Flash:

It took a while, but I'm into it. Barry Bonds is about to break the home run record, and I care.

I care!

Maybe it was the constant inundation of Bonds-themed editorials, news reports, ESPN specials, books, and magazine articles that left me cold. Maybe it was the constant debates and arguments, with both sides obfuscating as much as they wanted to in order to sell their point. The six-day-old-sushi-in-the-glove-compartment play of the Giants this season has definitely been the focus of this site.

But now I'm one of the giggling fanboys. When Bonds comes up, I call my wife in from the other room. I was fascinated by the unexpected cheering when Bonds hit #755. It still warms my heart that a steroid user gave up the homer. I want to watch this happen. I want to tell my kids where I was when it happened. I would have loved to tell them that I was at the game, but Goofus is on Craigslist right now, selling the tickets at a premium. I was just happy to be considered.

And now that I'm into it, I can safely delve into the hot topics of the day without feeling like a soulless hypocrite. For example:

I didn't care if Bud Selig followed Bonds around the country. It was a non-story. Selig wanted to get to those TPS reports piling up back in Milwaukee? Whatever. Non-story. But when Selig did decide to attend Bonds games, he made a choice to be a part of the story.

Selig's reaction to #755 was the weeniest moment in history. Tom Hicks had to tell him to stand up. Selig stood up. And then he just kind of stared.

That's why he flew to San Diego. To just kind of stare. Did he wing it? Or was it a prepared reaction? He had to have some idea of what he was going to do. That means, at some point to some person, the idea of an emotionless stare was a good idea. It was the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life. If Selig clapped, he would have taken some heat from the hardliners. If Selig had said, you know, I don't think this record is legitimate and I'm not going to pay my respects by attending, he would have taken a whole bunch of heat. So he chose the middle ground. To just kind of stare. A reaction that no one could appreciate. That's a special kind of genius.

Comment starter: Why is baseball in a period of unparalleled economic success? Selig doesn't seem like he could finish a game of Monopoly without eating the Scottie dog and sticking hotels up his nose. How in the hell is this sport so successful right now?  

And I really hope someone YouTubes a "To steroids: The magical wonder-compounds that saved baseball!"-toast he probably gave at some Rotary Club luncheon in 1999.