Friday, April 16, 2004
Oakland Tribune Online - Sports News and Columns
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Article Last Updated: Friday, April 16, 2004 - 3:21:32 AM PST
Magical runs by Barry and Phil
THE WINTER chill has been pushed aside. Sport is giving us what we most of all desire, providing the "tumultuous merriment," that captured us in the first place. Phil Mickelson's triumph at Augusta, Barry Bonds's home runs at SBC were uplifting, literally -- fans reaching toward the heavens -- and symbolically. If this is an attempt to flee from the real world, well, isn't that what our games were meant to provide? The photos from Iraq could hardly be more grim or depressing. The moments of triumph on golf courses and baseball diamonds, however brief, could be somewhat therapeutic.
The other day in Atlanta, they honored the Hammer, Hank Aaron, on the 30th anniversary of his 715th home run, the one that put him ahead of Babe Ruth. I was there that special night in 1974, watching the ball fly beyond the cyclone fence in left, listening to the crowd, thinking a record we believed was sacrosanct had been altered forever.
And we come to realize that is the essence of sport, to play at the highest level, to set standards of excellence, to do what supposedly cannot be done, whether winning a major golf championship for Mickelson or going one up on the magnificent Willie Mays for Bonds.
Being there, that's what matters. Picking up the excitement for the rest of us.
A strange thing happened at the Masters when Mickelson made the winning putt. The media, schooled in the axiom that there's no cheering in the press box, cheered in the press room. It wasn't so much for Phil. It was because we were caught up in history.
Jimmy Cannon, the late New York Post columnist, paid homage to Jets quarterback Joe Namath for an excellent game by saying, "It's all about a man being good at something." We've been blessed with so many men, and women, being good at so many things, and only infrequently do we appreciate what they've achieved.
There wasn't going to be another Babe Ruth. Babe was more than man, someone wrote, "He was a parade all by himself." But along came Roger Maris to better Ruth's single-season mark, and then along came Aaron to set the career mark. And then Mark McGwire hit 70. And then Bonds hit 73. And now Barry has hit 661, and we're back to thinking about the Babe.
One swing at a time. We speculate, the great ones act. Mickelson won his major by concentrating on the next shot. Bonds set his records by concentrating on the next pitch.
Competition is not enough. Champions are satisfied only with success. Joe Montana was asked on his retirement if he would miss football. "No," he said unemotionally, "I'll miss winning. That's why I played, not just to be out there but to win."
What Mickelson won was a validation. What Bonds has been winning is the battle, against the critics, against the doubters and no less against the opponent. If Barry stands there somewhat imperiously as another baseball takes flight, he's earned the right. He's very good at something.
So, as we remember, was Mays. And to have Willie so involved in Barry's pursuit of these home run marks provides a certain legitimacy.
There's Willie, and there's his godson, Barry, a link of the generations, a link of the triumphs.
We've lost innocence from Willie's time to the present, but there's no reason to lose respect. We are as much permitted to enjoy Bonds' quest as others enjoyed Mays'. If Barry is less than lovable, well, in his era, so too was Willie. The issue is not personality.
"Whatever he does," Mays said about Bonds, "right or wrong, I'm going to be there for him. He doesn't need approval from me, because I've been there since he was 5."
Bonds doesn't need approval from anyone, but he has it from a majority of us. We understand where he has gone and where he may be going, the way we also understood where Phil Mickelson went last Sunday at Augusta.
It has been a fine few days, and now that Barry and Phil have crossed one boundary, things only can get better. For them and for us.
EMAIL ARTICLE LINK TO ARTICLE PRINT ARTICLE
Article Last Updated: Friday, April 16, 2004 - 3:21:32 AM PST
Magical runs by Barry and Phil
THE WINTER chill has been pushed aside. Sport is giving us what we most of all desire, providing the "tumultuous merriment," that captured us in the first place. Phil Mickelson's triumph at Augusta, Barry Bonds's home runs at SBC were uplifting, literally -- fans reaching toward the heavens -- and symbolically. If this is an attempt to flee from the real world, well, isn't that what our games were meant to provide? The photos from Iraq could hardly be more grim or depressing. The moments of triumph on golf courses and baseball diamonds, however brief, could be somewhat therapeutic.
The other day in Atlanta, they honored the Hammer, Hank Aaron, on the 30th anniversary of his 715th home run, the one that put him ahead of Babe Ruth. I was there that special night in 1974, watching the ball fly beyond the cyclone fence in left, listening to the crowd, thinking a record we believed was sacrosanct had been altered forever.
And we come to realize that is the essence of sport, to play at the highest level, to set standards of excellence, to do what supposedly cannot be done, whether winning a major golf championship for Mickelson or going one up on the magnificent Willie Mays for Bonds.
Being there, that's what matters. Picking up the excitement for the rest of us.
A strange thing happened at the Masters when Mickelson made the winning putt. The media, schooled in the axiom that there's no cheering in the press box, cheered in the press room. It wasn't so much for Phil. It was because we were caught up in history.
Jimmy Cannon, the late New York Post columnist, paid homage to Jets quarterback Joe Namath for an excellent game by saying, "It's all about a man being good at something." We've been blessed with so many men, and women, being good at so many things, and only infrequently do we appreciate what they've achieved.
There wasn't going to be another Babe Ruth. Babe was more than man, someone wrote, "He was a parade all by himself." But along came Roger Maris to better Ruth's single-season mark, and then along came Aaron to set the career mark. And then Mark McGwire hit 70. And then Bonds hit 73. And now Barry has hit 661, and we're back to thinking about the Babe.
One swing at a time. We speculate, the great ones act. Mickelson won his major by concentrating on the next shot. Bonds set his records by concentrating on the next pitch.
Competition is not enough. Champions are satisfied only with success. Joe Montana was asked on his retirement if he would miss football. "No," he said unemotionally, "I'll miss winning. That's why I played, not just to be out there but to win."
What Mickelson won was a validation. What Bonds has been winning is the battle, against the critics, against the doubters and no less against the opponent. If Barry stands there somewhat imperiously as another baseball takes flight, he's earned the right. He's very good at something.
So, as we remember, was Mays. And to have Willie so involved in Barry's pursuit of these home run marks provides a certain legitimacy.
There's Willie, and there's his godson, Barry, a link of the generations, a link of the triumphs.
We've lost innocence from Willie's time to the present, but there's no reason to lose respect. We are as much permitted to enjoy Bonds' quest as others enjoyed Mays'. If Barry is less than lovable, well, in his era, so too was Willie. The issue is not personality.
"Whatever he does," Mays said about Bonds, "right or wrong, I'm going to be there for him. He doesn't need approval from me, because I've been there since he was 5."
Bonds doesn't need approval from anyone, but he has it from a majority of us. We understand where he has gone and where he may be going, the way we also understood where Phil Mickelson went last Sunday at Augusta.
It has been a fine few days, and now that Barry and Phil have crossed one boundary, things only can get better. For them and for us.
