Archive for the ‘Barry Bonds’ Category

Miguel Cabrera is on a quite a tear as the second month of the 2013 season winds down. Last year’s American League Triple Crown winner is currently hitting .387/.457/.659 with 11 home runs and a .471 wOBA. It goes without saying, Cabrera is the best all-around hitter in the game today.

A former great, one with seven National League MVP awards to his credit, would agree that Cabrera is the best player in the game. It’s not even close, as Barry Bonds told USA Today‘s Bob Nightengale in a phone interview on Monday. Bonds just asks that we don’t get carried away and start comparing Cabrera to himself. There’s no argument to be made there, according to Bonds.

“He’s definitely the best. It’s not rocket science here. He’s the best. By far. Without a doubt. The absolute best. I don’t try to compare me to anybody. I was the best on the field. I did more things than he did. My game was different than his game. So comparing him, to me, there’s no comparison.

He doesn’t have my MVPs. He doesn’t have my numbers. Well, not yet, anyways. But does he have that ability? Yes, he does. Does he have that gift? Yes, he does.”

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Two former MLB sluggers, forever linked by huge muscles and the era in which they played, have put their respective homes up for sale. Barry Bonds is selling his Beverly Hills home, probably because it costs a lot of money to fight the United States government. Jeff Bagwell has put his Houston home up for sale because, presumably, all the guys that hit home runs in the “steroid era” do all the same stuff.

Let’s take a look at what these two luxurious homes have to offer.

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The “Hall of Fame” is what we’re calling that section of old Yankee Stadium, probably a $7 cab ride from home plate. Additionally, this ball surely would’ve landed in Cooperstown had it not plunked into the lap of Yankees fans in the upper, upper, upper, upper mezzanine of the House that Babe Ruth Built and Barry Bonds Summarily Destroyed.

Bonds is elected along with the sound Yankee Stadium made after this blast, an unusual blend of scorn and satisfaction that everyone in attendance got to see exactly what they hoped would happen when they walked through the turnstiles that sunny afternoon.

Elbow pad adjustment to our friend Wendy.