NEW YORK -- They say he doesn't sign. That he doesn't smile. That when it comes time for stretching, running and eating with his teammates, he's nowhere to be found. And they say that with his me-first, team-last attitude, he's the wrong man to break arguably the most cherished record in baseball.

	Barry Bonds has earned a reputation of being a loner both with his teammates and the fans.

But on a recent trip to New York, in front of fans considered some of the rudest and heartless in all of sports, nothing could have been further from the truth.

Maybe Barry Bonds had eaten his Wheaties that weekend. Maybe he was on his best behavior knowing that Gotham City's baseball franchises are among the few who have the chunk of change to sign the free-agent slugger this offseason. Or maybe, stung by a recent column in Sports Illustrated and a host of other bad raps, he simply decided to put on a happy face for the "we're watching your every move" New York media.

Whatever the case, for one late-summer weekend in New York 10 days ago, with all eyes firmly affixed to his every move, Barry Bonds actually smiled. A lot. In fact, he appeared to enjoy the added attention his assault on Mark McGwire's home run record has brought him.

Giants teammate Shawon Dunston said it's a change that has evolved throughout the season.

"Sure, he's more relaxed, having more fun and enjoying himself," Dunston said. "And that's good to see."

Nothing told the story better than a brief run-in he had Sunday night with an overzealous pre-teen autograph seeker. As Bonds entered the Giants dugout after batting practice, his head down, ignoring the 500 or so fans screaming his name, the kid tossed a pristine baseball toward the left fielder. The ball pelted Bonds in the chest, falling to the scummy dugout floor.

A New York City cop, who was on the other end of the dugout, sprinted to Bonds' rescue, scolding the kid and promising Bonds he'd kick him out of the stadium.

"That's not necessary," Bonds said.

Bonds then picked up the ball off the ground and asked the trembling kid if he had a pen. Bonds then signed the ball while explaining to the kid that what he did "wasn't right." And that "most players wouldn't appreciate that."

When he handed the ball back to the kid, the throng of fans hanging over the dugout offered a round of applause.

"I saw it happen and I thought for sure Barry was going to bite the kid's head off," said 42-year-old James Ward of Queens, who watched the incident unfold nearby with his 11-year-old son. "So yeah, just like everybody else, I couldn't believe it when he not only got the ball back for the kid, but then signed it."

For 14-year-old Jared Blechman of Setauket, N.Y., it was nothing new. Blechman, whose father is the executive vice president of a New York-based vitamin company and a personal friend of Bonds, is the Giants' bat boy when the team comes to New York.

His family's relationship with Bonds allows him to be one of the few afforded an insider's view of Bonds' personal world. The two drive together from the team hotel when Bonds is in New York. On this weekend, prior to Saturday's game, Bonds had the munchies and pulled over at a Burger King to get a snack.

"We walked right in and nobody said a word or bothered him at all," Blechman said. "Which is how he likes it."

The second he puts that No. 25 jersey on, however, that changes. His chase of McGwire's three-year-old home run record has made him the hottest ticket in sports right now.

Bonds is the center of attention from the second he steps out of the dugout for batting practice until the game's final out is made and he's headed to the locker room. And not only are fans constantly begging for his attention, they do the same to his Giants teammates, coaches, bat boys and trainers.

It's enough to drive Blechman, the bat boy, nuts.

"Oh yeah, it gets tiring. Your ears start to hurt," Blechman said. "It's always Barry this, Barry that.' 'Can I get an autograph' 'Turn and smile for my camera!' I get tired of hearing all that about an hour before the game even starts and it doesn't even have anything to do with me."

The argument, however, is that it's all part of being a star athlete. Wanna make millions? Wanna be a celebrity? Want your grandchildren to never worry about their financial security? Then sign autographs and be cordial with the media.

Dean Blechman, Jared's father, doesn't buy it. Blechman said he met Bonds about six years ago through Giants manager Dusty Baker. His family often vacations with the Bonds family. He said few people actually comprehend just what Bonds has to deal with on a daily basis. If they did, Blechman says, people would understand why he often comes off as testy or standoffish.

"I've watched many, many people approach him and they're just too aggressive," he said. "Whenever I'm with him, I can't believe all he goes through. If he were to stop and say yes every time somebody asked, he would never have a life. He'd be signing every day, all day, for the rest of his life. So he has to draw the line sometimes."

On this weekend in New York, Bonds drew the line plenty. But what was impressive was the times he didn't: an autograph for a handicapped boy; a picture with a Japanese newspaper reporter; and an ear-to-ear smile, three giant bear hugs and a kiss on the cheek for Allison Blechman, Dean's 17-year-old daughter.

"Nobody gets him," Allison said. "When they all boo him and yell at him and write mean things about him, they just don't know the person they're yelling at."

But there's good reason the public has a jaded opinion of Bonds. For years, he's been aloof with fans and surly with the media. On this weekend, even though he signed autographs, smiled for the camera and seemed to enjoy himself, there were still flashes of the dark side. Like after Sunday's game, when he ignored a group of waiting reporters to chat with his brother Bobby.

When he does answer questions, he isn't happy about it. His answers are often short and quick, proving that even Barry Bonds can't help from being himself.

"It was a late game tonight, guys, and a day game tomorrow, I gotta go," he said after four quick questions.

Television cameras recording moments like that are the reason that some don't want to see Bonds break McGwire's record. Included in that group is die-hard Mets fan Charles Stanley, who took off work just to see Bonds in his lone trip to Shea Stadium this year.

Though he cheered for the homers, Stanley said he hopes Bonds stops before reaching No. 70.

	Bonds may be chasing history, but he remains in the shadow of Mark McGwire, who remains embraced by fans three years after breaking baseball's home run record.

"He isn't half the man Mark McGwire is," Stanley said. "With Barry, it's all about image and all about the money. He says he doesn't care about the record? I don't buy that for one minute. There's no way that Barry Bonds doesn't wake up every morning and know how many home runs he has, how many he needs, all that stuff."

"But," Stanley adds, "I'd love him to become a Met."

So he's easy on Bonds this day. Seated six rows behind the Giants' on-deck circle, Stanley, wearing three authentic autographed Mets jerseys (those of Mike Piazza, Edgardo Alfonzo and Robin Ventura) over one another, uses his booming, baritone voice to get a reaction out of the slugger.

"Hey, Barry, why don't you come play for the Mets, huh? We wouldn't hate your guts then," he beckons Bonds from the stands. Later, he offers this gem, referring to the lack of overhead air traffic from nearby LaGuardia Airport on this day. "Hey Barry, just listen. We've even turned off the jets for you today, 'cause we know you don't like it. We could even build a little splash-down area for you in right field -- Bonds Bay."

That one gets No. 25 to chuckle, his shoulders bouncing up and down in unison at Stanley's wisecrack. Two at-bats later, Bonds belts a mammoth home run to right field. After crossing home plate and heading back to the Giants dugout, he spots Stanley, who is tipping his hat and bowing to the Giants slugger. Bonds points to the large, bearded man and winks.

"I was just laughing thinking about his comments -- that's all," Bonds said later. "Some of the things the fans say -- and do -- surprise me."

On this weekend, the feeling was mutual.

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer at ESPN.com. He can be reached at wayne.drehs@espn.com.