Mike Celizic

He shouldn’t have lied.

But for Barry Bonds, who’s always been light years longer on talent than he is on decency and common sense, telling the truth was never an option. Arrogance was his armor and the law — whether of social interaction, the game he played or nation under whose aegis he became rich and famous — was of no consequence to him because he was above it.

The Greeks called it hubris — overweening pride or ambition that offends the gods, who ultimately get their revenge. In India, it’s karma, the things you do piling up for good or evil until the scales are overwhelmed and you fall to your reward or just desserts. In America, we just say what goes around comes around. 

No matter what you call it, he got not so much what he deserved, but what he earned.

It still may work out that way. He was indicted for perjury and obstruction of justice in the investigation of BALCO labs, but that’s not the same as being found guilty as charged. Given his money and the legal representation that can purchase, he may yet beat the rap in court.

But Bonds’ career is over. He’s been a dicey commodity ever since his testimony to the grand jury investigating BALCO was leaked and others talked about his use of steroids and human growth hormone. Now, with a federal indictment hanging over his head, he’s poison. Maybe ten years ago, when he was still at the peak of his powers, a team would have taken a chance on him. But there’s no way anyone will touch him now, not at his advanced age and not with the baggage he brings with him.

Bonds faces federal charges Bonds pleads not guilty to 5 federal charges Ventre: HR king isn't so fearsome anymore Bonds wants to play somewhere in 2008 Robinson's widow: Don't condemn Bonds yet Opinion: Blame Bonds’ ego for this mess TODAY: 756 ball buyer to put asterisk on it Ex-trainer Anderson 'never going to testify' Ventre: Bonds targeted by witch hunt? Please   Opinion: Goodbye . . . and good riddance

His first-ballot ticket to the Hall of Fame is also probably revoked. Character counts in the voting, and every writer who prayed for some reason to leave him off his or her ballot now has one. He’ll probably get in eventually; his career before he is believed to have turned to the cream and the clear and HGH is enough to do that for him. But he’s going to have to wait to join his asterisked ball in Cooperstown. And when he does get in, I hope they make note of his indictment on his bronze plaque, just to set the record straight.

He’s anathema now — an indicted juicer who will wander the tabloids of the future in the company of O.J. Simpson and Pete Rose, eternally proclaiming his innocence, fawned over by whatever loser lackeys who think there’s status in hanging out with the dregs of sports society.

I’ve always defended his talent and even his actions. Nothing he did was against the rules of the game when he was putting up his single-season home-run record and ruling the game like no one had ever done before. Baseball allowed him to do what he did, celebrated it, encouraged it and cashed the checks. The game, too, got what it earned.

But I’ve also condemned his arrogance going back to when he was a rookie in Pittsburgh and even then too full of himself to treat anyone with respect and common human decency. And I wondered if it would ever catch up to him.