by John W. Lillpop
Barry Bonds latest alleged dalliance with illegal substances may be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.
Assuming that Commissioner Bud Selig is able to tear himself away from used lemon sales long enough to feign real concern about the greatest game ever played, the following scenario seems quite likely for Barry Bonds, AKA the Sullen One.
It is Spring, 2012. Five years have passed since Commissioner Bud Selig ended the career of Barry Bonds after the slugger was indicted for perjury and tax evasion.
This is the first year in which Bonds is eligible for induction into the baseball Hall of Fame.
Sportswriters are debating whether or not Bonds' convictions on those federal charges should prevent him from entering baseball's highly coveted museum of greatness.
Bonds' single-season and career home run records have been asterisked by Commissioner Selig, but admission to the Hall of Fame has been left in the capable, if shaky, hands of America's sports writers.
Meanwhile, in Leavenworth, Kansas, The Prison Dawg's clean-up hitter, and single-term home run leader, sits anxiously beside his cell phone, in Cell 25.
Barry Bonds, Prisoner Number 007, hopes his reputation as a media-friendly, warm and congenial superstar will carry him over the top, and into Cooperstown on the first ballot.
Bonds grows edgy as he awaits that "Big Call" from the Hall of Fame.
At the end of the day, Bonds must confront the brutal truth: He will NOT be in the Hall of Fame, at least not this year. His only hope is to wish for better luck next year.
Meanwhile, he will just have to sit on his asterisk for another year in Cell 25!
