SAN FRANCISCO.  If you thought the Barry Bonds steroid scandal couldn't get any weirder, think again.  The San Francisco Giants today announced that Bonds is pregnant.

Bonds: "The sonogram came back fine."

"He took too much Clomid for too long," said the team's chief internist Dr. Anthony Saglimbeni.  "Father and child will be fine as long as Barry gets enough flaxseed oil."

Conte: "I guess you could say I'm the daddy!"

Clomid is a female fertility drug that Bonds used at the recommendation of Victor Conte, owner of the BALCO lab where the slugger allegedly took steroids.  Clomid helps the body recover its natural ability to produce testosterone, and is believed to mask the presence of steroids.

Bell:  "It'll be a Jack 'n Jill shower."

Kimberly Bell, the former girlfriend who is writing a tell-all book about Bonds, said she plans to throw a baby shower for the man who is major league baseball's all-time home run king if he doesn't go to jail first.  "He won't be able to fit into his clothes soon," she said with a playful smile, "once his body catches up with the size of his head."

Boras:  "Mother, father and baby are doing just fine."

Bonds' agent, Scott Boras, said the child would be named "Samantha" if it is a girl and "Mark" if a boy.  "Barry was inspired to his prodigous feats by Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire's historic home run race in 1998," Boras said, "and it's just his way of saying 'Thanks'."

Boras wouldn't say who the father was, but others have their su####ions.  A reporter put the question to teammate Dave Roberts, who issued a testy denial.  "Don't look at me, man," he said.  "Barry screwed himself."

Copyright 2007, Con Chapman

SAN FRANCISCO.  Marine biologists have determined that giant squid caught off the coast of California in recent months have fed on discharge from Bay Area Laboratory Co-operative, a sports nutrition center tied to steroid abuse among professional athletes.

"Look at the back acne on this one!"

"We performed autopsies on some of them, which is a good reason not to become a marine biologist," said Paul Wolman, of the California Oceanic Institute.  "They were wearing a lot of bling and a few had eaten on-camera and print reporters who tried to interview them."

"Ohmigod--it's got Jon Miller in its mouth and is shaking him like a chew toy!"

Lifeguards report that humans have little to fear from the giant sea creatures, which can grow to a length of 13 feet in the case of females, and 10 feet in the case of males.  "You should stay clear of them, and try not to fall behind in the count," said Dave Leftwich, who patrols the beach at Laguna del Vista Mar Rey, California.  "Don't give them anything good to hit on the inside part of the plate."

Blue Cheer and Iron Butterfly:  You had to be stoned to appreciate them.

The Bay Area Laboratory Co-operative, or "BALCO", is located 17 miles south of San Francisco, and its proximity to that drug-tolerant city is cited as the link between the giant squid and illegal steroid use.  "These ten-foot creatures would slither into my store and ask if I had any Blue Cheer or Iron Butterfly albums," says Seth White, owner of the Hot Wax Used Record Store in San Francisco.  "I would tell them to just drop their money on the counter--I didn't want to touch the serrated rings on their tentacles when I gave them their change."

"A giant squid ate your kayak?  That like totally bites, man!"

More than a few of the squid are expected to be in attendance when Barry Bonds breaks Hank Aaron's home run in the days or weeks ahead.  "We know Barry from way back," said one.  "By comparison to us, he's really not that slimy."

Copyright 2007, Con Chapman

NEW YORK.  Barry Bonds has courted controversy in a variety of ways over the course of his career, but he underestimated the force of the reaction he's received after he called HBO announcer Bob Costas a "midget".

Eddie Gaedel and Bob Costas:  No comparison.

"Costas?  Please--don't make me laugh," said Rachel Wilner of the Little People of America, a group whose members include both midgets--short, normally-proportioned people--and disproportioned short persons or dwarfs.  "Maybe a mental midget if you're talking about 'Fair Ball'," a book by Costas, she added with contempt.

Bonds' comment came in response to an interview between Costas and Curt Schilling in which the Red Sox pitcher said Bonds' refusal to address accusations of steroid use was tantamount to an admission of guilt.  Logic-Impaired Americans, which provides support to individuals whose cognitive skills prevent them from making sense, came to Bonds' defense.  "Barry has a right to confuse the message and the messenger," said James Robinson, the group's executive director.  "Those two words share many of the same letters." 

"I'm sorry, okay?  I didn't mean to compare you to Bob Costas."

While Eddie Gaedel--a midget sent to bat as a member of the St. Louis Browns by owner Bill Veeck--holds a hallowed place in baseball history, there has never been a midget broadcaster, and Bonds issued a press release to clarify his comment.  "I did not mean, nor did I intend to suggest or imply, that Bob Costas could ever qualify as a midget.  I regret any offense I have given to any actual midget."

Marvin "Bad News" Barnes

Costas began his career as play-by-play announcer for the Spirits of St. Louis, an American Basketball Association team led by Marvin "Bad News" Barnes, the 1975 ABA Rookie of the Year who once composed the following limerick about Julius Erving on the eve o####ame between the Spirits and the New York Nets.

Bad News Barnes and Dr. J.

There once was a doctor named Erving,
Whose slam dunks were especially unnerving,
But when Marvin gets movin',
And the crowd gets to groovin',
For the Doctor a hospital bed they'll be reserving.

During his college career Barnes was suspended from the Providence College Friars after beating his roommate with a tire iron.  "News will be back," Barnes said at the time, "'cause his fans be demandin' it."

Spirits of St. Louis jersey

When reached for comment, Costas declined to respond to a question posed by a reporter for Gerbil Sports Network.  "Ooo--Mr. On-Line Journalist," he sneered.  "You started out writing about Barry Bonds, then got completely sidetracked with a stupid digression about Marvin Barnes.  You have the attention span of a chipmunk," he said before pausing.  "Actually, that means you're highly qualified to write a blog."

Copyright 2007, Con Chapman

MILWAUKEE, Wisconsin.  In a testy exchange with reporters today Major League Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig announced that he would try to attend the game in which Barry Bonds breaks Hank Aaron's career home run record, but could make no promises.  "I do have a day job," said Selig, who is general manager of Selig Pontiac-GMC, a car and truck dealership in Milwaukee.

"Bud, there's a Mr. Bonds for you on line 2."

Selig has been criticized for allowing players such as Bonds, Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire to use anabolic steroids in pursuit of greating slugging power, and sportswriters have speculated that he would avoid Bonds' record-breaking game in order to deflect attention from his role in baseball's biggest scandal since Charlie Finley put a mechanical rabbit behind home plate when he owned the Kansas City Athletics.

Kansas City's Municipal Stadium:  The rabbit is underground right now.

"Mr. Selig is a very busy man," said MLB spokesperson Melinda Albricht.  "On Mondays he and Mrs. Selig play bridge.  Tuesday nights he has meetings at his lodge, the Loyal Order of the Bratwurst."

Tuesday night lodge meetings are held here.

Selig does not currently schedule meetings or social events on Wednesday nights, according to Albricht.  "America's Got Talent has gone into Las Vegas Callbacks: Part 2, and Mr. Selig left strict instructions that he was not to be disturbed."

America's Sort-of Got Talent:  "Take me out to the ballgame, oh baby!"

The Seligs generally reserve Friday night to Sunday afternoon for family get-togethers, and on Sunday nights the commissioner likes to prepare for the coming work week by re-arranging his sock drawer.  "It can be very embarrassing if you wear blue socks with a brown suit to work on Monday," according to Milwaukee Chamber of Commerce President Lyle Walton.  "The guys will razz you about it for weeks."

"You look goofy in them socks."

But that, a reporter points out to Albricht, leaves Thursday nights open.  Would the commissioner be available if Bonds is on the threshold of history on that night?

Bowling night--not to be missed.

"I'm afraid not," she replies.  "That's his bowling night."

Copyright 2007, Con Chapman

SAN FRANCISCO.  Seven home runs away from breaking Hank Aaron's all-time record, Barry Bonds today admitted to reporters that he has taken steroids since 1998 as a result of poison ivy he contracted at a San Francisco Giants Family Outing.

"I wouldn't have a head like a pumpkin if it wasn't for your damn kid!"

"One of Jeff Kent's stupid kids threw a ball into the woods, and I went off and got it," Bonds said as numerous microphones recorded his words.  "My head swelled up that night 'cause I guess I touched my face, and topical ointments didn't help."

Typical facial swelling caused by poison ivy; your results may vary.

As Bonds' condition worsened, he said, his slugging power increased to the point where he accidentally broke the single-season home run record in 2001 with seventy-three dingers.  "I couldn't help myself, man," Bonds said with a note of hitter's remorse in his voice.  "If coach told me to sacrifice, I'd do my best but the damn balls would just fly out of the park."

Poison ivy.

Poison ivy has worsened with global warming, as rising ambient carbon-dioxide levels create ideal conditions for the plant's growth.  When a reporter cited a Wall Street Journal article to this effect, Bonds enthusiastically concurred.  "Yeah, you tell that to Bud Selig," he said angrily.  "It's not my fault, it's global warming."

Joe E. Brown in Ring Lardner's "Alibi Ike"

While most routine cases of poison ivy rash can be treated with topical lotions, steroids are the only effective method of reducing severe swelling.  "What you are seeing in the case of Barry Bonds is an alibi artist at the peak of his powers," said Sporting News editor Frank Parker.   "Not since Ring Lardner's 'Alibi Ike' has anyone been able to shift blame like Barry."

Masonic Lodge, full regalia.

Bonds concluded his press conference by suggesting that the Masons, El Nino and other factors beyond his control were to blame for his sudden surge in power production over the last nine years.  "Don't blame me when I break that record," he said as he headed into the club house.  "It was cracked before I touched it."

Copyright 2007, Con Chapman

NEEDHAM, Mass.  In this quiet suburban town west of Boston, fathers bring their kids to Great Plain Avenue on Saturday mornings to buy, sell and trade baseball cards at two competing dealers situated across the street from each other.  "It's great fun for my boys, and it brings back memories for me," says Jim Wolfson, a mutual fund accountant.

Needham Town Hall

Beneath the surface of those innocent transactions federal regulators see a serious threat to the American economy, however, one that could cause the bull market of the past few years to come to a crashing halt if the prices of basic commodities such as sports memorabilia were to fall.  "You have small, loosely-regulated card shops piling on debt in complex derivative transactions," says Timothy Schwermer, president of the Federal Reserve Bank of Baltimore.  "It wouldn't take much--a career-ending injury to Ken Griffey, Jr. or Barry Bonds going to jail--for the whole market to collapse."   

The use of leverage enables small, suburban card dealers to dramatically increase their gains from seemingly mundane transactions.  "I had a kid come in here last weekend who wanted to dump all his Nomar Garciaparra stuff," says Paul ####, owner of Needham Sports  Cards, "everything from a rookie card to footie pajamas."  With the help of a Boston investment bank, #### was able to borrow $125 on just $10 worth of collateral--a Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd bobble-head doll--to complete the purchase.

"Oil Can" Boyd:  "Why'd he call me a bobble-head?"

Omaha billionaire Warren Buffett explains that, if the value of either Garciaparra or Boyd as a long-term play drops, #### will face a "margin call" in which he will be required either to sell the Garciaparra holdings, causing the value of his purchase to drop further as supply increases, or post additional collateral.  "I'm tempted to explain the concept by making a joke using Mr. Boyd's nickname," Buffett warned, "but this is a serious topic and I'm essentially a humorless man."

"Bud Selig gave this to me."

Mr. Wolfson, the accountant, says he is protecting his boys' investment through a complex series of hedging transactions that will offset any decrease in the value of their holdings by a forward purchase of Eurodollars, Texas light crude oil and Star Wars-themed Colgate toothpaste tubes.

"In any period when you have deflation of asset values," he notes, "there's always a flight to quality."

Copyright 2007, Con Chapman

Baseball fans opened their newspapers this morning to learn that a federal indictment of Barry Bonds on charges of perjury or tax evasion or both is imminent.  Bonds' attorneys will fight until his last dollar is gone, mucking up the sports pages with legal jargon and spoiling the innocence of T-ballers across the nation.

"Daddy," little Timmy asks.  "What's a plea bargain?"

And all the while, the guilty go free.  You know who I'm talking about.  The team that, for forty-three years, has disgraced major league baseball by donning clothes that no self-respecting professional athlete should wear, even behind closed doors.

I am referring to the Oakland A's, and their green, gold and white uniforms.

Oakland was famously described by expatriate poet Gertrude Stein with the put-down "There's no there there."  After a cup of coffee in the major leagues of literature, Stein has been sent back to the minors, but her aesthetic judgment is still solid, at least when it comes to the A's uniforms.   There's no there there, only a why, or maybe a whatthehell.

For the record, the A's have been around for 105 years, and have worn the green and gold for less than half of that period.  In 1963, Charles O. Finley, the owner of the then-Kansas City Athletics, decided to change the team's colors to Kelly Green, Fort Knox (or Finley) Gold and Wedding Gown White.  Four years later, he went further, replacing the standard black polish on the team's cleats with white.  That color combo remains in effect today, making the A's look like a bowling team that took a wrong turn on their way back to the bar and wandered out into the bright light of day.

Finley was responsible for other dubious innovations, all adopted in an effort to boost attendance for a losing team in a small market.  He installed  a mechanical rabbit named "Harvey" (after the imaginary rabbit in the Jimmy Stewart movie of the same name) behind home plate to deliver new balls to the ump.  You can count on the fingers of one hand the number of major league stadiums that currently feature the rabbit-o-matic ball service--if you're a one-armed man.

He put goats beyond the outfield fence in left field at Kansas City's Memorial Stadium to eat the grass.  He adopted a live mule--"Charlie-O"--as a mascot, and once brought it into the press room to annoy reporters after it had recently been fed.  In order to keep FoxSports.com free of inappropriate content, I will leave the rest of this incident to your imaginations.

Finley eventually moved the team to Oakland and turned it around, producing three straight World Series from 1972 to 1974.  He sold the team in 1981, but his legacy of lunacy lives on in those green and gold uniforms.  The team's mascot appears on the sleeves of their jerseys as a green elephant, thereby obscuring a part of baseball history.

The Athletics' original mascot--a white elephant--is pictured above.  The team acquired that nickname when John McGraw remarked that John Shibe and Connie Mack "had a White Elephant on their hands" when they bought the Philadelphia Athletics with the intention of competing against the Phillies, their cross-town rivals in the National League.  A white elephant, for those unfamiliar with a slang term that has fallen into disuse, refers to an item that once acquired is hard to get rid of.  (Tag sales were often referred to as "white elephant" sales by shoppers from generations past.)

Finley's color scheme violates aesthetic principles that can be traced back to the ancient Greeks.  As Aristotle noted in his Poetics, "It is essential when choosing the clothing to be worn by a group of athletes that one not make them appear as if they are a slow-pitch softball team.  Also, no vertical-striped socks like the AFL Denver Broncos."

So consider this a call to re-examine baseball's priorities.  Performance-enhancing drugs may represent the ugly side of a baseball player's will to win, but at least you can't see them when you turn on your TV.  The A's uniforms have got to go.

Copyright 2006, Con Chapman

MILWAUKEE, Wisconsin.  Major League Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig told reporters here today that he won't jump to conclusions about Barry Bonds, even though the slugger's use of performance-enhancing drugs has become common knowledge with the publication of excerpts from Game of Shadows, a book by two San Francisco Chronicle reporters.

"In fairness to Barry and to my own reputation, I have decided to avoid making a decision for as long as I possibly can," Selig said in answer to reporters' questions as he entered his auto dealership here.  The hardback edition of the book costs $26, and Selig said he would wait until a cheaper paperback version became available. 

Game of Shadows is due to hit stores on March 27th, but excerpts from the book by Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams have already appeared in Sports Illustrated.  Charles Nichols, a spokesman for MLB, said Selig's subscription to the magazine had lapsed and would not be renewed until the Green Bay Packers won the Super Bowl again.  "If the Packers win he'd renew to get one of those cool commemorative footballs, but until then, no way." 

Selig is notoriously tight with money, and is often seen stuffing his pockets with condiments at fast food restaurants.  "We've had to talk to him about it more than once," said Allen Wingate, manager of a Popeye's Chicken franchise in Milwaukee.  "He takes paper towels back to his dealership and puts them in the restrooms."

For his part, Bonds said he wouldn't answer questions about the book and didn't intend to read it.  "It took two guys to write that ####," Bond's said bitterly.  "One's named 'Lance', the other has two last names, and they're from San Francisco," he added.  "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Copyright 2006, Con Chapman

SCOTTSDALE, Arizona   On a day when new revelations of Barry Bonds' use of performance-enhancing drugs made headlines, a historian hired by Bonds counterattacked, claiming he has discovered evidence that Babe Ruth also ingested foreign substances.

"Babe Ruth is an American icon," Edward Pollock said, "but he's no better than Barry when it comes to things he put in his mouth."

The substances Ruth used to boost his performance?  "Beer and hot dogs," Pollock said as he replayed a scene from Pride of the Yankees in which the Sultan of Swat, playing himself, is seen wolfing down hot dogs and swilling beer.

Bonds has 708 career round-trippers and is chasing Ruth, who is number two on the all-time home run list with 714.  Hank Aaron is first with 755. 

When Pollock was asked why he considered beer and hot dogs to be performance-enhancing substances, he played a tape of office picnic softball games from around the country in which beery men in shorts blasted monster shots using metal bats.  "These guys are in terrible shape, and look how far they hit the ball!" Pollock said.  "Their diet must have something to do with it."

Pollock said benzoates, nitrates and sulphites in hot dogs enabled Ruth to become the most feared power hitter of his time.  Lynn Ohrlich, a spokesman for the Baseball Hall of Fame, disagreed, noting that these additives were not used until the late 1940s, long after Ruth had retired.

Pollock's previous works have included histories of synagogues, fraternal organizations and liberal arts colleges, but never a sports figure.  When reporters told Bonds they were skeptical of Pollock's conclusions, he lashed out angrily.  "That really hurts, man," he said.  "I paid the guy fifty bucks."

Copyright 2006, Con Chapman

SAN FRANCISCO.  When Barry Bonds returns to the Giants next season, he promises that fans will see a player who's friendlier and more accessible.

"Barry's changed," said agent Jeff Borris.  "He's thinking about his legacy.  He doesn't want to be remembered as the guy who ballooned his head up to the size of pumpkin just so he could improve his slugging percentage."

Bonds spent time visiting children's hospitals while he was on the disabled list this past season, and he claims the experience made him a better man.

"Those kids, it meant a lot to them to talk to somebody as great as me," Bonds said with a lump in his throat as his eyes misted up.  "They know how much I'd charge to do an autograph show, and they appreciate it."

So can we expect the Giants' slugger to promise home runs to bed-ridden children, as Lou Gehrig did in "Pride of the Yankees"?

"It depends," says Bonds.  "Lotta clubs won't pitch to me with men on base.  How am I gonna come through when that happens?"

Bonds is thinking of a novel approach--a sliding scale depending on the nature and severity of a child's ailment.

"Most kids, best I can promise them is they'll get an intentional walk.  That oughta take care of minor stuff like broken bones.  For an appendicitis, maybe I'd give 'em a sacrifice fly."

And for the more serious cases?  "I don't know, when Barry hits a dinger it's a very special thing," his agent points out.  "We're reserving those for corporate sponsorships, like 'This Barry Bonds home run was brought to you by Gold Bond Powder, your best defense against jock itch.'  Something like that."

Borris says children ought to be happy with singles for hospital visits of one week (five days if over a weekend) and extra base hits for illnesses involving a longer in-patient stay unless insurance pays for a private room.  Anything else, the agent says, is a la carte.

"I've got to think of my family first," Bonds said, deferring to Borris's judgment on a financial issue.  "I ain't no Dusty Baker, putting his kid on the field where any damn nut sliding into home can take him out."

Copyright 2005, Con Chapman