Bonds is home, so he can run away with it

By Bill Plaschke

July 10, 2007 12 AM PT

Bill Dwyre can be reached at bill.dwyre@latimes.com. For previous columns by Dwyre, go to latimes.com/dwyre.

SAN FRANCISCO —

He thinks he’s getting away with it.

You could hear it in his cackle. You could see it in his smirk.

Barry Bonds showed up at the news conference before his crowning All-Star moment Monday like he had just dog-paddled his way from Alcatraz.

He thinks nobody can catch him now.

The last-minute voting barrage that landed him in the starting lineup in today’s All-Star game has supposedly shown the nation he is respected.

“I have 2 million friends you guys didn’t know about, and I love it,” he said.

His appearance on his home field today amid a bridge-rattling ovation will apparently show the nation he is loved.

“My town, my friends, my people,” he said.

Five more home runs and the breaking of Hank Aaron’s career record will surely show the nation he is immortal.

“I’ll hear boos, then click, click, click, click,” he said, referring to camera flashes. “Fans like baseball.... Regardless of what anyone says, they are going to come, they want to see it happen.”

He thinks he can disappear this winter having avoided asterisk and indictment. He will probably be voted into the Hall of Fame by those who consider him greater than his flaws.

It’s all finally coming together. The perfect crime is nearing completion.

Barry Bonds thinks he’s getting away with the murder of baseball’s integrity.

And here in the final stretch of his great escape, man, did he rub it in.

“Do you know me?” he scolded one of the dozens of reporters who surrounded him Monday. “What have I done? Do you know anything I’ve done? Have you seen me do anything wrong? I ask you a question. Have you seen me do anything wrong? So how can you judge me?”

Bonds began the news conference by standing at his ballroom table with his arms outstretched, inviting the media to bypass the other seated All-Stars and come to him.

He spent the next hour acting cocky and carefree, ripping Commissioner Bud Selig, questioning booing fans, saying that some of the criticism toward him was racially motivated.

At the end of the session, when asked to describe the best thing about being Barry Bonds, he smiled and shrugged.

“I’m at peace,” he said.

He is a party of one.

Bonds may be happy, but baseball is not, as it continued to carefully and uncomfortably step around his frayed aura even during the happiest two days of the season.

Earlier Monday, when asked if he was going to speak to Bonds, Manager Jim Leyland of the Detroit Tigers laughed.

“He’ll probably blow me off,” he said.

Later Monday, the participants in the home run derby were asked about Bonds’ refusal to join them.

For the longest time, nobody answered.

Bonds said he refused to play in the derby because it is a long affair and taxes the body and messes with the swing.

“At my age, it’ s more important to be there for my team,” he said. “It’s not something I don’t want to do. It’s something that I can’t do. It’s not worth the risk to hurt yourself.”

All true. But sometimes the game is bigger than the ache, and this was one of those times.

As a reward to those fans who stuffed the ballot boxes in the final week of voting, he should have competed. To show gratitude to a Giants organization that re-signed him for moments like these, he should taken a few hacks.

If only to escort hobbled hero Willie McCovey to home plate at the start of the derby, he should have been there.

Then he had the nerve to wonder why baseball didn’t want to use him in any other functions here this week.

“I wish they’d ask me to do something else,” he said. “They didn’t ask me to do anything else.”

Even as his white dress shirt rippled above his arms, even as his gray vest appeared on the verge of popping open, even with nearby TVs running old All-Star footage of a skinny man who looks nothing like this Bonds, he couldn’t understand why road crowds have booed his every home run.

“Why are you booing me?” he said. “That would be my question. Why?”

Hmmm. Let’s see. The overwhelming evidence alleging that he used steroids? The anecdotal evidence that he can be a disrespectful jerk?

After summoning reporters to his table, Bonds blamed much of his problems on them.

“I feel disappointed in ... some of those fans that are influenced by third-party judgments and have not given me that opportunity of getting to know me,” he said, later adding, “To judge me based on a third party, that is what disappoints me. Yet I’ve actually done nothing wrong to you. I’ve gone to your stadium and tried to entertain you. ... I’ve just tried to play my game the best I can, and you’ve allowed a third party to influence you on basing your opinion on who I am.”

Two people who have clearly passed judgment are Aaron and Selig, neither of whom will commit to attending games in which Bonds can break the record.

Bonds is giving Aaron a pass, even though Aaron is clearly uncomfortable with Bonds’ reputation.

“It could take a week,” Bonds said of the timetable of his final homer. “To ask him to travel the entire continent for a week, it’s not fair to him. To ask him to give up his entire life, it shouldn’t be like that.”

However, Bonds thinks Selig should show up, and is clearly angry he might not.

“It’s just terrible the way it’s gone down,” he said. “But it’s not up to me, it’s up to Bud. ... Whether Bud shows up or doesn’t show up, I’m going to play baseball that day.”

Bonds was asked if, as commissioner, he would show up for such a record.

“Would I be there? I’d be there, that’s my duty,” he said. “But I’m not speaking for [Selig]. ... I have respect for Bud.”

Selig, I’m guessing, will attempt to be there when Bonds breaks the record. Unlike Bonds, Selig recognizes that sometimes the game is bigger than the individual.

And, like Bonds, Selig is probably resigned to the fact that the guy may actually beat the rap.

“In time, it will pass,” Bonds said. “It pretty much has passed for everybody.”

Why wouldn’t it pass, right? Unlike the ruined Mark McGwire or Sammy Sosa, Bonds has the longevity and the absence of congressional testimony.

Oh yeah, former trainer and confidant Greg Anderson is currently sitting in prison for refusing to talk.

“I’ve lived a dream my whole entire life, no matter what anybody says,” Bonds said.

He said it is a dream that has been punctuated by hate.

“I’ve had to endure quite a bit, but I don’t really talk about it,” he said. “I do have some racial letters toward myself.”

He said it is a dream filled with misunderstanding.

“We still want to be treated with the same kind of respect that you want to be treated with,” he said. “I have no right to judge you when I don’t know you. I have no right.”

He said, however, that it is a dream that will endure.

“The game is the game, how you guys judge it after that, that is how you guys judge it,” he said. “But I’ll be happy with myself.”

Asked whether he was reveling in getting the last laugh, he bristled.

“I’m not trying to get the last laugh, this isn’t a game, this isn’t comedy, this isn’t a joke,” he said. “You want the truth, speak the truth, let’s go.”

The truth is, Barry Bonds thinks he’s getting away with it.

The truth is, I fear he might be right.

Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

Chasing Aaron ... and Bonds

Barry Bonds leads all active players with 751 home runs, second all time to Hank Aaron’s 755. Alex Rodriguez is fifth among active players at 494. Active leaders and their all-time rank in parentheses:

751

Barry Bonds

(second)

602

Sammy Sosa

(fifth)

586

Ken Griffey Jr.

(tied for sixth)

501

Frank Thomas

(21st)