Gonzo: In a bubble by the bay

SAN FRANCISCO - The world is full of heroes and villains. Barry Bonds somehow qualifies as both.

Nationally, Bonds was long ago dismissed as a Giant caricature, a PED-popping phony who refuses to abandon his ridiculous charade and cop to what everyone already knows.

Locally, the opinion is different. The Giants could have picked anyone to throw out the first pitch of the first National League Championship Series game held here since 2002. Willie Mays. Will Clark. The guy whose name was lent to the cove with all the kayaks.

The organization chose Bonds instead. That says a lot - not just about what Bonds still means to the franchise but about the kind of reception the team anticipated he would receive from San Francisco.

Giants fans didn't disappoint. The orange-and-black clad lemmings plunged one after the other off the embarrassment cliff Tuesday.

As Bonds walked onto the field at AT&T Park before San Francisco's disheartening 3-0 Game 3 win, he was greeted with an impossibly warm welcome. The crowd rose and clapped as though it was hailing a conquering war hero who had just returned from fighting fascists overseas.

Some people think the natives are numb or maybe clueless to what Bonds represents. They aren't. They know full well how Bonds is perceived outside the Bay Area, and they're equally aware of how supporting him makes them look. They understand that he was chemically enhanced and then accused of lying about his conduct to a grand jury. They get it. They just don't care.

It was a remarkable thing to behold - tens of thousands of people applauding a man who's much more than a common cheat. Bonds has become the symbol of everything that was wrong with baseball during a ridiculous two-decade stretch that went from scandalous to sad to an SNL-worthy sketch comedy skit. The only thing that could have made Bonds' laughable public denial about taking steroids funnier was if he had joined Sammy Sosa, Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmeiro and the rest of the finger-wagging stooges when they went to Washington to testify before Congress.

Aside from being comical, there's something tragic and ugly about Bonds - defiant and smug, even in the face of an ongoing perjury prosecution - being the game's all-time home run leader. Of all the inmates hypothetically housed in Baseball's Alcatraz, Bonds is among the most infamous - right up there with the Black Sox, Pete Rose, and the rest of the cons on Cell Block D (for disgraced). And yet even the wicked have loyal supporters. If Bonds ever ends up on the inside for real, he'll have no trouble finding someone to bake a cake with a file in it.

But here's the interesting part: Collectively, San Fran fans are clearly behind Bonds. It's classic strength-in-numbers behavior. But separate one or two from the pack, get them alone, and suddenly Bonds becomes a guilty pleasure everyone denies. I stopped scores of Giants fans on Tuesday, and no one would openly confess to backing Bonds. Apparently all that cheering didn't actually happen. You and I and the national TV audience must have imagined it.

My favorite exchange was with a mid-20s surfer type with a mop of shaggy blond hair and a bright orange Giants T-shirt:

Are you a Barry Bonds fan?

"Oh yeah," he said.

You've always supported him?

"Yup."

And you cheered for him today?

"Big time."

Great. I work for The Inquirer. Can I get your name?

"Uh . . . I'd rather not."

Why?

"I know he's a cheat, and I know how you're going to make it sound," he said. "I mean, people are going to read this, right?"

Hopefully.

"Yeah, like I said, I'd rather not then."

It's a shame. San Francisco is a beautiful city, a real-world paradise with stunning vistas - and it's wasted on people who can't get enough Bonds and MC Hammer and, even worse, can't bring themselves to admit it.

Guess which Philly TV personality came to Game 3 toting a man purse/murse/European carry-all. Answer coming up. . . . This Cody Ross nonsense has to stop. How can a wannabe professional rodeo clown be the Giants' biggest postseason bat? . . . Madison is a weird name for a dude. . . . Media trivia answer: Keith Russell from Action News. When I asked him about it, he channeled Alan from The Hangover: "It's not a purse. It's called a satchel. Indiana Jones wears one." . . . Charlie Manuel said Joe Blanton, not Roy Halladay, will pitch Game 4. Manuel sounded pretty confident about his decision. Wonder whether Philly shares that sentiment.