Bonds' Mets Targets Revealed

I used to tote around a loose theory that if Al Harazin hadn't wasted the Mets' money on Bobby Bonilla in the winter of 1991 that he could have spent it more wisely one December later on Barry Lamar Bonds.

Wait with the “who needed him, the bum?” knee-jerk reflex if you can for a moment. This was 15 years ago when Bonds was merely unpleasant as opposed to law-skirting, immoral and a king-size jerk with a king-size head to match. This was when Barry Bonds really was the player everybody looks back on wistfully, the “he was a Hall of Famer even before he started doing whatever he did” Bonds. He could hit, he could hit with power, he could run, he could catch, he could throw, he could change the fortunes of an entire franchise. He had done it once for Pittsburgh, he would do it again for San Francisco.

He could have done it for the Mets. I mean why not? We were just itching to get back into the limelight in the early '90s, we just did it all wrong. Bonilla-wrong. If only management held out another year and let Bobby Blow sign with the Angels or Phillies. There may not have been a lot to choose from between them in terms of personality but at least Bonds, before he became utterly toxic, outperformed his problems.

I'm basing this mostly on a story I read circa 1992 about Bonds and Bonilla riding around Manhattan and Barry wondering aloud about playing in New York. I don't remember it being his dream to play with his former teammate. And he wasn't talking about the American League. One can always speculate that everything would have turned out differently. That somehow Bonds would have come to Shea, hit like himself and behaved more like a person because, gosh, he would have been a Met. In the meantime, he hits his 40 homers, steals his 40 bases, drives in his hundred runs and decides to smile a lot more. The Giants move to Tampa Bay as they almost did, Willie Mays returns to New York as godfather-in-residence, the Mets improve a lot quicker…

This is baseless, I have to admit. But for a while back there in time I thought it could have been done. Maybe that's why I've never completely, completely, completely had it in for Bonds the way so many baseball fans have, maybe that's why I found fleeting enjoyment in his establishing a new home run record for a single season and then a checkered career. I never much cared for the man but I always did enjoy watching the player.

In August 1998, Shea burst at the seams for Mark McGwire. It was the same everywhere, both for him and for Sammy Sosa. Great seasons they were having, but sideshow acts I thought them. As I left Shea after the Friday night doubleheader in which Mark was held homerless (and we split in our suddenly secondary quest to win a Wild Card), I asked Jason and Emily why we're selling out for McGwire yet it's no particular big deal when the great Barry Bonds comes to town? Why doesn't Bonds rock Shea the way Magic and Michael would cause a stir once a year when they showed up at Madison Square Garden?

Because Bonds is an asshole, Emily reminded me.

Oh yeah. How could I forget?

There are three Bondses to me, and none of them is capable of fully shaking off Emily's description.

There's the one who everybody has come to despise, a reaction I completely understand and respect; Bonds kind of lost me in 1994 when he didn't think it was worth turning around to track Kelly Stinnett's long fly ball at Candlestick — he stayed locked in to hands on knees, watching the infield position — even though it turned out Stinnett's hit was a double that needed chasing. That's the same Bonds who showed up in the Game of Shadows excerpt I read in SI last spring and made me want to puke. The same one who tried to pin some mysterious bottle in his locker on neighbor Mark Sweeney. The same one who gave me false hope for 1991 by arguing in full view of cameras with Jim Leyland during Spring Training. The same one who can't resist snarling at reporters even in his finest statistical hour. I could do without that Barry Bonds.

There's the one I watch late at night on Extra Innings, the one whose skills I've admired despite knowing I shouldn't wholly, whose batting eye frightens pitchers and managers into an ungodly accumulation of bases on balls, whose alleged deployment of extracurricular substances has been quite disturbing yet, as the numbers have revealed, most effective. That's the Bonds I take the slightest satisfaction in saying I got to see in his two primes, the Bonds for whom I undergo a bit of amnesia to appreciate.

Then there's the one who faces the Mets. He can go bleep himself.

We seem to have done a nice job of controlling Barry Bonds' worst instincts. Not the lashing out or shooting up but the swatting far. We're eleventh on his list of HRs against, way behind the Padres and other assorted Bonds targets. Shea has been the site of only 13 of his 758 (which doesn't really help my retrofitted cause to sign him in advance of 1993, does it?). His one postseason against the Mets was fruitless: he batted .176, drove in one run and made the last out of the two Giants losses that came with last outs. By those standards, we are the all-time home run king for we have bested Barry Bonds.

But he's had his successes against pitchers with some Met in them. As noted last Thursday, he's gotten to 75 different pitchers who at some point threw a pitch for us. They may have been clothed in Met laundry at the moment of contact, they may have been former Mets or they may not have known the Met future that awaited them. We asked if you could name some of them and at least a few of you, like Barry, gave it a shot. One of you, a reader named Schuyler, all but nailed it.

So here are the answers already yet…

1) I'm remembered as the second pitcher in some pretty good rotations, so it's fitting, I suppose, that I gave up Barry Bonds' second home run ever. I'm mid-'80s righty and current SNY analyst Ron Darling.

2) I gave up Bonds' 26th homer. And I wouldn't be on this list as a Met if the Mets weren't so hot to give away the guy who gave up Bonds' second home run ever. I'm reliever Tim Burke, traded to the Mets from Montreal for Darling and no good reason.

3) I had a no-hitter going in the seventh until Bonds hit his 201st home run off me. The shock for Mets fans was I had a no-hitter going in the seventh…and that it wasn't the Mets who were being no-hit, given how that particular year was going. I'm Frank Tanana, used-up soft tosser from the sad-sack 1993 Mets (I'm also one of only two pitchers who gave up homers to Henry Aaron and Barry Bonds, me and Rick Reuschel.)

4) If Bacsik's the 75th member of this club, then I guess I'm the 74th, even if the last of the three homers I gave up to Bonds only put his career total to 667. I'm spankin' new Met Brian Lawrence.

5) I once had something of a numerical nature the guy who's the answer to the previous question has now. But I gave up just one homer to Bonds: his 171st. I'm Mark Clark, the last player to wear 54 for the Mets before Lawrence (so says a reliable source).

6) Bonds got me for the 56th home run of his career. Once he went and hit another 554 off other people, I could have dropped to my knees and flung my glove in the air in celebration. But I would have exulted too soon, for I also gave up Bonds' 611th homer. With that kind of span between homers, I could be no one other than ageless Jesse Orosco.

7) Mets fans were far more annoyed that I gave up home runs to the likes of Alfredo Amezaga and Hanley Ramirez than they are that Bonds touched me for eight homers (even if eight is the most anybody in this particular club has on his ledger). I'm Chan Ho Park, and not only did I have a rough go of it in my single 2007 Met appearance, I'm one of five pitchers overall to have given up eight home runs to Bonds. The others are non-Mets Greg Maddux, Terry Mulholland, Curt Schilling and John Smoltz.

8) I had a perfect ERA of 0.00 in three appearances for Willie Randolph, but I wasn't so lucky when I gave up Bonds' 622nd homer when I was pitching for Bob Boone. I'm Felix Heredia and my earned run average somehow doesn't begin to describe my 2005 Met tenure.

9) I'm one of those myriad lefty specialists who hung around to face lefty sluggers like Bonds. When I was a Met, I wasn't all that special. In fact, I was a starter and gave up Bonds' 244th homer. I'd give up three more to him in my later incarnation in relief. The last two (Nos. 511 and 516), I'll bet, made Mets fans particularly happy given who I was pitching for by then. I'm longtime Brave Mike Remlinger and I'm finally retired.

10) I was involved in a trade with five other pitchers altogether, but I was the only one of the six who ever gave up a homer to Bonds. I gave up five of 'em, starting with No. 288 and ending with No. 434. I'm Kevin Tapani, but not Frank Viola, Dave West, Tim Drummond, Jack Savage or Rick Aguilera, my deadline deal buddies from 1989.

11) My name comes up tangentially in connection to Barry Bonds for some reason. I gave up his 657th homer, but that can't be why people have invoked my name when his comes up. I wonder why we're connected. I wish I had a shot at answering this. I'm Guillermo Mota and I don't wanna talk about it.

12) Some of the most notable closers in Mets history escaped the wrath of Bonds. I didn't. I gave up the 711th home run of the guy's career, but big deal. We won the game. I'm Billy Wagner. Get off my back.

13) I took care of Barry Bonds and everybody on his team when it mattered most. But I did give up his 286th and 524th homers, though I doubt Mets fans remember either of those blasts, so associated am I with the aforementioned great effort against Bonds' team. I'm Bobby Jones, and after my Game Four series-clinching one-hitter versus the Giants, there's nothing else worth bringing up about me.

14) I gave up Barry Bonds' 465th homer, but I prefer to bask in the afterglow of having been the only one in this club to have won a game the night before Barry got to 756. I'm the enduring Cleveland righty known as Paul Byrd.

15) I'm the person who gave up Barry Bonds' 438th home run. That's all you need to know. I'm the Personification of a cheap answer: Robert Person.

16) If all Mets fan knew about me was I gave up Bonds' 46th and 55th career homers, I'd feel a lot better about my career. I think a whole Nation would feel the same. Ah, but you know me, Calvin Schiraldi, for so many better reasons.

17) Boy did I suck as a Met. Wait, let me narrow it down for you. Exactly ten years before Barry Bonds became baseball's all-time home run king was the last time Mets fans didn't particularly care how much I sucked. As an aside, I gave up the 110th home run of Bonds' career. But mostly I sucked as a Met. I was traded to New York exactly one decade minus one day before Bonds' 756th, yet my name, Mel Rojas, still resonates down the corridors of suckdom.

18) Yeah, I sucked as a Met, too. It was almost as if there were a rule that I had to suck as a Met for like an entire year. I would give up Bonds' 173rd career home run…as a teammate of the guy who gave up the 110th. I'm 1991 Rule V stickee Doug Simons, later an Expo who joined Mel Rojas in intense Montreal bullpen suckitude.

19) I was way better than my brother when it came to not giving up home runs to Barry Bonds. Sure, the guy got me for No. 180, but my brother gave up many more to him than I did. So I've got that going for me. Of course I'm Mike Maddux.

20) Greg thinks I'm the most obscure Met in this entire club, at least in terms of having been a Met. That's a purely subjective metric, but I'm so obscure Greg actually did a double-take when he saw my name. He was all “ohmigod, I totally forgot this guy was ever on the Mets.” It's like I was so obscure that any season I helped build as a Met couldn't have been worth finishing. I'm so obscure that once a season that wasn't worth finishing wasn't finished, I was finished, too…y'know? I'm too obscure to be on any list. I think I'm too obscure to have given up two home runs to Barry Bonds, No. 8 and No. 253. But I did. You know…I must have been around a while to have been tagged by Bonds 245 homers apart. That might help you figure out who I was. Honestly, I don't know what more there is to say about me. If Greg's forgotten me, you have every reason to have also. I'm strike-shortened 1994 Met Roger Mason…and you're not.

21) I doubt I'm all that well remembered by Mets fans either. Greg barely recalls my Met tenure. but I was a part of history. In the runup to Bonds' single-season home run record, I gave up three dingers to the big man in a week, Nos. 559, 560 and 562 in his career. Steve Phillips must have been impressed by me because he went out and got me the very next summer. I wouldn't say he traded the world for me, but he was willing to toss in a very valuable body of water. I'm Jason Bay trade bait Jason Middlebrook. Thanks Steve!

22) What the guy before me said? You know, about Nos. 559, 560 and 562? Guess who gave up No. 561? Me! I only gave up that one homer to Bonds, but in my only two Mets appearances, I gave up three homers, including two to a genuine World Series hero. (I really, really, really sucked as a Met.) I'm James Baldwin…sigh. The World Series hero, incidentally, was Luis Gonzalez, one of the supersaviors of the 2001 Fall Truly Classic.

23) Barry Bonds hasn't been that much of a problem for the Mets in terms of being a frequent threat since he became a Giant. But when he was a Pirate, he was a potential problem 18 games a year. Remember Barry as a Pirate? I do. I gave up his final Pirate homer, the 176th of his career and the first of three he hit off me in my fairly distinguished career. I won two Cy Youngs, but neither as a Met, which is why my being Bret Saberhagen probably doesn't mean all that much to you.

24) My kids weren't going to be as uneducated as I was. I saw to that. I guess I didn't seem too bright the five times I gave up homers to Barry Bonds. Five, incidentally, is the total of two plus three…and three is the number I gave up to Bonds after I decided my kids' education was my biggest concern. The last of 'em, so far, was No. 607. Home runs to Bonds, that is. I don't have that many kids as far as I can count. I'm as big a target for Mets fans as I've been for Bonds, for I am 2000 NLCS MVP Mike Hampton and I left you not just with a pennant but with a really poor explanation.

25) In my time, I also gave up five homers to Bonds, starting with No. 342 and winding up with No. 679. In my time with the Mets, I gave up the first grand slam to another player of some note. My Mets time was rather brief. I'm the man for whom Lima Time was named, Jose Lima! That granny, incidentally, was surrendered to Dontrelle Willis. It pretty much ended Lima Time.

26) I gave up four homers to Bonds, the first of them No. 190. But honestly, I've got my own big number that people have been talking about lately, so screw my being in this crappy club for jerks. I'm Tom Glavine and I'm trying to figure out what to do with 300 mounted golf balls.

27) That's almost exactly what I said about the Mets not long ago, even though I haven't put any big numbers that people are talking about. But I did give up Bonds' 519th and 551st home runs. Who cares about me? Nobody, not even Schuyler got you, John Thomson. Why you made a big point last winter of announcing you had no interest in pitching to Paul Lo Duca is one of the mysteries of our era.

28) Just as I sure gave up the second-most home runs to Barry Bonds that any pitcher who has pitched for the Mets has, the Mets sure gave up on me at a pretty young age. I sure made them look bad by going out and being the second-best pitcher in the National League shortly thereafter, at least according to Cy Young voters. The first home run I gave up to Bonds was his 175th. The last was his 394th. I'm Pete Schourek, enemy of Dallas Green and seven-time notation in Barry Bonds' home run log.

29) My career has been about as gaudy as Bonds'. I'm only in this club because I gave up Barry's 287th homer. I'm only pitching for the club I'm pitching for this week because I've been hurt. I'm recent temporary St. Lucie Met Pedro Martinez.

30) Barry got to me for Nos. 40 and 60 when I was one of the best pitchers in baseball and No. 156 when I was in noticeable decline. He never saw me at my absolute best even though he's actually a little older than I am. I'm Doc Gooden, who came up two years before Barry Bonds and had my best years before he saw pitch one from anybody.

31) As of Tuesday night, Mike Bacsik and I had our names next to Barry Bonds' record-setting home runs. The next homer Bonds hit, on Wednesday, Bacsik's name was replaced by Tim Redding's because No. 757 became the new lifetime record. But unless a slugger really bulks up the way Bonds did the year Barry hit the 567th of his career off me, then I'll be a trivia question well into perpetuity. Let's just say it's unlikely I'll ever knuckle under to another pitcher in this regard. I'm knuckleballer and awkwardly phrased answer Dennis Springer. I gave up No. 73 to Barry in 2001 so, technically, I'm still attached to the single-season record, whereas Mike Bacsik was replaced immediately by Tim Redding who, in turn, was replaced by Matt Morris, the pitcher who surrendered No. 758 Friday night.

The full Met club by quantity of Bonds home runs allowed follows. It's kind of a trip down Mixed Memory Lane for connoisseurs of Mets pitching.

8: Park

7: Schourek

5: Hampton, Lima, Tapani and Orel Hershiser.

4: Glavine, Remlinger, Pedro Astacio, Pete Harnisch and Hideo Nomo.

3: Gooden, Lawrence, Middlebrook, Saberhagen, Manny Aybar, Steve Trachsel and David Weathers.

2: Jones, Mason, Orosco, Schiraldi, Thomson, Juan Acevedo, Kevin Appier, Willie Blair, Vic Darensbourg, Mark Guthrie, Al Leiter, Cory Lidle, Chuck McElroy, Dave Mlicki, Randy Myers, Bobby Ojeda, Rick Reed, Armando Reynoso, Rich Rodriguez, Pete Smith and Wally Whitehurst.

1: Bacsik, Baldwin, Burke, Byrd, Clark, Darling, Heredia, Maddux, Martinez, Mota, Person, Rojas, Simons, Springer, Tanana, Wagner, Rigo Beltran, Kris Benson, Chad Bradford, Bruce Chen, David Cone, Jerry DiPoto, Octavio Dotel, Sid Fernandez, Matt Ginter, Danny Graves, Greg Harris, Aaron Heilman, Eric Hillman, Kaz Ishii, Jason Isringhausen, Jason Jacome, Graeme Lloyd, Darren Oliver, Kenny Rogers, Dan Schatzeder and Masato Yoshii.