Barry Bonds may be the most controversial player in the history of baseball. Considering that nearly 20,000 individuals have played in the majors since 1871, it's quite the distinction, though perhaps not the most coveted one. His legacy will always be steroids, first and foremost. It's what everyone thinks of when the name comes up, an image of a hulking figure striding up to the batter's box, knocking home runs into McCovey Cove. That Bonds took steroids is not up for discussion: he himself admitted as much, although he claimed he didn't know what he was taking, just consuming what his trainer gave him. Such claims of ignorance, whether feigned or legitimate, have not been enough to convince the gatekeepers of the HOF to elect him, as he has never been able to crack the 75% threshold necessary for induction. It's sad, truthfully, because even before he had taken steroids, Bonds was one of the best players the game had ever seen, and arguably one of the ten best hitters in baseball history.
Drafted in the second round of the 1982 draft, Bonds elected against signing with his hometown San Francisco Giants, with he and his father upset that the Bay Area team wouldn't give him an additional $5,000 with the signing bonus. He went to Arizona State and became one of the greatest college baseball players ever, and he was drafted sixth overall by the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1985. He proved that the minors were not match for his prowess immediately, slashing .299/.383/.547 in Class A ball and .311/.435/.527 in AAA. He debuted in 1986 and while he only hit 16 home runs, he still had an above-average year at the plate, with a 103 OPS+ and a 108 wRC+. It was nothing special, and over the next three years, Bonds would put together several great all-around seasons, but never a fantastic one at the plate.
By the end of 1989, Bonds had turned in solid years at the plate, almost attaining a .500 SLG in both 1987 and 1988. However, even though he had played transcendent defense in 1989, his offensive production had declined. He put together a phenomenal season overall in 1989, accumulating 8.0 bWAR and 7.1 fWAR, but compared to 1988, at the plate at least, the season had been somewhat of a disappointment. His SLG had slipped to a merely above-average .426, much lower than his good mark of .491 the year before. There were definitely some questions about just how high Bonds's ceiling was. After four years, he had showed that his defense was sensational, with 60 runs saved via Total Zone, but his slash line was a merely solid .256/.345/.458, good for a 124 OPS+ and 125 wRC+. He wasn't yet a star, and he knew it. There was a lot of pressure on him, being the son of a former star in Bobby Bonds, and being the godson of perhaps the greatest player in baseball history: Willie Mays. He would have to prove that the enormous hype was more than justified.
In 1990, Bonds exploded onto the scene as a full-fledged superstar. That year was one of the finest the National League had ever seen, as Barry combined his exceptional fielding of 21.5 runs saved (he won his first gold glove that year, even though he should have won in both 1987 and 1989) with a slash line of .301/.406/.565, leading the NL in slugging, OPS, OPS+, and wRC+. He and a phenomenal 9.7 bWAR and 9.9 fWAR. Among all 8,238 seasons in National League history with at least 400 plate appearances, Bonds's 1990 ranks 16th in WAR/PA, putting him in the 99.8th percentile. His era-adjusted wOBA is in the 97.8th percentile, and his wRC+ of 169 put him in the 98.5th percentile among all NL seasons. His raw numbers were spectacular: 33 homers, 52 stolen bases, his first .300 Avg, .400 OBP, and .500 SLG season. He walked 10 more times than he struck out, a feat he would match for the next 17 years. But even with all those incredible figures, it doesn't fully do him justice, since those were 30 years in the past. If we convert those figures to the 2019 run environment, they are as follows: a slash line of .295/.408/.635, with an insane 53! home runs. It was truly a transcendent campaign, and announced to the baseball world that there was a new force that had to be reckoned with. Bonds won his first MVP that year, garnering every single first-place vote except for a single writer, who decided that Bobby Bonilla, he of a 4.0 bWAR and a 132 OPS+, was more deserving of the honor. That voter notwithstanding, there was no doubt as to who as the best position player in the National League that year. The only question was if Bonds's 1990 was a fluke, a one-hit wonder, or if it was the start of something special. In the following eight years, Bonds would prove just how much of a sign his 1990 was of the things to come.
By the start of 1991, Barry Bonds had already won an MVP and recorded a 30/50 season (30+ home runs and 50+ stolen bases). He was the premier player in the National League, a dominant all-around force on the baseball diamond. His bWAR in 1990 of 9.7 was the highest the NL had seen since Joe Morgan's MVP season of 1975. Expectations were as high as they could possibly be heading into 1991. The big question was could Bonds continue what he had shown from the previous campaign, or would he revert to the merely very good all-around player he had been his first four years? A successful encore would establish himself as perhaps the best player in the majors, and he did just that in the second year of the decade. His power numbers declined slightly, as his slash line went down to .292/.410/.514, but still great enough for an NL-leading 160 OPS+ and 155 wRC+. He had 25 intentional walks, the most of his career up to that point, and it would foreshadow his future years as he would become famous for being given the free pass. His raw numbers didn't look as impressive as the previous one, as he "only" hit 25 home runs, but it was also the first year that he drew over a hundred walks, the first of a record 14 times in his career. He led the NL in wOBA with a mark of .396, the last year of his career where he would fail to eclipse the .400 mark in that category. He continued his sensational defense from the prior years, saving over 11 runs on defense and winning his second Gold Glove. It was another fantastic year, and the first of ten years that he would lead the National League in OBP, another record he holds. By all objective metrics, Bonds was by far the best position player in the National League again, and was second among all players in the NL in bWAR with 8.0, behind Tom Glavine with 9.2. However, in an embarrassing vote, the writers gave the MVP to Terry Pendleton (6.1 bWAR), the third basemen for the NL pennant-winning Atlanta Braves. Bonds and Glavine were both much more deserving, but this was just the first of many times that Barry would come up short in award-voting from the writers.
When 1992 came around, Barry Bonds was more or less regarded as the best player in baseball. He had put up phenomenal numbers two years in a row, had won the MVP and finished second, and won back-to-back Gold Gloves. There was seemingly nothing he couldn't do on the ballfield; his hitting was beyond reproach, and he was the best corner outfielder in the game. He had nothing left to prove. This was also shaping up to be his final year with the Pirates, as he had made clear he wouldn't be resigning with them. There was a fair amount of pressure from the team's perspective, however, as Pittsburgh had been defeated in consecutive seasons in the NLCS. Most everyone knew that this would be their final shot at a World Series for at least some time, so it would be up to Bonds to lead the team. So, just how did Barry perform with the weight of a franchise and its fans hanging on his shoulders? Well, try the finest hitting season the National League had seen since Willie McCovey's 1969 MVP campaign, 23 years in the past. It truly is difficult to describe Bonds's 1992 season in terms of hitting without veering into the insane hyperbole, but he was so dominant that it's almost impossible not to. For starters, there's his incredible triple slash line of .311/.456/.624, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. Bonds's 204 OPS+ and 198 wRC+ were the best in the NL by miles; his closest competition that year was Gary Sheffield, with a 168 OPS+ and 172 wRC+. If you take into account Barry's intentional walks (he led the majors with 32), his wRC+ increases to an amazing 209! He led the majors in both slugging and on-base percentage, and his OPS of 1.080 was also the highest in the NL after McCovey in 1969. He had an incredible 8.3 offensive WAR, and his batting runs (basically how many runs above average a hitter provides on his own) of 61 were way, way, way beyond what anyone else in the Senior Circuit did that year, with Sheffield again coming in second place with 47. He destroyed every other player in hitting, not just the NL, but the AL, too. Mark McGwire was second in the league in OPS+: he had a 176, or 13.8% lower than Bonds. Barry's bWAR of 9.0 was more than 1.2 ahead of second place Ryne Sandberg, and nearly a full 2 WAR beyond the AL leader, Kirby Puckett. He led both leagues in walks with 127, the first of eight times he would lead the majors in that category, second only to Babe Ruth. What's perhaps most incredible was his eye, as he only struck out 69 times on the year (after his rookie campaign, Bonds never struck out 100 or more times). This incredible season added up to a second MVP award, this time winning it over Pendleton. It probably should have been unanimous (although Greg Maddux did get more WAR than Bonds on the year, with 9.4), but for some reason, four writers gave it to Pendleton, and two of them deemed Sheffield as more deserving. Although it's difficult to call a season in which he won the MVP underrated, the appearance of disrespect by the baseball elite (i.e. the writers who voted on the awards) was obvious. In the postseason, Bonds and the Pirates would go on to lose a third straight time in the NLCS, and that would be the end of his time in Pittsburgh. He would return home to San Francisco, the city where his dad had shined, where his godfather had become a legend, and where Barry would feel $43.75 million dollars worth of expectations.
If 1992 had been Bonds's coming-out party where he announced himself as the premier hitter in baseball, 1993 would be the year in which he so separated himself from all others that there should have been a different league to where he could have gone: the man was too good, too dominant, that it was truly unfair. Neither leagues had seen such a force of nature run roughshod through pitching since Mickey Mantle back in the mid-50s. In the batter's box, Bonds was truly without equal: he led the majors with 46 home runs (Juan Gonzales also hit 46 for the Rangers that same year), the first time in his career that he had earned such an honor. His slash line of .336/.458/.677 looks like it came out of an MLB The Show season on Rookie Mode. He had a 1.136 OPS, the highest the NL had seen since Stan Musial back in 1948. His OPS+ of 206 was an incomprehensible 53 points ahead of second-place in the NL, Mike Piazza's 153 mark. He had a wRC+ of 193, and again, if you include his league-leading 43 intentional walks, it shoots up to 207, besting Piazza's mark of 156. For the first (and only) time in his career, he led both the AL and NL in total bases with 365 (the reason for his only leading the league in that metric one time is simple: walks are not included). His slugging percentage of .677 was 45 points higher than Juan Gonzalez's .632, and 75 more than the NL runner-up, Andres Galarraga. His OBP of .458 was 28 points ahead of the second-best in the Senior Circuit, and his OPS, my goodness that OPS. He was 64 points better than the AL leader John Olerud, more than 100 above third-place finisher Frank Thomas, and an incredible 134 points ahead of the Galarraga, who finished second behind Barry in the NL. When it comes to WAR, no one could touch him: Bonds's bWAR of 9.9 was over a full win above the AL leader Ken Griffey Jr's mark of 8.8. No other NL hitter had a WAR greater than 7.0 (which Mike Piazza recorded). Just think about that for a sec: Barry Bonds was basically 30% better than the second-best position player in the NL, a monumental gap. He had over 73 batting runs, with the next-best player at 64 (John Olerud). Those figures are impressive enough in their own right, but to truly grasp how absurdly exceptional Bonds's 1993 was, you have to look at it from a historical perspective. Among all 8,238 qualified seasons of NL hitters, his 1993 ranks 11th in OPS+, 11th in modified wRC+ (I just take wRC+ and calculate again, this time adding intentional walks), and an astounding 8th in intentional walks. In all those categories, he ranks in the 99.9th percentile. Bonds wrought destruction across all who faced him, and that year, he took home his third MVP award, and second in a row. He should have been unanimous (although pitcher Jose Rijo had 10.1 WAR on the season, starting pitchers never seriously contended in that time), but somehow, four voters decided that Lenny Dykstra, with his OPS+ of 144 and sub-.500 SLG, deserved it over Bonds. Even with those four voters notwithstanding, no serious person doubted who the best player was after that season. Bonds was beyond everyone at this point, and it wasn't close to being close.
Let's take just a minute to reflect on what exactly Bonds did from 1990-1993. In the four years since his destruction of NL pitchers had begun (Interleague play in the regular season had not yet started, and wouldn't commence until 1997), Bonds had accumulated 138 homers, 217 batting runs, 453 walks, 115 intentional walks, slashed .310/.433/.595, and had an OPS+ of 185. In all those categories except home runs, he led not just the National League, but the American as well. His bWAR during that time was 36.7, which bested the next highest total by almost 10! (Ken Griffey Jr. had 26.9.) He averaged 9.4 bWAR and 9.7 fWAR per 650 plate appearances, the best by miles over any other player in the game. He had won three MVP awards in a four year stretch; no one had ever won four MVPs, and Bonds was only 28 and coming off one of the greatest seasons of all-time. In that timeframe, his lowest OPS+ was 160, lowest bWAR was 8.0, and his lowest OBP and SLG was .406 and .514. Any of those figures would be career years for almost every other player in history, and those were Barry's worst years during that stretch! For reference, the best seasons of some of the most famous players of all-time didn't approach Barry's OPS+ during that stretch. Some of those notable names include Tony Gwynn, Pete Rose, Wade Boggs, Ernie Banks, Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Ken Griffey Jr., Paul Molitor, Robin Yount, Dave Winfield, and Ichiro Suzuki. To think that the best hitting seasons of those all-time greats were below a four-year average of Bonds just illustrates how improbably dominant he was during his prime, a prime that wasn't even close to over! Bonds had finished a four-year run that was among the greatest the game had ever seen. No one could touch his combination of rate dominance and total output, both traditional and sabermetrically. There were only two things that eluded him: postseason success, and adulation from the masses. In the coming five years, both would continue to evade the best player in the game, but his statistics would continue to outshine all others, and during that time, he would achieve a feat no one else could lay claim to.
1994 arrived on the heels of Bonds's transcendent 1992 and 1993 seasons. He was the best player the game had seen since Willie Mays, the greatest left fielder since Ted Williams, and the most feared hitter in the National League since Rogers Hornsby. There was nothing he could do on the field, and seemingly no force could stop him. In fact, pretty much the only thing Bonds had failed to accomplish was joining the illustrious 50 home run club, although with as much as he walked, especially intentionally, it wasn't really his fault that he hadn't eclipsed that mark: pitchers feared him like children fear the bogeyman. In many instances, managers thought the best way to pitch to Bonds was giving him four to the outside and hoping he wouldn't beat him on the basepaths (which he often did, as he stole 163 bases from 1990-1993 with a 78% success rate). Bonds had increased his power output in consecutive years, though, hitting career highs of 34 and 46 round-trippers leading into 1994. And during that season, Bonds reached a new level of home run prowess, finishing with 37 on the year, and averaging one homer for every 10.6 at bats, a record for him at the time. In fact, when the season was cut short in August due to a labor strike, Barry was on pace to eclipse 50 home runs for the first time in his career. The season ended after he had played 112 games, but in that time, he continued his dominance of the league. His totals were again phenomenal: 6.2 bWAR (on pace for 8.5 over 650 plate appearances, a 183 OPS+ (his third straight above 180), a slash line of .312/.426/.647, which was his fifth straight season of at least a .400 OBP. He led the NL in walks with 74 and intentional walks with 18, the third year in a row he claimed the top spot in that category. It was another banner year for the San Francisco star, one where in most years, he would be expected to at least heavily contend for the MVP. However, this year, aside from being famous for finishing without a postseason, was famous for the home run. Normally, if a hitter is on pace for over 50 home runs, that would be considered phenomenal, exceptional. Since 1965, the year Willie Mays hit 52, only two other players had cleared 50: George Foster in 1977 (52 home runs), and Cecil Fielder in 1990 (51 home runs). In a span of 28 seasons, it had only been done twice. However, in 1994, an incredible six players were on pace to have over 50 homers over a 162 game season: Matt Williams, Ken Griffey Jr., Jeff Bagwell, Frank Thomas, and Albert Belle. In the AL, Frank Thomas had an almost mythical slash line of .353/.487/.729, a 212 OPS+! Jeff Bagwell was even better, with figures of .368/.451./.750, a 213 OPS+! They both won MVP that year, Bagwell unanimously. It wasn't a bad decision either, because his 8.2 bWAR was a 2 full wins above Bonds. However, the fact that he was given all 28 first place votes, and that Barry had failed to win MVP unanimously in his three award-winning seasons, it's troublesome in hindsight, especially because Greg Maddux actually surpassed Bagwell in bWAR, with 8.7 in the shortened season. All in all, though, it was another fantastic season for Bonds, and he achieved an impressive milestone, becoming only the sixth player at the time to hit at least 250 home runs and steal 300 bases. This would not be the last time Bonds would make history with that set of stats, not by a long shot.
1995. Barry Bonds entered his age 30 season on the heels of a historic five-year stretch. Among every single position player with at least 1500 plate appearances from their age 25-29 seasons in MLB history, Bonds ranked 1st in intentional walks, 8th in OPS+, 8th in bWAR, 8th in walks, 9th in slugging, 10th in OPS, and 11th in batting runs. He had put up monumentally great numbers, ones not seen since Aaron and Mays and Mantle, and he was every bit as deserving to be considered as their equals during his run of dominance. However, for all the historic production he had accumulated and the company he was keeping among the titans of the game, there was now added pressure of having to do it year after year. In a sense, Barry could no longer just be the best in the game (he had proven that many times over the past half-decade), but he now had to keep pace with what he had already done in the past. Seeing as that past had shown him to be the best player since Willie Mays, well, that's about as immense of a burden as one can bear in the game of baseball. So, what did he do in 1995? Try leading the NL in OBP (.431), OPS (1.009), walks (120), and intentional walks (22). Try a 170 OPS+, 31 stolen bases, and a 7.5 bWAR (which led all NL position players). To recap, in 1995, Barry was either first or second in OBP, OPS, walks, intentional walks, OPS+, and WAR. To lead or contend for the lead in any one of those categories is awesome, and Bonds either finished first or runner-up in all of those categories. Even more incredible, this was arguably his worst year from 1990-1998! To be that dominant in an objectively subpar season for him is simply astounding. So, now onto the awards. In a vacuum, one would expect a season like what Bonds had in 95 to result in a finish at worst third or fourth in MVP voting, even if you factor in voter fatigue (Bonds had won three of the previous five times). The actual results were nothing short of an abomination, pure and simple. Barry Larkin (5.9 bWAR) ended up winning MVP, getting 11 out of the 28 total first-place votes. Dante Bichette (1.2 bWAR, where 2 is average) finished second. Greg Maddux (who should have won it that year, as he had a phenomenal 9.7 bWAR), the NL Cy Young winner that season, came in third. Bonds did not finish fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, or even eleventh! Barry Bonds, by far the best position player in the NL that year, finished 12th. He did not get a single first place vote. I would argue that it was the most embarrassing decision in the history of the BBWAA, an indefensible oversight and one that was probably driven by hurt feelings and jealousy on the part of the writers. Not since Ted Williams had a player been treated so poorly by the writers, and I wouldn't blame Bonds one bit if this was the turning point in his decision on whether or not to take PEDs (if he did choose to do so conscientiously). He had produced another terrific season, one in a long string of them, and to be so disrespected by those who granted the most prestigious honor in the game must have stung and enraged him deeply. Unfortunately for Barry, this would not be the only time that he would be monumentally slighted by the writers.
When ranking the best seasons of Barry Bonds's career up to 1998, 1996 has as good a claim as any to being his best. It's pretty remarkable, considering his unbelievable '90, '92, and '93 campaigns, and 1993 may have it beat, but there was no denying that in '96, Bonds was at the height of his powers. He had played a full ten years since his rookie campaign in 1986, and his last six years had been nothing short of complete and utter domination; there is a very good argument that he was worthy of the HOF with the minimum decade of playing experience. From 1986-1989, Bonds had slashed .256/.345/.458, which put his OPS+ at 124, while accumulating 84 homers, 117 stolen bases, and 23.5 bWAR. In the six years after that, Bonds had raised his slash line to a fantastic .286/.398/.541, good for a phenomenal 159 OPS+, in addition to getting 292 home runs, 340 stolen bases (while only being thrown out 103 times), and already having 74.0 bWAR (that is more total WAR than all but four left fielders). By bWAR, at the end of his age 30 season, he was above the HOF standard threshold for LFs in both total WAR, WAR7, and JAWS. He was a machine, and he was well-oiled and outstanding as ever in 1996, culminating in perhaps his best year offensively. Let's start with the elephant in the room: 40/40. That year, Barry became just the second player in MLB history to hit forty or more home runs and steal forty or more stolen bases. Jose Canseco was the first to do it in 1988, and both had the same figures for the pertinent: 42 homers, 40 stolen bases. They also had close batting averages, with Bonds hitting .308 and Canseco .307. However, that was where the similarities ended. Bonds had an incredible OBP of .461, the highest of his career to that point. That number is even more incredible when you consider that out of all 8,238 qualified seasons in National League history, it's 25th all-time adjusting for era, stupidly good. He also slugged over .600, finishing with a mark of .615, while his OPS+ was a terrific 188. It was the fourth time in a five-year stretch that he had eclipsed an OPS+ of 180; no other player had more than one season in that timeframe except for Mark McGwire, who had two of them. Perhaps most astounding was his colossal WAR of 9.7, the best in the National League by a mile and tying with Ken Griffey Jr. in the American League. For an amazing fifth consecutive year, Bonds led the National League in intentional walks with 30, and set a then NL record with an astonishing 151 walks, leading both leagues. However, what may be most impressive about that particular season was his offensive WAR, which came in at 8.9, breaking his previous career-high of 8.8 from 1993. He was also fantastic on defense, saving ten runs per Baseball-Reference, the fifth time of his career having done so. He was an all-around force, the most dominant player the National League had seen in thirty years (and objectively, a better hitter than Willie Mays). Bonds also became the fourth member of the 300/300 club, joining Willie, his father Bobby, and HOFer Andre Dawson. It was a magical year, both for his incredible single season, and the historic company he joined during it. It was a campaign that should have resulted in a unanimous MVP vote, solidifying it as one of the best seasons ever. However, just like 1995, the writers had other ideas. In a decision even worse than the year prior, Bonds did not win. He didn't even in the medal position. He came in fifth on the ballots, and to add even more insult to an already battered ego, Ken Caminiti (who had a great season with 7.6 bWAR, but way below Bonds's figure of 9.7) won all 28 votes, winning unanimously. To be as frank as possible, it was about as grotesque a decision by the writers as any ever had been (I put it on par with DiMaggio winning the MVP over Ted Williams in 1947). To have nothing short of a historically dominant season, and to be rewarded with not one first-place vote, well, it was embarrassing, and a stain upon that group. Bonds had never been better than that year, but for the second season in a row, a much lesser player was given the trophy over him. A man who had won three MVPs in four years now found himself unable to get any credit whatsoever. It seemed that there was nothing Barry could do to be justly rewarded by the voters.
By 1997, Barry Bonds had already established himself as a future hall of famer. He had morphed from defensive wunderkind in his first several years with Pittsburgh to the offensive juggernaut in San Francisco. Simply put, he was a baseball terminator, whose mission it was to seek out pitching and destroy it. The dude was playing on a whole other level than anyone else in the league, and he would continuing reigning as the preeminent offensive force that year. Sorry if it sounds like a broken record at this point, but for an amazing sixth straight year, Barry Bonds led the National League in intentional walks (his mark of 34 led the AL as well). For the fourth straight year, he led the NL in walks with 145, which just like his IBBs, were tops in the MLB as a whole. For the eighth straight year, Bonds had an OBP above .400, and for the sixth straight year, his OPS superseded 1.000. Bonds also had another great power season, with a .585 SLG and 40 homers, the first time he had hit forty bombs in consecutive years (though certainly not the only time in his career). His OPS+ was a fantastic 170, the sixth consecutive year reaching that mark. He also became the second member of the 300/400 club, joining his father, Bobby. Yet again, he had an 8 WAR campaign, finishing with 8.2 bWAR and 8.9 fWAR. His defense even improved in '97, when he saved 14 runs on that side of the ball. It was another great all-around season, one that would normally have him in contention for MVP. However, and this is probably the only time you can say this from 1990-1998 except for 1994, this time around, Bonds wasn't the best player in the National League. In fact, going by bWAR, there were three position players ahead of him, and one pitcher. They were, in order of WAR, Larry Walker (9.8), Craig Biggio (9.4), Pedro Martinez (8.8), and Mike Piazza (8.7). All three had as good or better seasons than Bonds, but when you stop and think that in an eight-year stretch of full seasons, that this was only one of two seasons in which Bonds could not legitimately lay claim to the best NL position player, it really demonstrates how insanely productive and dominant during that run. Think about it: this was a "bad" season for Barry, and he still got 8.2 bWAR and 8.9 fWAR, which would be career-bests for almost any other player in baseball history. In his "disappointing" year, Barry led his league in walks and intentional walks. He had a .446 OBP, putting him in the 98.9th percentile among all qualified NL seasons. His slugging percentage was poor for his standards, and it places him in the 95.3rd percentile ever. And while even the greatest hitters ever have been known to strike out, Bonds again had a relatively low 87 on the season: he rarely struck out, he hit the ball hard, and he got on base nearly 45% of the time. He had raised his career OPS+ to 162, which if he retired after that season, would have been fourth all-time in National League history, behind only Rogers Hornsby, Dan Brouthers, and Johnny Mize. He would have deserved first-ballot HOF status, with a slash line of .288/.408/.551, and he would have had 269 more walks than strikeouts and 260 intentional walks, which would put him third behind Stan Musial and Hank Aaron. Add to that 3 MVP awards, 91.8 bWAR, and 7 Gold Gloves (he should have had two more in 1987 and 1989), and you have a case for his being a top-15 position player ever, and the best NL hitter post-integration. It's a phenomenal resume, putting him among the best ever. The crazy part? Well, he was only 32, and still had plenty of terrific baseball ahead of him. And while the sabermetrics may not have supported 1997 Bonds being the best position player in the game, he would redeem himself on that end the following year. Unfortunately, that would also be the season where he would be so disrespected by the media that it would be the turning point of his career: his reputation would never be the same.
"The Summer That Saved Baseball" is more than a title to a book by two Stanford graduates about their travels to all 30 MLB ballparks: it was fact. The 1998 season was four years removed from the strike in 1994, from which baseball had failed to fully recover in the successive years. Bonds was doing all he could, producing season after season of excellence, but perhaps in part due to both his unpleasant outward demeanor and the writers alienating him from their awards, he never was appropriately recognized for his outstanding talents after he had won his third MVP back in 1993. He was by far the best position player in 1995 and should have won unanimously in 1996, but he wasn't give proper credit. It was almost like the writers were begging for another player or two to bestow praise on, so that they wouldn't have to credit their archenemy Barry Bonds. Well, they certainly got their wish in 1998, in the form of two slugging superheroes the likes of which game had never before seen: Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire. It didn't matter that they were using PEDs, that McGwire was so brazen about it that he kept it out in the open of his locker. It didn't matter that these guys were nowhere close to the player Bonds was, that Sosa struck out more than anyone and that McGwire played some of the worst defense in the game. It didn't matter that their combined WAR up to that point was over 22 fewer than what Bonds had individually accumulated in his illustrious career. What mattered to the sportswriters, those that heaped praise upon outlandish praise, describing their round trippers as the salvation of baseball, was that they weren't Barry Bonds. That was enough for them to concentrate almost exclusively on what these two men were doing, casting a blanket of willful ignorance to what Bonds was doing that year. It was Barry who became the inaugural member of the 400/400 club, a group that he will probably always have to himself. Bonds led the MLB in intentional walks with 29, the third straight year he could claim such a distinction. What else did he do? He had another 8 WAR season, the eighth time in his career he did so (and it would have been ten straight years had the season not been shortened in 1994 and 1995). He slugged .609 and had an OPS of 1.047, good for a 178 OPS+. He walked 130 times on the year and had his NINTH straight season of an OBP above .400, demonstrating just how consistently dominant he was at the plate. And in what was perhaps his most impressive accomplishment, even with all the PED-enhanced lab creations going out and slugging home runs, Bonds was first among NL position players in bWAR, the 7th time in 9 years he led his league in that category. There was a reason that he was walked with the bases loaded: he was the most feared hitter of his day, even when the writers refused to give him credit. That year, like the prior three, Barry did not receive one first-place vote. The MVP went to Chicago's Sammy Sosa, and Mark McGwire finished second with 2 first-place votes of his own. They both had a lower WAR than did Bonds, and Sosa's OPS+ was also beneath Bonds's. On a fair playing level, Bonds absolutely deserved it over both of them, but once again, he had been unfairly deprived of what he deserved. He would never again be played for a fool.
Every baseball fan knows the rest of the story. Barry Bonds (again, either intentionally or unintentionally) took PEDs and went on a four-year stretch that had never been done before and will undoubtedly never be done again. Including his 2000 season, Bonds hit 258 home runs and slashed .339/.535/.781 from 2000-2004. He averaged over 10 bWAR each season and led both leagues in OPS+ each year. He won four consecutive MVPs, ending his career with seven. He also paid an extremely heavy price, basically being blacklisted from baseball after 2007 and still having not been elected to the HOF. It's extremely tragic in that sense, because even before steroids, Barry Bonds dominated the game in a way that only Ruth, Williams, Mays, and Mantle had before him, and that only Trout has approached since. From 1990-1998, he led the MLB in the following categories: WAR (76.3), OPS+ (181), walks (1073), intentional walks (245), and batting runs (496.4). His averages from 1990-1998: .305/.438/.600 slash line, 181 OPS+, 36 home runs, 119 walks, 28 intentional walks, and 8.5 bWAR. His all-time rankings among NL hitters if he had retired after 1998? Try 3rd in Intentional Walk percentage, 5th in OPS+, 5th in wRC+, 5th in WAR/650 PAs, 5th in Walk percentage, 8th in OBP, and 13th in SLG. Barry Bonds was one of the 15 best players ever per-steroids; to pretend he needed them to ascend to the status of an inner-circle great is simply false. While Bonds may have not been the friendliest player during his day, and while he rubbed many the wrong way with his personality, it is impossible to deny what a force he was. He gave those of us who watched him and see his highlights the best baseball we've ever seen in our life, and we have to be grateful for that.
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