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MILWAUKEE -- They booed Barry Bonds when he was announced, and booed him every time he came to bat. Chants of "steroids, steroids" followed the slugger when he lumbered out to left field, where he was greeted with other chants that aren't as printable.

The normally genteel fans at Miller Park hadn't been this upset at an opposing player since Randall Simon took a baseball bat to a sausage racer a few years back.

That, of course, was personal. You don't mess with sausages in Brat City.

Booing Bonds, though, is rapidly becoming as much a baseball tradition as the seventh-inning stretch. Think Johnny Damon in a Yankees uniform in Fenway Park every night as Bonds brings his own personal road show to National League cities.

The best thing is you don't need to be loaded up on beer to do it because, unlike steroids, it comes naturally.

Just ask the 17,358 in attendance Wednesday night. Together, they had 17,358 reasons to hate Bonds.

Had they looked a little more closely, though, they might have found some reasons to offer him some love.

Since they didn't, we'll offer our own:

-- He gives us a TV show so awful that it makes viewers feel less guilty about enjoying more highbrow entertainment like "Dancing With The Stars" and "Elimidate." The weekly propaganda, er, reality show "Bonds on Bonds" serves a dual purpose by giving ESPN less time to air bass fishing and the ubiquitous poker tournaments.

-- He has an entertaining head. Sure, Babe Ruth's gut made it to first base 45 seconds before the Babe himself did, but Bonds' head has achieved national prominence in its own right. It came into play Wednesday night when Bonds was leaning against the batting cage and got hit in the head by a foul ball, a startling collision that the physicists will probably argue for years about.

-- He doesn't hold grudges. Bud Selig's office is a 10-minute drive from Miller Park, but Bonds didn't seem to mind that the baseball commissioner couldn't take time to come and see him attempt to break Ruth's home run mark. Bonds defended Selig, which seemed kind of humorous because Selig is the one who opened an investigation into his alleged steroid use. Then again, maybe Bonds knows more about the eventual outcome of that alleged investigation than we do.

-- He's quick in the batter's box. If you've ever watched a four-hour baseball game, you've got to appreciate the way Bonds gets into the box and does his business. No taking four or five practice swings outside the box. No pulling at batting gloves, adjusting pants, or spitting between pitches. Bonds just waggles the bat and dares the pitcher to throw. It's a good thing, because he takes forever to circle the bases.

-- He doesn't disappoint autograph seekers. They come to the stadium already knowing Bonds will blow them off.

-- He's committed to medical research. While America's top drug conglomerates were busy trying to lower cholesterol and improve people's sex lives, Bonds took it upon himself to discover the potential health benefits of flaxseed oil. His willingness to advance the cause of a more healthy America saved the lives of an estimated 1,263 lab rats a year.

-- He's encouraging the use of dictionaries at a time when they've gone out of style. Asked before the game whether pitchers are challenging him more, Bonds said:

"What do you call a challenge? Define your word challenge."

Uh, as in being pitched up and in, Barry?

"Up and in is not a challenge. When you figure out the definition of challenge, then I'll answer your question."

-- He's an advocate of the American legal system. His child support case with a former wife is now case law in California, but that wasn't enough for Bonds. He's a real legal beagle, going to court a few weeks ago in an effort to protect the grand jury system. The fact that it happened the day the book "Game of Shadows" was released had to be a coincidence.

-- He preaches the truth, or at least the truth according to Barry. Why, before the game against the Brewers, he even preached some in the locker room. No one would mistake it for a revival meeting, but Bonds cleansed the souls of a lot of misguided reporters who have written nasty things about him.

"That's OK, though. I respect you anyway," Bonds told the ink-stained wretches. "I forgive you every day. I forgive all of y'all that write nasty things about me. And I pray for all of you all. I hope nothing ever happens to you.

"That's the truth, that's from the bottom of my heart. One day you'll believe me."

Bonds doesn't really need reporters to believe him. But there's a federal grand jury in San Francisco that might worry him some.

The No. 1 reason to like Bonds, though, is he gives fans a chance to have fun. The below-average crowd in Milwaukee sure did, and as the innings went on and the beer flowed the chants got more creative.

Bonds didn't seem to mind. He simply went about his business as usual.

After all, he proved earlier that he has a hard head.

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Tim Dahlberg is a national sports columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at tdahlberg@ap.org

Copyright 2006 by The Associated Press

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