The San Francisco Giants are in town to play the Mets for the first time this year, and Barry Bonds, 10 home runs shy of breaking Hank Aaron‘s all-time home run mark, was supposed to meet with the media before last night’s game. Here’s a Connecticut beat writer’s detailed account of what happened next:

Instead of giving the assembled media that numbered close to 100 a few minutes of his precious time — which the Giants had announced would happen via an e-mail — Bonds gave us just another reason why he is one of the most disenchanting figures in the game. He bopped into the Giants clubhouse, wearing a black shirt and blue jeans, around 4:30 p.m., acting larger than life, softly singing to some music that was blasting out of his headphones connected to the iPod that was strapped to his right arm.

Standing guard in front of Bonds’ locker were Giants public relations members Blake Rhodes and Matt Hodson, making sure that no reporters got close to Bonds. No one, it seems, ever gets close to Bonds. Rhodes leaned in toward Bonds and said something regarding the meeting with the media.

Bonds shook his head no.

A few seconds later, Rhodes gathered the reporters together.

“Barry is not going to speak today,” Rhodes said.

This, of course, from a guy who last year dressed up as Paula Abdul and — even worse — made reporters endure an episode of the Tyra Banks Show before taking questions from reporters.

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It’s a nice try, but aren’t they about a year late to the glossy green party? (The fact that we just suffered through the coldest February in 113 years doesn’t help either.)

Furthermore, why put Dontrelle Willis, the Florida Marlins flamethrower who was accused of drunk driving this offseason, on the cover standing in a pool of water? (Ever catch that TV ad where people get pulled over for drunk driving and a wave of alcohol rushes out when they open their door?) Couldn’t S.I. find someone more wholesome? Like, say, Barry Bonds?

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