Bmr31 Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 http://proxy.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=1616162 Just goes to show you, even if it appears that someone is on top of the world, life can be very difficult. I actually respect Bonds more than ever, now. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Steff Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 BMR, I can't get to it. Would you mind copying & pasting? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bmr31 Posted September 15, 2003 Author Share Posted September 15, 2003 Everything hurts. "I've played most of the season with a hamstring tear," Barry Bonds says. "My knees ache. My hands are done. Two bulging disks. My legs don't work. I make a strong throw, I feel it, all over, the rest of the game. Willie and my dad always said the thing that knocked them out of baseball would knock me out, too -- when the pain became too much." The pain has become too much. "Losing Dad was the worst thing in the world," Bonds says. "I haven't slept in a month. My mind is always racing. I can't concentrate. What's been happening in baseball the past month? I have no idea. I'm just taking care of Mom, doing all the things Dad said he wanted done at the end. I'm drained. I'm constantly thinking, thinking. It's just too overwhelming. I'm devastated. I spend all my time just trying not to have a nervous breakdown." He is talking about quitting. "I'm done," Bonds says. "The young players, it's their turn. I had my fun, and I keep screwing up and coming back. What for? Why bother? I can't do this anymore. I've already told the guys: a few more games, and I'm gone. I'm day-to-day, man. None of those records mean anything to me. My godfather and my father are the only reason I played, for their approval. I admired the rest of them -- Hank, Babe, Ted -- but I wasn't fighting for their approval. I've always played for the acceptance of my godfather and father. That's it. And now my father's gone." “ I'm done. The young players, it's their turn. I had my fun, and I keep screwing up and coming back. What for? Why bother? I can't do this anymore. I've already told the guys: a few more games, and I'm gone. I'm day-to-day, man. ” — Barry Bonds His voice, cracking throughout, finally gives up here, done fighting. Barry Bonds, so impenetrable, so defiant, so very strong, is on the verge of tears. He is slumped in a chair in front of his locker, and he stays quiet for 10 ... 20 ... 30 seconds, the silence helping keep down what might bubble over with a nudge from but one more syllable. Bonds stares straight ahead in the completely vacant visitors clubhouse in San Diego, suddenly avoiding eye contact. He doesn't like revealing himself because, as he explained politely but firmly at this conversation's start, "my career is an open book, but my life is not." Finally, after a full minute of silence, Bonds rubs a hand slowly over his weary face, sniffles and looks up at the clock through glassy, bloodshot eyes. He hasn't stretched. He took fewer than five minutes' worth of swings during batting practice. He tried to take a nap on the trainer's table, with the aid of NyQuil, but failed miserably. That, and a giant cup of straight black coffee, is the extent of his pregame preparation. And now it is six minutes to game time. Big exhale. "Gotta work," Bonds says. With that, he rises with a groan, slides a cap over the gray stubble on his shaved head, slings a bat over his shoulder and trudges alone through the dark tunnel that leads to all the lights. The best baseball player of this generation is tired, burdened, wounded, tortured, lonely, profoundly sad and pretty close to physically and mentally broken. Barry Bonds Left Field San Francisco Giants Profile 2003 SEASON STATISTICS GM HR RBI R SB AVG 118 41 83 102 7 .341 May God have mercy on tonight's pitcher. *** Bobby Bonds hand-me-downed the baseball chromosome to his boy Barry like a family heirloom. And a holy man named Willie Mays has held the hand of his godson since the crib, making the boy baseball royalty. The soundtrack to Barry's life, from the very beginning, even while he was still in his cheering mother's womb, was always applause. It was his birthright, as was greatness. He wasn't going to be like the rest of us. Had no chance. Consider his formal title within the family's two branches: Bobby, a very good player, gave his boy the "son," but it was Willie, the legend, whose link bestowed the "god." So now Barry gets joking phone calls from Bill Cosby. He goes backstage at a concert, and watches Elton John fall to his knees and sing "MVP" while bowing at his feet. He gets a private audience with Muhammad Ali because, well, Ali wants to meet him, too. So, yeah, Barry developed an ego, which is something you'll find just about anywhere you find greatness. But until now he has always had two hard-to-impress teachers nearby to remind him just how bad his diapers used to smell. Funny, isn't it? How life can be as circular as a baseball sometimes? The son grew up admiring the work of the father and godfather, but over the past two decades the father and godfather ended up admiring the son. The family business had been placed in such good hands. It was, rather literally, booming. But the two retired bosses would not share their pride with their only employee. Because they knew Barry always did his best work when feeling underappreciated. So the old men always rode Barry hard, even as he won an unprecedented five MVP awards, demanding more, always more, because Barry responds to being pushed better than you can imagine, and better than they ever did. They taught him to pretend it was an 0-2 count even when it was 3-1, to pretend he was 0-for-4 even when he had four hits, and he still plays pretend at the very highest level of professional sports. All this make-believe sounds childish, coming from the world's best hitter as he sits in the dugout trying to explain his excellence as an adult, but you should see the genuine delight stretch across Barry's face as he talks about it, the kid in him coming out to play again, just as it does when he tries to articulate why the most fun he has in the game is facing John Smoltz. Seems Smoltz is the only pitcher with the audacity to talk trash to Bonds before games. He'll loudly promise to strike Bonds out, and then actually do it sometimes, which leads to Smoltz laughing at Bonds right on the mound and Bonds trying to hide from the dugout TV cameras while giving Smoltz the finger. This child's learned reverence for the opponent and the craft is what Barry still brings to the plate with him today, every single time, a profound respect for the challenge in front of him, and by extension a profound respect for the teachers who showed him how to respect like that. But one of them is now dead. "Lost my coach," Barry says. "The best coach in the world." Reverence. That's what he brings to that batter's box. Not the arrogance that gets him into trouble sometimes. Not there, not ever. That place is a sacred cathedral, and not just because, upon his appearance, the catcher kneels down and very often lapses into prayer. Confidence, yes. In that batter's box, Bonds might be the most confident person on this or any other planet. Asked in June for the greatest reason for his success, Bonds bypassed all his physical skills (like that unique ability he has to immediately identify where, what and how fast a pitch will be as soon as it leaves a pitcher's hand) and settled instead on "confidence." Asked the same question again now, after his father's death, and he changes his answer to "My dad and Willie." He has fresh perspective after having spent so many days beside his father's sick bed, tearfully thanking him for giving so much. Bobby and Willie helped build that boy's confidence, a brick at a time, by making him fight for their approval while everyone else gave theirs so easily. And then they stood back in open-mouthed awe, marveling at the monument they had created as Barry's confidence kept growing with every success he stacked atop it. It was our worship, not unlike Elton's, that inflated and distorted that confidence cartoonishly into the arrogance many see in other parts of his personality. You will not find any of that, not one ounce, in his approach to each at-bat. Immediately afterward, maybe, when he celebrates with a matador's flourish, gazing at the ball's majestic flight as if it were art work (well, it is, isn't it?), as impressed as the rest of us by the quality of his work. But you don't see any of this in his approach. "I never, ever disrespect the challenge," Barry says. "I make them all Randy Johnson." This is not clich½speak. He says it too often, too consistently, in response to too many different questions, for it not to be true. Ask him if he has ever noticed fear in the body language of a pitcher facing him, and he crinkles his face as if you'd asked to borrow his underwear. "Never, ever, ever," he says. He never, ever, ever has any idea if he has had spectacular success or failed miserably against a pitcher, doesn't know the history, because they all become the same to him upon approach, every bit as good as he is right up until the perfect sound of his bat says they most certainly are not. Bonds is genuinely humble in that batter's box, the place he probably has less reason to be humble than anyone else in the world. It's everywhere else that tends to be the problem. For us, not him. Bonds is great, and he knows he's great, and he doesn't mind letting you know he's great, too, and that has always been his biggest crime in a Sports America that prefers humility from its athletes, even if it is false, to arrogance, even if it is truth. Bonds is better at what he does for a living than almost all of us are at anything we do, so players asking him for his secret shouldn't be put off, as they invariably are, when he answers, "Talent. My talent is different. You can't teach that. You don't have it. There's no secret. I'm good." He isn't being a jerk. Really. What he's being is honest, and in a way that most people aren't. There are more delicate ways to say this, obviously, but Bonds is not delicate, so when you tell him people don't want to hear it like that, he interrupts with his ultimate argument-ender. "But it's the truth," he says. He spits out a laugh. "The Bible says speak the truth," he says. "It doesn't say anything about you having to like what I say." “ The rest of us play in the major leagues. He's at another level on a planet with a name none of us even know how to pronounce. ” — Rich Aurilia Bonds has the vision, observational skills and clarity of a genius. He just isn't wasting it on remembering what some guy threw him in a 2-1 count in 1995. He'll see struggling teammate Rich Aurilia watching tape for a week, finally shout, "You still don't know what you're doing wrong yet, Rich?" then take him to the batting cage to make the illuminating corrections in seconds. That's why an awed Aurilia says, "The rest of us play in the major leagues. He's at another level on a planet with a name none of us even know how to pronounce." But there remains one man in Bonds' life, just one now, who does not impress quite so easily -- the genius who taught the genius. "The doctors didn't know how my father was still alive, with cancer in his kidney, lungs, two tumors in his brain and open-heart surgery, but he stayed around long enough to tell me everything at the end -- how much he loved me, how proud he was," Barry says. "Everything poured out. I wouldn't wish this on anybody, but the one thing that makes it better -- better, not easier -- is that I was there at the end. I didn't leave his side. I have my dad's approval. Now it's just Willie I'm after. It's time to get Willie's. And Willie won't let me rest, man. He doesn't want to give it to me. He's afraid of the same thing I am -- that I'll quit on the spot." Bonds isn't quitting the game. What he's doing is taking a bat to it, one historic whack at a time. Retirement? That's just the frailty and fatigue talking after a terribly long season. He likes the money too much, and the challenges. Bonds admits as much now. He says he plans to play out the final two years of his contract (and collect $36M), at least. But throw the retirement talk into the maw of the multiheaded beast he's fighting now -- his father's death, the feds busting down the door at his strength coach's house in search of who knows what, the perpetual tension with the media, the chasing of his first championship at 39 -- and what you've unleashed is a gladiator who would make Maximus wet his pants. You know what Jim Leyland used to say? That Bonds wasn't nearly as good a player when he was calm. That Bonds needed anger, tension and chaos swirling around him to summon the camera-lens clarity that would bring that baseball into just the right focus. Poisonous journalists, jealous peers, head-hunting pitchers, booing fans, contract issues, Jeff Kent, manufactured slights -- they've all worked together over the years to turn the chalked confines of that batter's box into a go-to-hell shell. That's where a career loner like Bonds could always escape to the perfect calm at the storm's center and be all alone with his excellence. He needs the distance. He has, in fact, worked very hard to create it. He wants to be left alone before games, by reporters, by teammates, by everybody, to conserve every ounce of energy for those draining at-bats, when the predator in him must wait patiently for the one decent pitch a night (if that) he'll get from the Randy Johnson his mind faces every time out. Bonds is softer than he was as a jagged youngster, much softer, but his icy reputation and aura help keep away the perpetual superstar tugs (just one more question, just one more signature, just one more picture), and that's perfectly fine with him. Part of the reason his relationship with the media has been so strained is because reporters know that, when engaged, Bonds is one of the most colorful, honest, fascinating interviews in sports. But he opts not to be engaged very often because he knows the more questions he answers, the more questions he'll get. They need him; he doesn't need them. In his ideal world, he would not waste a syllable of energy speaking that he could instead pour into that first at-bat. "Look at them," he says, gazing over at his teammates. "Playing cards. Eating too much. That's not how my dad taught me to get ready." Distance, tension, friction. Numerically, at least, there is certainly something to be said for Leyland's theory. Take the 73 homers, for example. "A fluke," Bonds says with a smile that could have been like Magic Johnson's if he had ever cared to use it that way. "A straight freaking accident." Huh? "I don't even remember that year," Bonds says. "My uncle died, my cousin died, my bodyguard died. Death everywhere." The worst year of his life off the diamond was not only his best on it, but the best of anyone ever. And now here he finds himself again, burying his father, handling the funeral arrangements, caring for his grieving mother ... and still hitting the baseball as if it had done something bad to him. There are times he hears his old man's voice in leftfield, in the on-deck circle, on the jog back to the dugout after outs. Even in a stadium full of people, baseball gives a man a lot of alone time. Too much. But Barry's numbers? The sicker his dad became and the faster the cancer spread and the more worried the son would get, the more those pinball numbers that mathematically, gravitationally, chronologically, had to go down would somehow shoot back up. His slugging average rocketed near the place it had been when he was hitting 73 homers; his on-base percentage flew right past it. How the hell do you explain that? At the end of his father's life, Barry was sleeping next to Bobby's bed every night, helping him shower, pushing him around with the wheelchair and oxygen tanks, asking him about last wishes, taking pictures with him and the grandchildren for the final scrapbook, begging him to repeat everything he had ever taught him on videotape even though Bobby didn't have the strength to say but a few words at a time. And then he would do things like get to the park late and hit a walk-off homer against Atlanta's Ray King, who hadn't allowed a homer, triple or even a double to a lefty all season. And then, a couple of nights later, facing a different pitcher, empty the field yet again. Two walk-off homers in three days. "It's a joke, man," says Benito Santiago, who's seen a lot of baseball at 38. "The rest of us should spend all our time in the dugout bowing to him." One of his first swings after his bereavement? A homer off the actual Randy Johnson, not some imagined one. Barry, alternately hobbled and scared and finally grieving, had been spending the season's second half terrified of receiving a between-innings phone call that would tell him his father was dead, all the while hitting an absurd .402, getting on base safely a flabbergasting 61 percent of the time and slugging at roughly the same Ruthian clip (.814) he did in 2001. At his weakest in body and spirit, hurting in every way, between visits to the hospital for his father's sickness and for his own exhaustion, Bonds hasn't merely been better than everyone else in his sport, but rather better than everyone else in his sport's history. At 39, mind you. This kind of greatness, at this age, is unprecedented in major American sports. You will find others this age who were very good, yes, but you will find not a one with the strength to ignore the body's betrayals and remain the very best. You saw what this age did to Michael Jordan, but Bonds remains Jordan in his prime. There's no one in major American sports as good at what they do as Bonds presently is at baseball. Not Shaq, not Tiger, not Serena. He is Babe Ruth, only better. Ruth was only playing against guys as white as that baseball. He never faced half of the nationalities and colors pitching in this year's All-Star Game. So the uniform that today's Ruth puts on every day acts as reminder, redundancy and God's honest truth: Barry Bonds, Giant. "My dad programmed me," Barry says. "Since I was a kid, I had to do more push-ups than my brother if I wanted ice cream. Give me challenges. You're only going to bring out the best in me." Yeah, challenge him! That's what Giants manager Felipe Alou is saying when he accuses opposing pitchers of cowardice for walking Bonds. That's what booing fans in home and visiting parks alike are saying when another Bonds at-bat ends without him getting to swing even once. That's what Bonds himself is welcoming when he smiles and says, "Go ahead. Shift everyone over to the right side of the field. Infielders, outfielders, coaches. Dump your whole dugout over there. I'll hit it so hard I get it through that right side anyway." It is the greatest spectacle we have in sports today: Barry Bonds, challenged. This is what you get instead: "You walk Barry. Just walk him. You can have first base, Barry. That's your fault for being so good. Sorry." This isn't some nobody talking. It's Greg Maddux. Johnson and Roger Clemens pitch him the same way. Bonds leads baseball in RBI: Respect By Intimidation, the best conceding that their best isn't good enough, giving up one base for free in exchange for Bonds not taking the other three very much against their will. We've never seen anyone pitched to this way. Or, rather, not pitched to this way. There are only two teams in baseball with more intentional walks than Bonds this season, and Bonds is within a couple of each of them. In other words, there is the very good chance that, by the time you reach the end of this sentence, Bonds will have been walked more intentionally than every single team in his sport. Keep in mind, Roger Maris wasn't walked intentionally even once in 1961. "We've never seen anything like this," says Alou, a man who has spent more than half a century in baseball. "None of us. Ever. Barry is much better than you are seeing, much better than he's permitted to be, because pitchers with tremors are too afraid to allow him to be the spectacle he is. At least they threw Willie and Hank strikes. They don't throw this man strikes. Barry is the reincarnation of Ted Williams -- with more power. I have been careful with my words all year because I played with both Willie and Hank, but I can say it now: nobody has ever been better than this guy. He's the best I've ever seen." So now, while grieving the death of his father and still trying to please the only teacher he has left, Bonds goes after his first championship while proving at once that he isn't one of us and he is. He has never been more immortal. Or more human. This article appears in the Sept. 29 issue of ESPN The Magazine. MLB Headlines • Impressive feat for Vlad: Cycle in four ABs • Mariners miss their chance | Athletics don't • Astros sweep dims Cardinals' playoff chances • Braves stop Marlins' surge | Penny back soon • Phils' Wolf not chicken to pitch sick | L.A. wins ESPNs Top Headlines • Brown: Clarett return to Ohio St. still possible • Suspect arrested in Williams sister's death • Rams QB? Martz stays with Bulger • Out of money, WUSA ceases operations • NFL investigating Shanahan's injury deception ESPN.com: HELP | MEDIA KIT | CONTACT US | TOOLS | SITE MAP Copyright ©2003 ESPN Internet Ventures. Terms of Use and Privacy Policy and Safety Information are applicable to this site. Click here for a list of employment op Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Steff Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 Thanks. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bmr31 Posted September 15, 2003 Author Share Posted September 15, 2003 Thanks. You are welcome. I had to read that twice. what a story. Gives me chills and a new found respect for Barry. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Steff Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 You are welcome. I had to read that twice. what a story. Gives me chills and a new found respect for Barry. Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the nicest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bmr31 Posted September 15, 2003 Author Share Posted September 15, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the necest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Wow im jealous. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SoxFanForever Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 That is pretty awesome Steff. Wish I had your connections Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Nokona Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 Wow. That was THE greatest article i have ever read. And that folks, is why he's my hero. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bmr31 Posted September 15, 2003 Author Share Posted September 15, 2003 Wow. That was THE greatest article i have ever read. And that folks, is why he's my hero. I agree and props needs to go to the writer too. That was a great article on a great subject. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chisoxrd5 Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the nicest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Wow Great Story Steff!!! That is really cool! How did you meet him in the first place? Just at the bar that night or before that? I feel like a three year old asking all these questions!! lol... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Steff Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 With a little help from some friends, I was in the right place at the right time. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chisoxrd5 Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 With a little help from some friends, I was in the right place at the right time. AHHH....I see LOL...anyways Great Article BMR way to ruin the excitement i couldve had when opening up my ESPN Magazine!! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
southsider2k5 Posted September 15, 2003 Share Posted September 15, 2003 And that article is the reason I admire Bonds so much. He is who he is. He isn't some BS made to sell Pepsi or Nikes or some crap. He is himself and is perfectly happy doing it. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bighurt52235 Posted September 16, 2003 Share Posted September 16, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the nicest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Ray as in Ray Durham? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SoxFan1 Posted September 16, 2003 Share Posted September 16, 2003 I have respected Barry as a player and as a person ever since I heard of him when I was a wee little 7 year old (6 years ago). Tell me, how would you feel to be the best player in baseball and on top of that be the most hated player in baseball? I find it sad that people had to warm up to him after the death of his father. It just shows how jealousy and envy can make someone turn on someone else so quickly. His life is a living hell right now. Another sad thing is that people were saying that he's gonna suck now cuz his dad died. That is such an ignorant and stupid comment to say about someone. Imagine if you were a sports star and your father died and someone said now your gonna suck cuz hes not here anymore. Its a damn f***ing shame! Im directing this to anyone here, but there a lot of Barry Haters on this board and its not right. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Rex Hudler Posted September 16, 2003 Share Posted September 16, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the necest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Wow im jealous. You want to be hugged by Barry? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Nokona Posted September 16, 2003 Share Posted September 16, 2003 Ummm..Yes. Imagine being able to say you talked to him, let alone he hugged you. Oh and btw Number 655 just landed somewhere and it wasn't in play. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Steff Posted September 16, 2003 Share Posted September 16, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the nicest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Ray as in Ray Durham? Yes. I've been fortunate enough to have him and his wonderful wife Crystal as my friends for more than 7 years now. Awesome people. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bmr31 Posted September 16, 2003 Author Share Posted September 16, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the necest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Wow im jealous. You want to be hugged by Barry? Sure. Im not into boys, but id be more than honored to be hugged by BB....... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest hotsoxchick1 Posted September 16, 2003 Share Posted September 16, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the necest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Wow im jealous. You want to be hugged by Barry? Sure. Im not into boys, but id be more than honored to be hugged by BB....... dont lie bmr.. your into boys.....come on out already and be done with it... ok.....geez us..... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bmr31 Posted September 16, 2003 Author Share Posted September 16, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the necest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Wow im jealous. You want to be hugged by Barry? Sure. Im not into boys, but id be more than honored to be hugged by BB....... dont lie bmr.. your into boys.....come on out already and be done with it... ok.....geez us..... Well Neil cotts is cute, but i wouldnt want to DO him lol........ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest hotsoxchick1 Posted September 16, 2003 Share Posted September 16, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the necest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Wow im jealous. You want to be hugged by Barry? Sure. Im not into boys, but id be more than honored to be hugged by BB....... dont lie bmr.. your into boys.....come on out already and be done with it... ok.....geez us..... Well Neil cotts is cute, but i wouldnt want to DO him lol........ ...yeah you would.. you said so in another conversation.....i remember these things... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bighurt52235 Posted September 16, 2003 Share Posted September 16, 2003 Ray as in Ray Durham? Yes. I've been fortunate enough to have him and his wonderful wife Crystal as my friends for more than 7 years now. Awesome people. Holy s***! Who else do you know? The only person I know was a backup catcher for the Angels, Rockies, Giants, and Marlins. Steve Decker, is his name. His playing career was never much, but now he is the Fresno Grizzlies hitting coach, and appears that he will manage in the show some day. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bmr31 Posted September 16, 2003 Author Share Posted September 16, 2003 Few tears here. I don't know if I told this story before and I really hope I don't sound arrogant or whatever. And if I do.. oh well. But this year when the Giants were playing the Sox I went out for a few drinks with the guys I know. We were sitting outside at Melvin B's. I was in conversation with Ray and Barry walks up. I had a smile on my face like a 2 year old. To be near him, you can't help but be in awe. I met him 2 years ago on the road and while I saw him 3 nights in a row and he knew my name then I never imagined he'd remember me. He walked up, made the rounds saying hi to several of the guys and when he got to our table he said hi to me, by name, and gave me a half hug. It was unreal. The guy is the necest guy and has the biggest heart when a microphone or tv camera isn't shoved in his face. It's a shame people say such bad things about him. Wow im jealous. You want to be hugged by Barry? Sure. Im not into boys, but id be more than honored to be hugged by BB....... dont lie bmr.. your into boys.....come on out already and be done with it... ok.....geez us..... Well Neil cotts is cute, but i wouldnt want to DO him lol........ ...yeah you would.. you said so in another conversation.....i remember these things... Yeah right. but.............. The village people were pretty cool........... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.