Frank

After we read Barry Bonds* a sideshow - not history - at Fenway Park in class this week, Mrs. Benson asked the million dollar question in regard to Mr. Bonds: "Why did he need to take steroids?"

It's perhaps the most loaded question surrounding Bonds, yet you hardly ever hear it asked. I suppose the main reason is that he hasn't actually been caught. But sports writers have speculated on the subject enough that the question might has well be asked, even if hypothetically.

As we discussed in class, Bonds has become the poster child for the steroid era by default because he's taken over the most hallowed record in sports. Unlike other players who've been caught using performance enhancing drugs, Bonds was an amazing player even before he bulked. In 1990, at 25, he hit 33 home runs for the Pittsburgh Pirates, drove in 114 runs, stole 52 bases and batted .301 on his way to winning his first MVP award. Even then, it was clear that he was a future Hall of Famer.

So, why did he feel the need to, supposedly use performance-enhancing substances?

Personally, I feel two factors came into play. 1) His fathers - former Big Leaguer Bobby Bonds and his godfather, Hall of Famer Willie Mays - and 2) his poor postseason performances early in his career.

Bobby Bonds wasn't a great player, but he was a Major Leaguer nonetheless and Barry certainly felt pressure to live up to his father's career and surpass it, considering the advantages that come with having a father in the Big Leagues. It didn't take long for Barry to do that, finishing the 1996 season two home runs ahead of his father's career tally. Every home run after 1996 could have been icing on the cake for Barry. Could have, that is, if not for his relationship with Mays.

Mays was like a second father to Barry. However, unlike Bobby, Mays went down as one of the greatest all-around players in history. When he was just 24, he hit 51 home runs, drove in 127 runs, stole 24 bases and batted .319. He won his first MVP the year before. By the time his career was over, Mays had amassed 660 home runs - the third highest total in Major League history at the time of his retirement.

There must have been a drive in Barry to live up to Mays, too, and even after he'd passed his father's home run total, he was only halfway to reaching his godfather's.

The next four seasons after 1996, Bonds had great home runs seasons (40, 37, 34, 49), putting him at 494 for his career at age 35. But at that pace, it would be four more seasons before he matched Mays' mark, and that's assuming he could retain that pace into his late-30s. In Barry's mind, he must have felt he needed to step it up a notch.

Step it up a notch, Barry did, blasting a MLB record 73 home runs in 2001. By the end of the 2003 season, he was just two home runs shy of Mays. What's happened since, whether we like it or not, is history.

But allow me to go back in time, once more, to Barry's first MVP season.

After posting phenomenal regular season numbers en route to the NL MVP in 1990, Bonds had a putrid postseason for the Pirates, batting .167 with no home runs and one RBI in six games. He was only worse the 1991 playoffs, hitting .148 with no home runs or RBI in seven games. Barry won his second MVP in 1992, but his postseason numbers - .261 average, one homer and two RBI - still weren't MVP-quality.

He didn't reach the playoffs again until 1997 with the Giants, but his numbers didn't improve with age. Instead, he hit .250 with two RBI. And in his next postseason appearance, in 2000, he hit .176 with one RBI. At that point in his career, Barry had played in 27 playoff games, hit just one postseason home run, and never advanced past the first round. Barry's godfather, though, played in a World Series his rookie year and won the World Series in his third season (his MVP season).

Again, Barry must have felt lost in Mays' shadow. Hitting 73 homers in 2001 was nice, but he wanted to prove himself in the postseason, too. So, he pushed himself harder and led the Giants to the World Series in 2002, hitting .356 with eight home runs and 16 RBI in 17 games.

Do these factors excuse Barry for sacrificing the sanctity of the game (if he did, in fact, use performance-enhancing substances)? Of course not. However, there's no telling what the psycological effects of having to live up to his father and grandfather and prove himself in the playoffs were for Barry Bonds. We may never know. As for me, I think they pushed him over the edge.