Bonding with the record books

So Barry Bonds, forever on our sports pages chasing 714, will forever be on our minds at 715. We just can't escape his melodramatic existence or melon-shaped head, and this was never more apparent than Sunday afternoon after 2.14pm. The 41-year-old slugger surfaced in the fourth inning to smack a 445-foot homer at AT&T Park to not only bump The Babe down the home run list, but further smudge the record books.

If you're a Giants fan it doesn't get much better. Just when you couldn't get enough Barry at 714, he trumped Ruth’s record to create a new benchmark; 715-and-counting—a new "magic" number—a new answer to a Trivial Pursuit question. But it's also a number that leaves a sour taste in the mouth—one that doesn't elicit the joy or great respect it should. It’s a number with so much doubt it barely feels like a milestone.

After all, a record is more than a numerical figure; it's a significant moment in time, an affirmation of achievement and most importantly, the fulfillment of someone’s dream. On Sunday afternoon we should have all been celebrating a new number for these reasons. Instead we're left with emptiness. We’re left wondering about the future of the game and how it will deal with the predicament Bonds has helped build—“tainted numbers”.



Who really knows what these home runs mean to the combative Bonds? If he apologised would it make it easier? If he retired now, preserving at least Hank Aaron's record, would it make it alright?

The build up to today has been arduous. There have been so many questions around Bonds; it's hard to know what to think anymore. Perhaps if we just leave Barry be, miring in his own ugly circumstance, we can move on. Perhaps the asterisk next to 715-and-still-counting will be punishment enough. Perhaps by clinging to the numbers we hold dear, the real records won’t fade and the great memories will always prevail.

No need to go Jurassic

Scoring the No.1 draft pick this week saved the Toronto Raptors from NBA extinction. Let's face it, they were quickly going the way of the dodo, the Tasmanian tiger or more precisely, the dinosaur. Suddenly, as if Sam Neil’s Dr. Grant was sent to investigate the state of the Raptors on Basketball Island, the club made a vital discovery; luck.

The question is, will general manager, Bryan Colangelo, use his good fortune wisely or squander it on an Italian giant nobody's heard of?

Andrea Bargnani, a 7-foot centre with Benetton Treviso of the EuroLeague, is a name being thrown around Toronto with the indifference of a Raptors skip pass. The spaghetti-limbed Italian, who averages 11 points and six rebounds a game, has oddly been touted by Colangelo as the team's top prospect.

While the GM has big Converse sneakers in his eyes, maybe he should ponder the "playmaker" position first. By this I mean the guy who can change a game—something the raptors don’t have—be it with a pass, shot or just flat out hustle. The Raptors desperately lack the latter.

Mike James and Morris Peterson have speed and style, but not the composure to lead the team. James' sharp shooting together with Peterson's steal and dunk routine will draw fans in the interim, but another 27-55 season should promptly end that attraction. And though Toronto's forwards are tough and active they're not exactly crafty, so how can more physical presence help this squad?

What the Raps need is a Larry Legend, an Earvin Magic, a Short Shorts Stockton, a Big Game James, a Joe D--you get my point. That a No. 1 pick has physical potential is a given, but hustle and leadership are not. So when handed a rare opportunity to improve their entire ball club—not just make it taller—you assume Toronto’s management will take it. Instead, June 28th’s draft day has a Sam Bowie incident written all over it.

With all-rounders such as Gonzaga's Adam Morrison, Duke’s J.J. Reddick and Washington's Brandon Roy in the draft mix, surely the Raptors are tossing and turning at night more than they’re letting on. After all, here’s a chance for a nightmare team to make a dream selection. Ok, so there's no Larry or Earvin, but if you're Colangelo you have to at least try for the next best think right?