Würste, wir kommen (and so is Barry)

Three games in a row seems like a whole winning season, doesn't it? Especially when you gain a game on the slumping leader. Guess there's a full moon rising...

Full moons bring out the werewolves. The devil's pets. Seems to be a lot of werewolves running around America these days, what with high school shootings, college shootings, driveby shootings, violence, violence, violence. No one's shooting the silver bullets to kill the violence, though. It's like it's become an acceptable part of American culture.

The Red Sox-Yankees $ports Network published an online article on Tuesday about the security that surrounds Barry Bonds.

Though Bonds might appear alone in the batter's box or in left field, nothing could be further from the case. On this night in Los Angeles, security is everywhere, keeping an eye on everything.

Bonds' MLB-assigned security liaison stands in an aisle next to the Giants' dugout. In every Bonds' at-bat, the liaison, a former New York cop, stands with his back to the field, keeping a close eye on fans.

In the Dodgers' left field bullpen, two security guards stand by, in plain clothes, leaning on the bullpen door waiting to pounce on any fan looking for his place in history. In seemingly every lower-level aisle throughout the stadium, ushers survey the crowd looking for anything suspicious. And all throughout the stadium, LAPD officers lead teams of bomb sniffing dogs.

A couple of weeks ago I watched an RFK Stadium worker, who was obviously high, climb up onto the visitors dugout and jump out onto the field. While it was kind of funny to watch him sort of stumble around (I think he was trying to dance), I thought about how easy it is to get onto the field. What if some crazy person came to the park with a loaded weapon? Like this guy:

...last month in Statesboro, Ga., police say 21-year-old William Benjamin Smith broke into his neighbors' home and threatened to kill them while yelling, "Barry Bonds doesn't deserve to be the home run king."

Bonds told KGO radio in San Francisco back during Spring Training that he's had an increasing number of death threats on him and his family that made him "increasingly uneasy about his place in the public eye." The possibility that someone could try to do something to Barry in today's mindlessly violent America is very real.

It's no secret that I am a big Bonds fan. But were it A-Rod or Jeff Kent or one of the other players I don't like, I wouldn't be acting like some of the Bonds haters.

A couple hours after his pregame news conference, when Bonds steps into the batter's box, the mood inside Dodger Stadium instantly changes. Beyond the boos, beyond the chants of "Barry Sucks," "Steroids" and "BALCO" are the personal attacks. One fan spouts disparaging remarks about Bonds' mother. Another does the same about his daughter. And in the left-field corner of Dodger Stadium, 6-year-old Alex Marcum is attending his first Dodger game with his dad. He, too, stands up, cups his hands around his mouth and, undoubtedly urged on by the environment around him, gets into the act.

"Hey Barry," Marcum yells. "Go back to San Francisco, you big wiener."

No doubt people thought the brat was "cute" for saying that. But what can you expect when that is how we treat each other these days, when hate-filled talk radio hosts and psychotic, lying columnists are not only acceptable, but are mainstream? Why do people think it is funny to insult people's mothers or daughters? That is uncivil, sad, and disgusting.

But those remarks are nothing compared to the real threat to Barry and his family. And that, to me, is a very scary thing.

I'll be at Great American Ball(p)ark on July 3 with a pro-Barry sign, rooting, of course, for the Reds, who hopefully have put their woes behind them. And if that 755 or 756 ball comes sailing my way and ends up in my hands, I'll give it back to him. But I will ask for a picture with him and an autographed ball!