Pirates right to honor Bonds, but some will never forgive him
It’s about one play, really. That is the reason why so many Pirates fans cannot forgive Barry Bonds. It’s the reason some likely resent the fact that Bonds will join his old manager, Jim Leyland, and Manny Sanguillen in the team’s 2024 Hall of Fame class, as announced Tuesday, and it’s why they never want to see Bonds’ No. 24 retired.
That’s not to say Bonds will be booed at the Aug. 24 ceremony at PNC Park. He won’t be. I’m betting he will be cheered loudly by nearly everyone there. As with Jaromir Jagr, the boos will turn to cheers in that very public setting.
But simmering resentment lurks below – and it’s not about Bonds’ surly personality from back then or even his paltry postseason numbers. It’s not about leaving for San Francisco or allegedly cheating his way to the all-time home run record.
It’s about one play – and I get it. Because it wasn’t just any play. It was probably the single most heartbreaking play in Pittsburgh sports history: Sid Bream sliding home to rob the 1992 Pirates of a chance to go to the World Series.
I came from Buffalo, where Scott Norwood went wide right. Bonds went wide left. Those are the kinds of sports wounds that often never heal. And fairly or not, Bonds is the face of the most crushing loss the Pirates ever had. I
was reminded of that when I recently wrote, in the wake of Jagr’s banner ceremony, that the Pirates should honor Bonds (and the Steelers should honor Terry Bradshaw) in a similar fashion.
The reader comments below the story decidedly disagreed.
A sampling: – “Bradshaw-yes, Bonds-no Way! His throw was about equal to Neil O’donnell’s.”
– “Barry Bonds?? NEVER!!!”
– “Did Starkey somehow forget about Bonds throw to home to get the fleet footed Sid Bream out at the plate?”
– “My 14 year old daughter would have thrown out Sid. And she
didn’t take roids.”
– “Bonds choked in the playoffs repeatedly and I can’t see honoring a man who went on to quite visibly cheat (even though it was with another team). No way on Bonds.”
– “Put bluntly Bonds choked when they needed him the most. I don’t know how you could honor that.”
– “Bradshaw, certainly! Bonds a definite no! Didn’t play here long enough. He was a cheat and had such disrespect for the game.”
– “Bradshaw, big YES. Bonds, absolutely NO.”
You get the idea. But if you’re going to hold the grudge – and again, I get it; I’m still nursing resentments against my high
school basketball coach from 40 years ago – let’s at least focus the grievance on the proper issue. It wasn’t the throw that was so bad. It was what allegedly happened before it, depending on who you believe.
As reported by Anna Mcdonald of ESPN.COM several years ago, and repeated often by center fielder Andy Van Slyke, Van Slyke told Bonds to move in as Francisco Cabrera’s at-bat progressed.
“I got his attention,” Van Slyke told Mcdonald. “But he flipped me the bird. He put his hand up and said, ‘I’ll play where I want to play.’ ”
Bonds was playing a deep left field to protect against a gap shot. When Cabrera singled, Bonds
raced to his left and threw across his body. His throw was about two feet wide, forcing catcher Mike Lavalliere to backhand it, then dive back toward the plate, where he tagged Bream too late.
Leyland, Lloyd Mcclendon (then Bonds’ teammate) and plenty of others have said it was a good play. Bonds agreed, telling me many years ago, “If I played any shallower, that ball probably would’ve gotten past me. I had to come over toward my left, then cross-fire it. You can go back and look at the history of the game of baseball and how many guys have thrown guys out in that situation.”
I relayed that quote to Lavalliere at the time, and after a quick laugh, he said, “You know what? Put it this way: It was a throw where he ended up safe. Was it a terrible throw? No, it wasn’t terrible. If it was two feet further to the left, Sid Bream’s out.”
Remember, too, this series of unfortunate events: substitute right fielder Cecil Espy opened the gates to that nightmarish ninth with a questionable play; Gold Glove second baseman Jose Lind then kicked a grounder; Leyland could have stuck with starter Doug Drabek; home plate umpire Randy Marsh (who switched from first base because John Mcsherry fell ill) squeezed closer Stan Belinda; Van Slyke flied out with the bases loaded in the seventh; Orlando Merced got thrown out at home in the eighth; and Leyland stuck with his platoon system, starting lefties Merced, Lavalliere and Alex Cole, even though they’d gone a combined 4 for 21 against John Smoltz in Games 1 and 4, and that meant meant Mcclendon, Gary Redus and Don Slaught sat, even though they were a collective .487 in the series.
We know what happened next. Bonds left. The Pirates were cursed. They went 20 years without a winning season. What cannot be disputed is that Bonds was an alltime great Pirate. He is the only one to win multiple MVP awards. He should have won three while he was here. He lost out to Terry Pendleton in 1992 despite having more home runs (25 to 22), more RBIS (116 to 86), more stolen bases (43 to 10), more runs (95 to 94), and a way higher on-base percentage and slugging percentage, plus a Gold Glove.
It would seem the voters held some sort of grudge. So do plenty of Pirates fans.
From a wound that might never heal.