Why Aaron's Record Was Historic, And Bonds' Isn't

Selena Roberts at the Times writes a convincing column reminding readers why Hank Aaron's passing of Babe Ruth in 1974 was so important to the country and the game. His achievement was as much about athletic accomplishment as it was about race and integration.

It was, of course, a reminder that until 1947, African-Americans could not play in Major League Baseball. So, when Aaron eclipsed Ruth in career home runs the nation had to wonder what early baseball history would have been like were it integrated.

Bonds doesn't carry such historic weight as he passes Aaron this month; the only weight he carries is that of the steroids scandal that has polluted baseball for the past 15 years. He has approached this "record" with a sense of entitlement, and talk of hitting "mechanics." Roberts' argues that the 1974 record should continue to carry historical primacy:

A record alone wasn’t swiped, but also a time and a place and a belief linked to Aaron that will now be supplanted by a high-def vision of Bonds as the Home Run King.

Out with April of ’74. In with August of ’07. Out with the famous replay of Aaron that binds Baby Boomers and Gen Xers to a social transition in American history. In with an image of toy syringes and Magic Marker asterisks and steroid chants that tie disillusioned baseball fans to Bonds’s protesters, who, oddly enough, would ransack a nun’s habit to grab a homer by the antihero.

In with Bonds, who takes without feeling debt service to the game. Out with Aaron, who gave knowing what he meant to the game.

Different men, different worlds. The night Aaron passed Babe Ruth, with No. 715 in Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, the home run unfolded on television just as chromatic dials became a regular feature on Zeniths.

Black and white was so ’60s, except in skin tones. Aaron received nearly a million pieces of mail during his pursuit, many of them containing death threats and salutations that began with the word “Dear” and a racial slur. Where else could he be more vulnerable to racists than in a batter’s box with walls made of chalk? But where else could his visibility have so strongly conveyed respect as an equal opportunity?

The visual of Aaron’s courage maintains its meaning. Always will. But as that reel is tucked into film vaults, as the new clips are loaded with Bonds as the symbol of grandeur instead of Aaron, the next generation will lose out on a ’70s scene that remains a necessary education.

Two Players, but Only One True King - The New York Times