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Barry Bonds Likely Done For Good

It's still hard to fathom how Barry Bonds remains jobless. Looking purely at his stats, here's a guy that OBP'd .480 last year. He got on base half the time he walked up to the plate. Most teams would kill for that. But as Tom Verducci points out today, once the Blue Jays decided not to pursue Bonds, the curtain has likely been drawn on the man.
Now here's the bad news for Bonds: The Toronto Blue Jays, the very definition of that best-case scenario for him, want absolutely nothing to do with Bonds.

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The risks? The possibilities that he poisons the clubhouse, challenges the manager's authority (think he's going to listen to John Gibbons, such as if he asks him to stretch with the team?), demands special treatment, brings media and legal distractions, breaks down physically, turns 43 in July at a time when stars of the Steroid Era are falling off career cliffs, and generally harms whatever team culture an organization has established. As Jays president Paul Godfrey told a Toronto radio station, 680 News, back in March when Jays officials ruled out Bonds after, oh, five minutes of thought, "We all agreed unanimously that Barry Bonds would be a major distraction to the team."



Ah yes, lest I forget, Bonds is more than just stats. He's viewed as trouble, a cancer, an aging, over-priced former superstar who despite what he would be worth at the plate, just isn't worth the risk involved. I once opined that Bonds would be fit to end his career in the AL as a DH, spending his last days on the bench save for a few plate appearances a game. He became the monolith hitter of all monolith hitters. It seemed only fitting.

Now, it seems not returning to the game is his fate. No one is willing to take a chance on the guy, no matter what he can still bring to the plate. I would have loved to see what Bonds could have pulled off as a guy turning 43 in July. (Steroids aside, he's still a captivating player.)

It's looking like we won't get that chance. And perhaps for us, for baseball, and even for Barry himself, it might be best. Farewell, Mr. Big Head.

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