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The Jester’s Quart
March 3, 2006
The Jester’s Quart: In Bed with Barry Bonds
ESPiN opened her eyes,
shaking away a night's sleep and rolling over on her pillow. She watched Barry
as he continued his slumber, dreams of baseball immortality no doubt dancing
through his mind's eye, as usual. And like every other morning, ESPiN began the
day by wondering if the pillows had gotten smaller, or if Barry's head had
swelled since they first met years ago.
Back then, being with Barry was something to boast about. She used to brag about
how he'd see her exclusively. She used to talk about his exploits to all of her
girlfriends until they demanded to hear tales of Barry's greatness at every
lunch date and morning Starbucks run. Occasionally - and this was nothing ESPiN
was proud of, mind you - she would use Barry's image and his fame for her own
profit. This became difficult when she'd turn her ire towards Barry, because
Barry has a knack for drawing such emotions from even the most tempered souls.
His egomania was infuriating. His disdain for certain social settings insulting.
And his particular lack of concern for rules and regulations was disturbing -
especially those he felt unfairly inhibited his growth as a professional.
To tell the truth, there weren't a whole hell of a lot of people who liked
Barry; yet those same people loved hearing about him, and appreciated the
significance of his existence. ESPiN knew that, too. So despite her grumblings
and her moralistic stands and her constant bemoaning of his flaws, she was
always the first one to remind her friends that Barry was hers and that it made
her somewhat more important than if he wasn't.
But this was nothing ESPiN was proud of, mind you.
She rolled on to her back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about the greatest
and worst thing that had ever shared her bed.
And she wondered when he'd leave.
***
That Barry Bonds would have a weekly reality TV show on ESPN shouldn't surprise
anyone, because he's practically had one for the last several years.
SportsCenter replays every home run he hits, and every cantankerous press
conference he gives. The screaming-head newspaper columnist shows debate what
pills he's taking, what drugs he's injecting, and whether he's deserving of the
accolades he receives - and that ultimate honor he could earn with roughly 50
more swings of his bat.
Perhaps no other athlete has captured the imagination of sports fans in as many
different ways as Bonds. We marvel at his athleticism and disapprove of his
artifice. We smile at his accomplishments and scowl at his attitude. We
understand his place in the game's history, but don't understand whether he
deserves it.
At the same time, no other modern-day athlete has encapsulated the tremendous
conflicts in any ESPN interest. He's at once the lead story, the main target,
the worshiped hero, the hated villain, and one of the most sure-fire gate
attractions in professional sports. There's no way to ignore the fact that Bonds
has been very good to ESPN in each of these roles, whether it's as a promotional
tent pole for prime-time baseball games or as a talking point on "PTI."
But there are times when
these traits intersect in a way that leaves ESPN completely red-faced. Like back
in 2001, when Bonds was chasing Mark McGwire's still-fresh single season
home-run record. The taint of steroid abuse had already begun sweeping over
baseball, and the modern home-run records had all but been conceded to
performance-enhanced players. Bonds pursued the home-run record with a fraction
of the national interest that was focused on McGwire and Sammy Sosa back in
1998; perhaps if Barry had cracked 50 homers in any of the 15 years leading up
to his record mark of 73, fans wouldn't have been so quick to assume his power
was born in a lab.
Yet ESPN covered Bonds's assault on the record with the same attention and
overkill as it had the 1998 chase. It broke into coverage on its various
networks to show every Bonds at-bat it could. And while the rest of the media
questioned the validity of his feats, ESPN championed another cause in its
non-stop coverage: the intentional walks teams were giving Bonds, which of
course were bad for business. Leave that steroid stuff to the conspiracy
theorists. Pitchers walking the best slugger in baseball - now THAT'S a story!
Fast forward five years, and ESPN is still in the Barry Bonds Business. This
reality show has already managed to infuriate local media in San Francisco,
including Bruce Jenkins of the San Francisco Chronicle:
"So the Giants willingly climb in bed with a very sleazy concept, and worst of all, Bonds' teammates will be directly affected. They fully understand that Bonds is the show, and without him, they go nowhere. But if you're wearing the Giants uniform and a Bonds-starved ESPN camera crew is cramping your style in the clubhouse, week after week, while not caring one bit about you or anyone else on the team, it's just a little demeaning. They must find it especially appalling that management doesn't give a damn."
How dire is the emotional
situation for the Giants' clubhouse? So dire that a 6-foot-2, 230-pound man, who
previously had shown the kind of humility typically associated with Paris Hilton
ripping up a parking ticket, became a drag-queen version of Paula Abdul for an
"American Idol" spoof at Giants' spring training. One of the Giants slipped up
in an interview later in the day and said it was good to see that Barry could
come down to the other players' level and have some fun.
Someone should probably tell him that Barry was just looking for some footage
for the opening credits of his ESPN show.
***
The real jaw-dropping consequence of the reality project is that reporters who
want one-on-one interviews with Bonds during the season will have to sign
waivers with the show's production company so their interviews can be used on
the show. Any reporter who refuses would not have the honor of interviewing Mr.
Bonds in a mano-y-mano setting.
So, evidently, along with being in the Business of Barry Bonds, ESPN is now in
the business of repressing First Amendment rights.
The network was quick to
save face after this news broke. When the AP story ran on ESPN.com, it included
this caveat:
"ESPN Original Entertainment, an entity separate from ESPN's news operation, is working with Bonds for a behind-the-scenes look at his quest for baseball's all-time home-run record. ESPN said Friday its reporters would not sign the waiver."
Well, of course they wouldn't; why should any reporter on
ESPN think he or she is going to get something more substantial than what the
multiple cameras will get from Barry for the reality show? And would it be in
ESPN's best interests for Pedro Gomez to break news before it appears on a
primetime edition of "American Barry" or whatever it's called?
Perhaps the most pathetic thing about the disclaimer above is the part about
ESPN's news operations and ESPN Original Entertainment being separate entities.
It's amazing how a network that's redefined corporate synergy can now claim
media independence. I'm pretty sure "Season on the Brink" and that Dale
Earnhardt movie were mentioned on ESPNews a few times, weren't they?
***
Back in bed, ESPiN tossed and turned, careful not to wake up Barry as he
continued his peaceful slumber. Her mind flooded with contradictions, her nerves
wracked with guilt. She remembered Vince Doria, a senior vice president and
director of news, claiming that he and his organization "want to be thought of,
first and foremost, as objective journalists." Then she recalled George Solomon,
the man hired to keep those journalists objective, offering this advice: "My
suggestion to ESPN would have been what I'd tell NBC News if it wanted to do a
reality show with Donald Rumsfeld: 'Don't.'"
Her eyes wandered to the alarm clock, which ticked another minute ahead. ESPiN
said a silent prayer for it to speed up.
"It'll all end one day," she thought. "Either he breaks a damn record or he
breaks his damn leg. It'll all end one day, and then I can get on with my life."
She turned back to Barry as he slept. ESPiN knew it would be just a matter of
time until the cameramen and the boom ops and the directors crashed into the
room for another day chronicling Barry's life. He'll soon leave the bed, leave
the house and head to the park; one day, when the final chapter of his story is
written, she knew he wouldn't come back.
Well, until he gets his plaque, that is.
ESPiN didn't seem to mind. As long as she had a bed this large, she was
confident there'd always be someone new to share it with.
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Published on the web and www.SportsFanMagazine.com since 1997, "The Jester's Quart" is a weekly satirical look at sports, pop culture and why NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman is a jackass. Columnist Greg Wyshynski is the Senior Editor for SportsFan Magazine in Washington DC, and the Senior Sports Editor for The Connection Newspapers of Northern Virginia. His book "Glow Pucks and 10-Cent Beer: The 101 Worst Ideas in Sports History" will be published in April 2006. Email Wyshynski at jestersquart@hotmail.com.
