MLB Confirms it Has the Worst Social Media Game on Earth With a Glowing Tribute to Barry Bonds
Tone deafness: having or showing an obtuse insensitivity or lack of perception particularly in matters of public sentiment, opinion, or taste --Miriam-Webster
There's a trope that's common on the Listicle sites - and is therefore probably 97% bullshit - of old people hilariously not understanding how to use the internet. With examples like Aunt Doris typing "put my christmas pictures here" on Facebook or grandpa texting his granddaughter good luck for her big test, followed by some Chaturbate search he just did. And it's funny because olds are so stupid!
Well you can forgive a loved one for clumsily misusing a technology that wasn't invented until they were approaching the 17th green of life. What excuse does Major League Baseball have? A multi-billion dollar conglomerate that has been in operation in one capacity or another for over 150 years. And presumably with a full staff of creators who's only job is to provide content to their 11.4 million followers on X, thereby ... wait for it ... growing the game. Who decided to honor Black History Month by paying tribute to Barry Bonds like he's a favorite son. A beloved member of the MLB family whom they hold dear in their warm, loving embrace.
Baseball has its issues, without a doubt. And to it's credit, they've addressed some of the big ones with pitch clocks and limited pick off throws. But this one Tweet (I've just decided I'm going to use X and Twitter as synonyms and use whichever one fits better in the sentence) sums up MLB's biggest remaining problem.
Which is MLB. Specifically, MLB still taking itself way too seriously.
On the one hand, the way it still clings to its golden past with a death grip. That Ken Burns wing of the party, obsessed with sepia-toned photos of crowds wearing ties and straw hats. Black and white footage of the legends of the game. Of course still trying to measure everyone - such as Barry Bonds - by their numbers. Like there's any connection between his 1.051 OPS and, say, Cy Young's 511 wins. Even worse, the flowery prose from the likes of Doris Kearns Goodwin and George F. Will about how baseball is the story of America. Or how it's a metaphor for life or whatever. As the great Dan Jenkins (strictly a golf and college football guy) once put it, "I never understood how people can talk about baseball that way since I've never once met a baseball player who could finish a sentence without using the word 'cunt.'"
Worse still though, is the fact MLB should be totally justified in posting a Tweet honoring Barry Bonds. Except they've spent the last 25 years or more trying to pretend he doesn't exist. Or if he does, it's only as a stain on the otherwise pristine history of their glorious game. He's been on the Hall of Fame ballot so long that he's about to run out of eligibility. Because the baseball writers who vote are every bit the self-righteous, self-important, gatekeeping scolds as the people who run the leagues. And have taken what used to be one of the truly fun arguments every year - who deserves to get in and who doesn't - into the most tedious, preachy, and mind-numbingly exhausting topics in the world. The PED conversation makes the whole subject sound like cable news show where they're debating a vote on raising the debt ceiling. You can't reach for the clicker fast enough.
But this is the corner baseball has painted itself into. They've taken a guy who shattered the record book and turned him into a paraiah. But still they're so stupidly ham-fisted with the way they market the game they want to pay him adoring tribute when it suits their needs. And understandably get dragged for it:
To be clear, I say all of this as no fan of Bonds. I have no doubt he's a dick. I heard an interview with Sean McDonough once where he was asked who's the worst person he's ever had to cover. He said he's not sure who his No. 2 would be, but hands down Bonds is his No. 1. Nor do I doubt that for the last six years or so of his career he was one injection away from winning the Triple Crown. Of thoroughbred racing.
But so what? Where exactly is the standard? Why send him into exile across the frozen Gotham River, but keep honoring others who probably were hopped up on goofballs as well? Including the pitchers he hit most of those 762 homers off of? With induction into Cooperstown. Ceremonial first pitches. Retired numbers. And yes, gushing fanboy posts on X. (See? Told you.)
All of which draws a big yellow highlighter through MLB's need to lighten up, quit taking itself so seriously, quit pretending the PED guys never existed, and above all, figure out its social media game. It's 2024 now, and the other sports have been kicking baseball's dick in the dirt in this area for 20 years or more. Grow up.