Without comment, the words of a couple of California sports writers on the departure of Barry “Cheater” Bonds from San Francisco:
Rick Hurd, Contra Costa Times:
“Bonds has overstayed his welcome with the Giants, a fact made perfectly clear by (Giants owner Peter) Magowan’s pink slip and by a clubhouse so tired of Bonds’ antics that one player summed up the final day by saying, “I’d imagine I speak for a lot of guys in here when I say I equate this to the house landing on the Wicked Witch of the East.”
Ailene Voisin, McClatchy Newspapers:
“This was like the going-away party no one really wants to attend. The fans stood when Bonds was introduced, cheered when he trotted to left field, applauded when he grounded out twice, groaned when he barely missed snagging a sinking line drive. They clapped and laughed oh-so-politely at the video presentations, lingered afterward—in vain, it turns out—in hopes Bonds would join his teammates on the field for a postgame romp. Instead, c’est la vie, Bond stood them up big-time. While Barry Zito and the rest of the Giants tossed balls into the still-packed stands, waved and signed autographs, baseball’s all-time leading slugger, who generated the only real excitement when he drove a Jake Peavy pitch to the warning track in his last at-bat, struck out for the parking lot. Just like that he was gone…”
No, I can’t resist one comment: no class ’til the end.