"barry Who?"

Myself, I grabbed life by the ears and took it dancing. I stayed up late and got up early and was nice to dogs and children and young ladies. Especially young ladies. Forget the home runs, I'd like to see Barry try to follow that pace. Baseball and everything around it were a joy and a wonder for me and I just kept swinging and some of those balls I hit are still traveling, kept in the air by conversation and lore, myth and romance. Will Barry be able to say that?

"You were Lucky Lindy," Gehrig said to me as he settled into the big chair to get his ears lowered. "These other guys, especially Barry, they're Steve Fossett or that Richard Branson character, spending money to buy records that don't really matter much."

I don't know much about those two fellas, Fossett and Branson, but I have to agree. No one can take away what I did. I forever am the Sultan of Swat. I also am the Caliph of Clout, the Wizard of Whack, the Wazir of Wham, the Mammoth of Maul, the Maharajah of Mash, the Prince of Pounders, the Behemoth of Bash. I am the Colossus. I am the Bambino, the Bam, the Big Bam. I am the Babe.

Barry Bonds is, well, Barry Bonds. Enough said.

> Leigh Montville is the author of The Big Bam: The Life and Times of Babe Ruth, published this week by Doubleday.

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