Bonds' Talent Worthy of Record Books

As the 2001 baseball regular season wound to a close, the sheer number of compelling storylines was enough to give a sportswriter tendonitis. The National League East race featured the Braves and Phillies stumbling to an exciting finish. The D-Backs held off the Giants by matching them win-for-win, and the Mariners chased the 1906 Cubs' all-time win record.

But all this activity was virtually overshadowed by the unprecedented number of individual records and milestones smashed this year. Mark McGwire's season home run came crashing down at the feet of Barry Bonds. Rickey Henderson finally scored as many runs as all-time leader Ty Cobb. Japanese Major Leaguer Tuffy Rhodes challenged the country's home run record previously held by Sadaharu Oh.

With all these records coming down, the situation begs the question: what happens if the wrong player breaks the record?

In 1998, McGwire and Sammy Sosa filled constant ESPN cut-aways with mammoth blasts that served as hammers chipping away at Roger Maris's 37-year homer record. Fans of all ages jumped on the bandwagon, as McGwire and Sosa seemed destined to give Americans heroes in a time when some fans still warily accepted post-1994 player's strike baseball.

Though all but the most traditional baseball fans wanted a new home run champion, the public was split as to whom they craved to hit number 62. McGwire was the popular choice, as enthusiasts loved his respect for the coveted record as well as his humbleness in chasing it. He even hugged the members of the Maris family after crushing his 62nd bomb into left center.

Sosa played Andy Richter to McGwire's Conan O'Brien. Smiling, laughing, repeating that baseball had simply been good to him, Sosa came along for the ride. But most opinion polls, particularly those hosted by espn.com, showed the majority of fans rooting for Big Mac to break the record.

When he did, the baseball public was happy. McGwire was an American with a sense of history, who sort of "aw-shucks'ed" it into the record books. Baseball had a hero.

But what if Sosa had broken the record? How happy would fans have been? Sosa seemed like the safe hero, content to hang in the background. Sosa isn't American. He probably has never talked to Maris's family. He doesn't speak intelligible English. The undercurrent of racism was only overshadowed by resounded ethnocentrism. It seems, according to these fans, the right man carried the home run torch. Baseball lucked out.

This year, baseball wasn't so lucky. While Big Mac struggled with tendonitis, Bonds squashed Mark's three-year-old record like King Kong Bundy to Little Tokyo in Wrestlemania II. Even as Bonds chased the mark, fan interest remained muted. Fans were interested that he hit 73, but that was about it.

The real problem was that Bonds is not McGwire. As likeable as McGwire is, Bonds is equally as abrasive. Judging by the disinterest of fans around America, Barry just didn't capture their hearts as Mark did. Most likely, people just hated Bonds and didn't want to stand by to watch him step on the throats of baseball's legends. According to those same fans that desperately rooted for McGwire over Sosa, the wrong guy broke the record.

This scenario has played out over and over on the stage inhabited by America's pastime.

For those who lived through Maris vs. Mantle (or for those of us who have seen 61*), Americans faced the same scenario. Mantle was the handsome, loveable slugger who hit titanic blasts, while Maris seemed to have stolen the record from him. His plight as the hated record holder ruined Maris's career.

The same ethnocentrism that haunted Sosa also hurt Osaka Kintetsu Buffalo Tuffy Rhodes. Stuck on the single-season mark of 50 homers, Japanese pitchers refused to pitch to Rhodes during his final three games. They call it respect, as in they don't want to dishonor the previous record holder. But it's more like disrespect and racism. According to those Japanese fans that supported such action, because Rhodes is a gaijin (foreigner), he is not worthy of the record. If he had clocked his 51st homer, the wrong guy would've held the record.

In Henderson's case, he snatched the runs record from an equally strange and vengeful man, Ty Cobb. The mark changed hands from one jerk to another.

Each of these examples holds one major flaw: some people think that one has to be worthy enough to hold a record such as homers in a season or all-time runs.

This bigotry is not just ridiculous but also unfounded.

First of all, who are we to judge how worthy a player is to hold a record? It's not our place to choose that an American should hold the home run record, nor it is our place to curse a jerk for taking a record from our former hero.

If Barry Bonds, who nearly carried his team to the postseason, hit 73 homers, he is worthy.

The only qualification for breaking a record is the talent to do so. It's our problem if we don't like him.

Furthermore, fans who clearly get sentimental and upset when a record is broken just miss the point. Records, as the cliché goes, are made to be broken. Setting new standards doesn't dilute the game. It strengthens it. What fun would life be if we spent our lives trying to achieve an impossible and unreachable goal?

That the game of baseball is evolving only points to it making progress. The breaking of records is just a symbol of baseball's progress.

The next time a player breaks a record, don't shout at the TV or rant about the baseball lore. Instead, stand in respect for a talented player and an evolving game.