No. 756? Not worth watching for this scribe

Do you realize how hard it is to ignore Barry Bonds?

It's like trying to take a vacation from air. I can't ditch Bonds. He's everywhere.

In conversations at my favorite bar. In conversations at my favorite bookstore.

On the mind of my pizza delivery guy. On the mind of my father.

Across every genre of media, of course. Across T-shirts depicting a slugger swinging a syringe.

"BOYCOTTBARRY.COM," the shirts read, "for the good of the game."

A group of fans connected to this Web site refused to watch Bonds become baseball's home-run king. So they followed him from ballpark to ballpark, wearing "Bonds-folds" to cover their eyes whenever he came to the plate.

It might have been the most expensive boycott ever.

Guess nobody suggested staying home and playing Monopoly.

The problem with disregarding Bonds is that he rarely inspires dispassion. During his pursuit of Hank Aaron's record, which ended Tuesday night, I kept getting the same question.

What do you think about Bonds?

Here's my answer.

Nothing.

His record pursuit was like game No. 51 in a 162-game baseball season to me. It was like Oct. 13, 1995. I can't recall what I was doing then, and later I won't recall what I was doing when Bonds hijacked Aaron's hard-earned feat.

Consider it Bonds burnout. I just wanted the talk to end. For four years, ever since Bonds become a part of the BALCO steroids scandal, I've gone through the range of emotions.

Outrage over the witch-hunt aspect of this controversy.

Disgust when I became convinced Bonds had cheated.

Sardonic after considering the impure motives of both Bonds and his detractors.

Curiosity over how far-reaching the scandal might be.

Bored by the continuing chatter.

And now, nothing.

A broken record. Worthless.

The problem with sports controversies is we rarely learn anything from them. Because we're too busy arguing. We argue everything in sports, and many times, there is no right or wrong in these debates. They have to do with preference.

That's fine when the conversation is Kobe vs. LeBron. But throw something serious into the mix, and then we have a problem.

A friend told me a story about sitting in a bar and listening to some guys arguing about Bonds. The disagreement lasted an hour and a half. It was loud, like any sports quarrel. It was trivial discussion about the most burdensome issue in sports today. It was an immobile argument, a waste of an hour and a half.

Sports will never be clean as long as we obstruct what's right and wrong. I found the more I paid attention to Bonds' controversy, the less I remembered the real issue — the integrity of a game.

So I quit following it. But, but, what about the home-run record? There's still video of Aaron galloping around the bases, with two silly and exuberant fans chasing him, after he hit No. 715 and passed Babe Ruth. That footage is enough.

I didn't see Bonds hit No. 715. I didn't see him hit No. 755. And I was watching reruns of "The Sopranos" when he hit No. 756. In fact, the last Bonds homer I remember watching was No. 703. It was the last one he hit during the 2004 season. I'm happy to say that, on Sept. 26, I will have been Bonds-folded for three years.

Sports are much more enjoyable without his mess. If I need controversy, there's always Tim Donaghy or Michael Vick. If I need surliness, there's always Curt Schilling or Warren Sapp. If I need records, there's always some number some stat geek can uncover.

Bonds is a past-his-prime caricature of an athlete's undying quest for mass acceptance. His controversy is not some complex racial issue. He's just a guy playing the "hate me all you want" role while hobbling around to capture a record and attain immortality.

So, why write about him? Well, that's part of the beast. I'm a sports columnist, and sometimes, that means being a sports conformist. My hope was to survive the record chase without commenting on it.

The demand for Bonds talk is too high, though. Too many people e-mail about him. Too many people bring him up in casual conversation. It's impossible to ignore him.

So I must become part of the problem. I must say something about Bonds.

Here it is:

Nothing.

A broken record. Worthless.

Jerry Brewer: 206-464-2277 or jbrewer@seattletimes.com