"Dear Barry Bonds,

Happy birthday! Hope this note finds you well, wherever you may be.

I understand this is not how you wanted to celebrate No. 44. Your agent has made that very clear. Everyone who follows baseball is well aware that you'd much rather be playing a game tonight instead of blowing out candles on your ice-cream cake and opening presents in your dining room. We hear ya.

But, no one feels sorry for you, because:

1. You cheated.

2. You were a jerk to others.

Yes, you've heard those reasons before. And you don't care. We know, we know. But that's why America, in my opinion, is enjoying the fact that you are being humbled now.

We know you weren't the only person who has been accused of taking performance-enhancing drugs, but you were the best. And, along the way, you broke one of the sport's fabled records, Hank Aaron's all-time home-run mark. For that reason, you will forever be viewed as the poster boy of the steroid era.

But there is a way, though, to show you're human, to show the baseball world that, more than anything, you care about playing the game of baseball. I know you don't care about your image -- you told us that so many times -- but as you sit here unwillingly unemployed on your 44th birthday, at least give me a chance to explain what you could do.

Most recently your agent suggested that he has offered teams the ability to sign you essentially for the major-league minimum. He told reporters at festivities for the All-Star Game that he would be willing to give teams a contract already signed by you, and the team can fill in the details. Nice touch, but clearly it hasn't worked.

We won't waste time suggesting you admit your steroid use, because of the obvious legal ramifications.

Here's a more realistic idea. If not playing baseball is eating away at you that much, then why not sign with an independent team such as the Long Island Ducks or the St. Paul Saints? My Newsday colleague, Anthony Rieber, initally suggested this idea several months ago, and it made sense then. Now, it makes 100 times more sense.

Go out there and play for next to nothing. Show us you can still play and -- most importantly -- prove to everyone that you can be a tolerable teammate to the people lowest on the baseball food chain.

One of the major reasons no team is willing to sign you is because you represent a walking headache for your bosses. Prove to everyone that continuing your career is so important to you that you would be willing to swallow your pride and pretend to be just another player, no different than any of the other 24 guys on your team."