There's the Truth That They Can't See

Instead of writing about subjects where there is a shred of doubt as to their vitality, I will instead stick to those where a pulse is available for confirmation.

In case you didn't happen to watch television, read a newspaper, scour the internet, listen to the radio, or talk to another human being in the last 24 hours, it may be news to you that major-league home run king (it pains me to even write that) Barry Bonds was indicted yesterday in the Northern District of California on four counts of perjury and one count of obstruction of justice connected with his 2003 testimony to the grand jury investigating the operations of the infamous Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative or BALCO.

George Vecsey (Peter's brother) has a timely column contrasting the decisions and actions of Bonds and Jason Giambi in their testimony before the BALCO grand jury. Much like a child that continually states "You can't see me" when he is standing in plain view, it seems amazing that Bonds would somehow believe that his steadfast denials of impropriety and wrongdoing could shield him from the consequences of the BALCO investigation and former Senator George Mitchell's steroid inquiry, but I wasn't shocked by the news of the indictment yesterday, and perhaps that is the worst news of all.

As sports fans, after enduring years and years of damning revelations concerning the unwise, evasive, and downright illegal decisions of the athletes we shamefully elevate to positions of honor, nothing is a surprise anymore.

• Ben Johnson's gold medal in the 100 meters is stripped by the International Olympic Committee after a positive drug test following the Seoul Games?
• Floyd Landis wins the first post-Armstrong Tour de France in stunning fashion?
• Marion Jones dominates the Sydney Games?
• Barry Bonds goes from a slender, five-tool, first ballot Hall of Famer to a hulking behemoth that shatters the two most hallowed records in the game of baseball?

We have become so jaded as this point that each and every dominant performance that should be greeted with praise and admiration for the skill and dedication shown by the athlete is instead met with whispers and allegations of what must surely be looking beneath the surface.

Vecsey is dead-on when he voices his dislike of the fact that baseball fans everywhere must somehow begin rooting for a "clean" A-Rod to break Bonds' record in what will amount to a redemption of the record books from the grasp of the unclean to the property of those who accomplish their goals in a manner worthy of admiration. As much as I loath Bonds and everything that he represents, it's going to be difficult to support Rodriguez's quest to place himself at the summit of baseball's all-time homerun list.

Can we not just convince Hammerin' Hank to come back for eight more homers?