Game of Shadows

I’ve been reading (like everyone else) “Game of Shadows,” the book about Barry Bonds and steroids and the BALCO scandal. It’s quite a remarkable feat of reporting. What's striking about it is something that you might not notice—which is the absence of obvious lawyering. If you ever write something even remotely critical of someone, the lawyers invariably go through it, and before you know it your words is strewn with “apparently” and “allegedly,” and “according to” and so-so “denies. . .” There’s almost none of that in “Game of Shadows,” which is amazing considering the book accuses, in devastating detail, several of the biggest names in sports—Barry Bonds, Gary Sheffield, Tim Montgomery and Marion Jones, among others—of being serious steroid users.

When the book first came out, and several baseball writers predicted that Bonds’ reputation was destroyed and his chances of getting into the Hall of Fame seriously damaged, I thought they were overstating things. Now I’m not so sure. “Game of Shadows” is a death sentence for Bonds. More to the point, it’s impossible to read the book and accept that Bonds has a right either to the single season home-run record or, assuming he keeps playing, the career home run mark.

From the moment he started his late career surge, everyone who knew anything about baseball suspected mischief. “Game of Shadows” points out that Bonds had the second, ninth and tenth greatest offensive season in baseball history at the ages of 36, 37, and 39 respectively—and the average age of everyone else on that list (Gehrig, Foxx, Ruth and Hornsby) is 27. No one—no one—turns himself into one of the greatest hitters of all time in his late 30’s. His home run record should have been denied as statistically implausible.