Bonds market looking ugly

And now the long, tortured slog begins.

It won't be pretty.

Barry Bonds isn't Barry Bonds anymore.

He isn't a one-homer-every-10-at-bats guy. He isn't the everyday menacing figure at the plate he was before the fast erosion, caused by age and injury, began.

Now that he finally put Babe Ruth in his rearview mirror, hitting home run No. 715 on Sunday off Byung-Hyun Kim, Bonds begins his pursuit of Hank Aaron's all-time home run record.

He is 40 home runs away from tying Aaron, a number that, two years ago, he would have swallowed up in a season. Now it appears Bonds, 41, will have to stay in the game at least into the 2008 season to break Aaron's mark.

There are no guarantees.

But there will be a lot of nights when he can't get his bat on outside fastballs. A lot of games when he winces when he swings, as he puts all of his weight on his troublesome right leg.

Bone chips still float in his elbow. His knees now painfully creak. He is a liability in left field. But Barry is chasing Hammerin' Hank, and his every at-bat will be watched from now until whenever.

This chase stopped feeling like a celebration a long time ago. It stopped being a feel-good story when the grand jury testimony was leaked and Bonds was implicated in steroid-use investigations and the name BALCO became synonymous with cheating.

It stopped being fun when the thoroughly researched book "Game of Shadows" was published.

Bonds has become a classic case of what-goes-around-comes-around. He has treated so many people so poorly, from teammates, to family members, from reporters to fans, that he has lost the requited love that should be part of this chase.

He might be the most disliked athlete in pro sports, and he has nobody but himself to blame for that.

Except in San Francisco, Barry Bonds still will be booed every time he steps to the plate. Ugly people will yell ugly things at him as he stands in left field.

He will limp to line drives in the gap and bloopers down the line that he once effortlessly chased down. Giants pitchers will be charged with earned runs because of balls that Bonds no longer can reach.

The slog begins.

Former U.S. senator George Mitchell continues an investigation that centers on Bonds and steroid use. His information could lead to a suspension, which could cost Bonds the record.

Mitchell could stop Bonds' quest more surely than every major-league pitcher.

Bonds' future, which once seemed as easy to predict as the tides, is as uncertain as the flutter on a knuckleball.

At the end of this season, his contract with the Giants ends, and who knows what team Bonds will be playing for next year when the pursuit of the most prestigious career record in sport begins again.

The conventional wisdom says he will be in the American League, where he won't have to play left field and he can play out his career as a designated hitter.

But Bonds comes with so much baggage that any curious AL team should think twice before signing him.

He is a disruptive force in the clubhouse. He has personal trainers and needs personal space in the clubhouse.

His chase of Ruth this year has been a distraction to his San Francisco teammates, and that distraction would follow him to his next city.

He's a .254 hitter now, with only seven home runs. And he takes a lot more days off now than he did when he was healthy.

Signing Bonds wouldn't be a popular move in most cities or most clubhouses. I don't see there being a significant spike in ticket sales for the team that signs him, until he creeps close to the record.

Despite his physical limitations, the Giants remain the best team for him.

His ties to the team are significant. His father, Bobby, played for the Giants. His godfather, Willie Mays, is the greatest Giant of all time and, rightfully, the franchise's most beloved player.

Despite the distractions, the Giants' players and front office are accustomed to Bonds. They know how to handle his moods and are better equipped to deal with the endless questions about the home-run chase.

Barry Bonds stepping to the plate still is a cause to celebrate in San Francisco. For better or for worse, he is a Giant.

That is where his heart is and where his marathon chase of Hank Aaron should be run.

Steve Kelley: 206-464-2176 or skelley@seattletimes.com.