In the days before he became violent, in the days before he threatened to chop off Kimberly Bell’s head and leave her body in a ditch, Barry Bonds would stand in front of a mirror and fret about how steroids were changing his body.
His body had grown thicker, his back was pocked with acne, his hair had fallen out and his testicles had shriveled when Bonds asked his former mistress if she thought anyone would suspect he was on the juice.
“Do I look bloated?” Bonds wanted to know. “Does it look funny? Do you think this is obvious?”