barry bonds and the naughty wristbands.
By Trevor Ryan
If you’re anything like me, you were shocked to learn that, yes, it happened: Barry Bonds broke wristband regulations. I guess we all should have seen it coming. It’s a slippery slope from steroid abuse. First you grow breast tissue, your testicles start to shrink, and then you fall into worse and worse habits.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is this: I hope Barry Bonds has hit what rehab people like to call “rock bottom.” Now, everyone’s rock bottom is at a different point. Mine was when I awoke in a pool of someone else’s vomit (Chet, if you’re reading, gimme a call bro!), but for Barry (can I call you “Barry”?) things got much worse. Before we knew it, he was showing up to practice in wider and wider wrist bands.
Now, even in what I like to call the “juicer circles,” which are of course the people who shoot anabolic steroids into themselves (and each other. Chet? You reading? Remember that one time …) wide wristbands are what many would consider a no-no. But not for Barry. He always has to be a rule breaker. Well, this time, it’s finally cost him. A lot more than that “over the shoulder boulder holder” that now cups his man-boobs in a whopping D, too. It cost him five G’s. That’s five large. That’s $5K, people.
Let this be a lesson to all of us. For the love of frickin’ god, people, know when to say when. If you’ve “previously run afoul of baseball’s uniform regulations” (yup, that’s a quote), then be careful not to do it again. Is this all a cry for help, Barry? If he shows up in a clown suit next game, how will any of us feel?
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