Well, it's over. Barry Bonds has the all-time career home run record in Major League Baseball.
Anyone who knows me knows that I was amongst the many who said over the past month "Barry's going to break it, I just want him to get it over with, once he's done it baseball can be normal again." It's a jaded, cynical view, I agree; by last weekend it was probably the most prevalent viewpoint in the sports world on Bonds' chase. It's an easy viewpoint to take: Barry is surly, he is surrounded by a cloud of steroids, we get sensory overload for Barry on ESPN, etc etc. Once it was all done we could just watch some goddamn baseball.
Then he hit it.
Son of a bitch, did he hit it.
I looked on, and caught myself smiling. A discussion between my left brain and right brain broke out:
Left Brain: What the hell are you doing?
Right Brain: Smiling. Did you just see that?
Left Brain: I saw it, but it's tainted.
Right Brain: What? Shut up. This is cool.
Left Brain: Come on, he's a ster--
Right Brain: Shut up, bitch!
Left Brain: But--
Right Brain: SHUT. THE. HELL. UP. THIS IS FREAKING COOL.
Left Brain: ...
I'll be damned if I didn't tear up a little bit during the celebration. I'm not a Giants fan, I'm not a Barry Bonds fan; yet there I was, getting all misty. It was absolutely unreal.
So this morning I am happy to say: nevermind the bollocks, here is your home run champion.
All photos from the San Francisco Chronicle at sfgate.com.