The start of the postseason represents baseball's fall demarcation. After Sunday, there are only two kinds of teams: those out of the playoffs, and those in.

By the first pitch of the Division Series, division titles don't count for much, and neither do win totals. What you accomplished from April through September ceases to have real meaning in October. And nobody knows this better than Barry Bonds.

Over the course of the last few seasons, Bonds has elevated himself in baseball's pantheon. His achievements are such that merely calling him The Game's Best Player doesn't do him justice. He needs more context. The suggestion that Bonds now must be considered among the handful of best players ever isn't a reach.

	Barry Bonds has one home run in 97 career postseason at-bats.

In the last two seasons alone, Bonds has: crossed both the 500 and 600 career homer plateau; set a single-season record for most home runs; won his first batting title at age 38, becoming the oldest first-time champ; extended his own NL record for most consecutive seasons with 30 or more homers; established new single-season walk records in both seasons and smashed the single-season on-base percentage held by Ted Williams.

It's likely that, after steering the Giants to the NL wild card, next month he will become the first five-time Most Valuable Player -- a year after becoming the first four-time MVP.

In an era of overexposure and media hype, it's almost impossible to overstate or overvalue what Bonds has done.

And yet ...

And yet ... Bonds' magnificent accomplishments will now, for the next few days or weeks, be largely disregarded.

What have you done for us lately, Barry? What, specifically, have you done in the playoffs?

The answer, as Bonds well knows, is not much. For all his spectacular feats during the regular season, Bonds carries the burden of non-performance in October like a cross. In 97 at-bats, he has but one homer among his 19 hits and a measly six RBI while compiling a minuscule .196 batting average.

The Greatest Player of his Generation has been mostly a non-factor in past playoffs. When it's counted most, Bonds has mattered least.

By now, Bonds is as weary of answering questions about his postseason failures as he was of answering questions about the home-run record a year ago. The issue follows him around like an over-eager puppy dog, nipping at his heels, unwilling to go away.

Sure, but what did he do in October?

At 38, Bonds is running out of time to erase the sole stain on his otherwise glorious career. While his current contract has at least three years remaining, there are no guarantees that the Giants, lodged in one of baseball's two most competitive divisions and somewhat hamstrung by payroll restraints, can count on annual trips to the postseason. Since Bonds arrived in 1993, the Giants have qualified for the playoffs three times.

It's Bonds' misfortune to be matched this time against the Atlanta Braves, who sport what is probably the smartest pitching staff in the league and surely one of the deepest. Should the Division Series extend to five games, three of those games will be started by Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux, pitching artisans known for their precise control and unwillingness to give in.

Not-so-glorious postseasons

How Barry Bonds has performed in five previous appearances in the postseason: 1990: 3-for-18 (.167) no home runs, one RBI for Pittsburgh in NLCS. 1991: 4-for-27 (.148) no home runs, no RBI for Pittsburgh in NLCS. 1992: 6-for-23 (.261) one home run, two RBI for Pittsburgh in NLCS. 1997: 3-for-12 (.250) no home runs, two RBI for San Francisco in NL Division Series. 2000: 3-for-17 (.176) no home runs, one RBI for San Francisco in NL Division Series.

What if the Braves simply elect not to pitch to Bonds, as so many pitchers decided over the season when he racked up an astonishing 198 walks, including 68 intentional passes? Other than Jeff Kent, at once Bonds' teammate and sparring partner, no one else in the San Francisco lineup has the ability to turn a game around.

Will Bonds be as unfailingly patient in the postseason as he was during the regular season? Will he be content to take his base and hope Kent can make the Braves pay? Or, human nature being what it is, will Bonds feel he must carry the Giants and abandon his extraordinary selectivity?

Perhaps more to the point, will it matter? Should one superlative October change our opinion of him? Will he grow greater in our eyes if he lugs the Giants into the Fall Classic for the first time since 1989?

Bonds complains bitterly about the double standards that are applied to him, and in this case, his argument has some merit.

Of the three players ahead of Bonds on the all-time home run list, two -- Willie Mays and Hank Aaron -- will not be remembered for their postseason exploits. (Admittedly, it's difficult to compare eras; for most of their careers, Mays and Aaron either made it to the World Series or went home).

Mays' most memorable postseason moment came on the field, robbing Vic Wertz of extra bases with his back-to-the-plate catch in the 1954 World Series. But after 1962, Mays and the Giants never got back to the Series. He did get a bit part with the 1973 Mets. His career postseason numbers are an unflattering .247 average with one homer and 10 RBI.

Aaron had a longer October dry spell, though he made a bigger impact in his two World Series appearances in the 1950s, hitting .364 with three homers and nine RBI. After two stops in the World Series in his first five seasons, he never again qualified for the Series despite playing for another 18 years.

Harmon Killebrew, another great slugger whom Bonds surpassed on the all-time homer list this season, hit an ordinary .250 with three homers and six RBI in 13 postseason contests.

Are they diminished at all in our eyes by their unremarkable postseason play? For that matter, what of Ted Williams, widely acknowledged as the game's greatest hitter ever, but a participant in just one World Series, and a thoroughly mediocre one at that?

The dirty secret here is that many of the game's greats either underachieved in their few chances to shine in October (Cal Ripken Jr., Carl Yastrzemski, Tony Gwynn) or never participated at all (Billy Williams and Ernie Banks, to name two). The same sad fate may yet await Vladimir Guerrero or Mike Sweeney.

Other than a World Series ring, perhaps all that Bonds' career is currently lacking is proper context. Whatever he achieves this fall should be seen as a bonus. A career this great shouldn't be subject to demerits.