindness of Bonds, who also routinely brightened her day by visiting her.

“I don’t recall hearing about a press conference about it,” Miller said of Bonds’ generosity, “or seeing anything in the newspaper.” Friends say there is, indeed, a soft side to Bonds.

“I think if the public took the time to get to know him, they would know that Barry is a very caring person, a sensitive person,” said Atlanta Brave outfielder Gary Sheffield, one of Bonds’ closest friends in baseball. “Barry does things for people, we’re talking about major things, major money, major time. He does things for his heart. He doesn’t care what people think.” Not that it was always that way. Bonds just discovered he couldn’t please everyone -- and quit trying. “If he would have been different to accommodate people, they’re still not going to like you anyway,” Sheffield said. “Half the people are going to like you and half not.”

Worrying about it would only be a distraction.

“It’s hard for me to come in here and just talk,” Bonds said before a gathering of reporters earlier this week. “I want to do my talking on the field. That’s where it counts. That’s where it matters.”

Bonds, who was born in Riverside on July 24, 1964, owes his ball-playing skills to a combination of nature and nurture. He carries major-league chromosomes from his father, Bobby, who spent half of his 14-year career with the Giants and hit 332 home runs. And he was reared in an environment that allowed him to shag fly balls before games and run around in the Giants’ clubhouse. The great Mays is his godfather. Baseball seemed to come easy to Bonds, who had a .467 batting average his senior year at Serra High in San Mateo, played three years at Arizona State before he was selected by the Pittsburgh Pirates with the sixth pick in the 1985 draft, and was in the big leagues a year later.

Playing for the Giants, with whom he’s played since 1993, allowed him spend more time with his father, who worked as the team’s hitting coach from 1993-96 and now serves as a special assistant for player personnel. “I share everything with my father,” Bonds said. “Not just baseball.”

Bonds was also able to reunite with a high school friend, Liz Watson, whom he married in 1998 after a nasty divorce from his first wife that required six years of court proceedings to determine a financial settlement. He has a son, Nikolai, and daughter from his first marriage and a daughter with Watson. Daughters Shikari and Aisha Lynn watch from the stands, sometimes holding signs imploring opponents to pitch to their daddy.

Those signs are often ignored. Having set the single-season home run record last season, Bonds this season established a record with 198 walks during the regular season. (Teammate Shawon Dunston, by contrast, has walked 203 times in his 18-year career). Many games, he saw only three or four strikes yet he led the majors with a .370 batting average and also hit 46 home runs with 110 runs batted in. He reached base by hit, walk or being hit by pitch almost six out of every 10 times he stepped into the batter’s box, a previously unimaginable feat.

Dodger Manager Jim Tracy said the best strategy against Bonds is “cross your fingers and hope he doesn’t get a chance to bat where he can hurt you.”

In the World Series, Angel Manager Mike Scioscia is having a hard time determining when that might be. When might a solo home run might be the game-winning home run. Already down 3-0 on Saturday, the Angel manager had Rodriguez challenge Bonds.

Suddenly, it was 4-0. Bonds’ threat is constant. But no matter what he does critics are hesitant to give him his full due. They point out that he looks more like a football linebacker these days than the skinny leadoff hitter he was when he entered the big leagues. The sudden weight gain and the increase in his home run production so late in his career have prompted many to speculate that he is using steroids. Bonds says he uses creatine, which is a legal dietary supplement, but denies using steroids.

One undeniable knock on his career -- until this season -- was his history of postseason failure. Before these playoffs he had a career postseason batting average of .196 with one home run. This postseason, he is batting .357 with eight home runs, 16 RBIs and a record 26 walks.

Sheffield said he used to brag to Bonds about the World Series ring he won in 1997 with the Florida Marlins. “I used to tease him, but then I saw how serious it really became,” Sheffield said. “I saw how deep it was in him that he wanted to win.” But Bonds insists that he does not need a championship ring to complete his career.

“I don’t ever hear them downgrade Ted Williams when they talk about how good a player he was,” Sheffield said, evoking the man many considered to be the game’s best hitter. “He never won.” After today, we’ll know if the same must be said of Bonds.

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Times staff writer J.A. Andande contributed to this report.

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Barry Bonds by the Numbers

A look at some of Barry Bonds’ postseason numbers:

Games...16

At-bats...42

Runs...18

Hits...15

Home runs...8

RBIs...16

Walks...26

Strikeouts...6

Average....357

On-base%....586

Slug %...1.024