Mad Love For the Birthday Boy

One man's opine to the public to wish a superstar a happy birthday and enjoy him for the legendary player that he is already!

Go Shorty,
It's yo' birthday;
We gon party
Like It's yo' birthday;
We gon sip Bacardi
Like it's yo birthday,
An' we gon watch you throw and go yard like its yo' birthday!

All apologies to Barry Lamar Bonds for calling him "Shorty" but the words of Eminem/Dr. Dre protégé, 50-Cent, simply capture the moment, don't they? Poetry! Sheer poetry! In a week where Bonds-haters have piled on him for his comments regarding Babe Ruth, his actions in the final innings against the snake-bitten Diamondbacks showed the world why he is putting Babe Ruth farther and farther in his rear view mirror.

And while we're on the subject let's end the Ruth vs. Bonds argument right now.

Ruth's peers were boys from Georgia and Jersey. Bonds' competition is the world. Japan, the Dominican Republic, Nicaragua and Venezuela are just some of the places where pitchers were born before becoming a stat in Barry's book entitled, Guys I Own. Of course the Babe was able to wear seven World Series rings around his chubby fingers but he didn't have Dusty Baker flipping game balls to his pitchers whenever they departed games, either. Also, Bonds' light speed swing has ripped the fastballs and almost the underpants off guys like Schilling, Smoltz and K-Rod. Ruth and his bourbon-induced hangovers would not have stood a chance against those characters, nor would his physical condition at age 39 ever allow him to accomplish what Bonds did in the ninth inning of Thursday's game.

On his 39th birthday, Barry all but doused the flickering hopes of a Diamondback team who was poised to make its move in the second half with the return of their dynamic duo, Curt Schilling and Randy Johnson. Instead, they could only peek in agony as he hosed speedy Craig Counsell at the plate to prevent the go-ahead run from scoring and spanked Mike "I Pitch like Austin Powers" Myers' first dipsy-doodle, submariner pitch into the sun splashed humanity occupying the left centerfield bleachers of Pac Bell Park. For the win, no less. It's the man's birthday and he's the one giving out all the good presents.

We're watching a living legend, folks, and all people can talk about is him not giving the proper amount of respect to Babe Ruth (who is apparently subbing for Albert Pujols this week). Perhaps if Bonds smiled for the camera, espoused saccharine-sweet and politically correct quotes for all the media and Nike's PR machine to hear, maybe he would enjoy more love and those juicy endorsements. You know – be a little more like a guy like, say, Kobe Bryant.

I just want Barry to keep being Barry. Dominate your competition, kiss your little boy after those instantly historic home runs and brush off the media all you wish (except for me, of course, who champions your cause weekly for the! Sports juggernaut).

It's his birthday, folks. You may not agree with his brusque manner, but controversial opinions obviously have no affect on his performance, nor do they land him in jail for sexual assault, battery, arms/narcotics possession, etc. Simply put, he does his job better than anyone alive. Or dead, for that matter.

Happy Birthday, Barry. And I really didn't mean to call you "Shorty".

Keith Larson writes for because he's lived and died with the Giants since 1972. He welcomes all words of praise and insult at, but mentioning anything having to do with Game 6 is to be done with extreme caution.

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