Barry Bonds’ attorneys have filed a motion in federal court to have the perjury charges against him dismissed. The charges stem from Bonds allegedly lying to a grand jury about his use of performance-enhancing drugs in December 2003. Bonds claims that questions poised to him by prosecutors were ambiguous and confusing. Prosecutors asked Bonds several times whether personal trainer Greg Anderson supplied him with performance-enhancing drugs beginning in 2000, and Bonds answered “no” or “not at all.” However, his lawyers claim that the questions were “frequently imprecise.” The indictment cites 19 different examples of Bonds’ alleged lying. The judge is scheduled to hear Bonds’ lawyers on February 29.
Jesus. Talk about lame. First he thought he could get away with taking steroids and now he thinks he can get away with lying about it while under oath. That’s ridiculous. I hated Bonds before and now I hate him even more. I loathe him. You know, I once had the displeasure of meeting him, sort of. It was August 17th 2007, my birthday. I had gotten free Marlins tickets from my job and ironically enough we were playing steroid boy’s team The San Francisco Giants. My husband and I showed up to the stadium 2 hours before the gates even opened, hoping that we could catch a glimpse of all the players practicing… and of course show off a wonderful steroid tribute poster I had made just for Barry. Sadly, I no longer have a photo of my beautiful poster, but let me give you a brief description…. Asterisk 756, syringe.
We waited outside for over an hour before they let us in, and I ran my little butt all the way to the field just to see who I would be able to meet. Barry Zito and Omar Vizquel were incredibly kind. They waved, said hello, and even signed autographs. But then Bonds arrogantly walked by and I yelled out his named. He didn’t even look at me, or anyone else that wanted his attention. He simply walked into the dug out. We called out to him a few times, but nothing. Now, some of you may think that this is newly gained arrogance, but oh no! Do not be fooled! He has always been like this and worse. Maybe he always thought he was allowed to be this way simply because he is Willie Mays godson and a distant cousin of Reggie Jackson. Correction, Mr. Bonds! You’re not allowed to be a prick simply because you are related to some one. Why couldn’t this guy just wave, say hello, sign a few autographs, or even smile for goodness sake?
Well, Mr. Bonds, I am glad you are getting your just desserts. I hope you rot in jail, if only for a little while. Say hi to Bubba for me!