Time to Bond?

Reaction to dad's death should show Barry the public wants to like him

Some lovely words have been written and said about Bobby Bonds since his death this past Saturday, but it wouldn't be surprising if his son Barry hasn't read or heard any of them. From what we know of Barry Bonds, it's safe to say he isn't likely to turn to media eulogies to help him through the grieving process.

That's perfectly understandable, but perhaps sometime, after he has had a chance to mourn, Barry will take a moment to look at and listen to the ways that other people reacted to his father's passing. Maybe he'll take note of the fact that more than 40,000 people stood, silent and somber, as the scoreboard showed Bobby's image at Pac Bell Park Saturday afternoon. Perhaps Barry will read the newspaper column that ended, "May God bless Bobby Bonds and his family," or the other articles that gave the Giants left fielder so much credit for his ability to continue playing at such a high level while his father was battling cancer. Maybe someone will show Barry tapes of the video tributes to his dad that were all over television last weekend, or tell him about the dozens of fans who called in to radio stations to share their memories of his father and send their condolences to the Bonds family.

If that happens, maybe Barry eventually will come to understand that complete strangers sincerely wished him comfort during his time of pain, and not just because they were eager to see him come back and crush another fastball. You get the feeling that Barry would be surprised to find that the rest of us think of him as anything other than a home-run hitting machine. Maybe once he recognizes that we're aware he has a heart and a soul, he'll be willing to show it to us a little more often.

It would be naive to expect some drastic change in Barry's prickly public persona. He's not going to turn all warm and fuzzy simply because of the kindness of strangers. But it's easy to imagine how some of his well-known disdain for the media and fans could have been formed during his childhood, when he first saw his father criticized for not completely living up to the great promise he showed as a San Francisco Giant, and then watched as Bobby was traded around like a baseball card to seven teams in seven years. If the five-time MVP hasn't exactly shown us the enthusiasm of a child, maybe it's at least partly because he saw so much of the business side of the game when he was one.

But now Barry is seeing something else, or at least he will if he ever decides to look. We -- the media, the public, all of us -- don't always distinguish ourselves with our sense of decorum. We want all the juicy details of the Kobe case, we make ghoulish Ted Williams jokes. But in Bonds' case, we have shown the appropriate sensitivity. Barry hasn't been treated like a story so much as he's been treated like a friend who has lost a loved one.

We're not his friends, of course, but we're not his enemies either. Perhaps some small good will come of this tragedy and Barry Bonds will finally begin to realize that.

Sports Illustrated senior writer Phil Taylor writes about a Hot Button topic every Monday on SI.com.