So here we are. History is staring us dead in the eye as Barry Bonds slugs his way to the great halls of immortality.

Historians and baseball traditionalists have decided that his pursuit of the all-time homerun record should be asterisk-laced due to the fact he MIGHT have taken steroids.

Of course, in this wonderful country of ours, you are innocent until proven guilty. But if a bloody glove and a pair of Bruno Magli shoes have taught us anything, it's that you shouldn't let evidence and facts get in the way of a good story.

Sure Bonds has bulked up faster than David Banner after someone pulls the "stop short" on a California freeway. But the fact remains that although steroids were deemed illegal by the U.S. government, Major League Baseball had no rules prohibiting its use.

In other words, if it ain't a rule, then it ain't unruly. (Didn't Yogi Berra say that in an Aflac commerical?)

Look, does anyone cry bloody murder when actors and actresses have cholonics in order to appear thinner on the red carpet? You don't hear housewives screaming at Cameron Diaz for looking so freggin' hot at the Oscars. But yet, the entertainer did what they had to do in order to keep up with popular culture.

What about when models are airbrushed in magazine ads? People, they don't really look like that. I mean, we accept it and leave the image in our minds for days, even weeks on end. Granted for some lonely guys out there, they've kept the same image of Latoya Jackson with a snake around her neck for the past 20 years. But to each his own.

The point is, entertainers do what they have to do to keep up with the joneses.

Here's another example: everytime a blockbuster movie comes out, it gains the title of highest grossing movie of all time, blah blah blah. Well, where the hell is the asterisk there? The price of movie tickets goes up every month. Of course Titanic is going to be better than anything from the 1960s. The tickets are a bagillion-times more expensive. (I'm not really sure if a bagillion is more than a gagillion, but you know what I'm driving at.)

The long and the short of it is, times change and so do the ways we measure greatness. It's all relative to the times we live.

Wilt Chamberlain scored 100 points in a game. You don't think Kobe or Lebron or even Earl Boykins could score 100 points against those slow white guys with minimal lateral movement? Come on, people. You have to stop kidding yourselves. One killer cross-over dribble and Chip would have to get carried off the court with snapped ankles.

You think those part-time electricians and plumbers were in peak physical condition to consistently throw 92 mph-inside fastballs to Babe Ruth? Of course not! They played baseball part-time, then they'd run out and fix busted pipes in order to feed their children.

I don't think we'll see Arthur Rhodes leaving the park and head over to some lady's house to fix her toilet.

Not to mention he's not tired after the game. He's a relief specialist that might get one inning of work every other day. Probably goes into the weight room and works out afterward. He has trainers and special coaches that help him get better each time out.

So is there an asterisk after a Ruth homer that was hit off a pitcher that was 100lbs overweight, just got off the nightshift at the A&P and hadn't thrown a baseball in 4 days?

Deal with it, people. Bonds can hit. He hits the ball hard and he hits the ball deep. There ain't no cream, no clear and no plumber that can change that.