The biggest name in baseball is a man without a team: the incomparable Barry Bonds.

As the season begins to hit its stride, Bonds, one of the most elite hitters of all time, remains on the market — unwanted.

We all know why: steroid allegations against him carry an enormous cloud wherever he goes. He is notoriously demanding, and, needless to say, is reportedly not the greatest teammate. He is a danger to team chemistry and morale.

But while he is a potential “intangibles” nightmare, he is still a statistical monster who, as an offensive weapon, would be an asset to any team.

Simply put, do the positives outweigh the negatives? And, if so, why is Bonds still sitting at home?

Put aside the brouhaha surrounding Bonds (I know — that’s quite a challenge) and look at the extraordinary numbers the left fielder has compiled over his career. In an average 162 game season, Bonds smacks 41 home runs, a pace that led him to the home run record. Even at age 43, he has hardly slowed down: in only 126 games last season, he hit 28 home runs, which translates to an extrapolated average of 36 over a full season.

Many point to his success as a by-product of steroid usage. That’s fine; it’s a legitimate concern, and one I sincerely share. I still find his power, especially at such a comparatively old age, to be impressive.

But what may be more notable is his eye at the plate — a skill that steroids cannot enhance. Too many adjectives bring down the quality of one’s work, but superlatives are necessary in this case: Bonds possesses the best eye of his generation.

Those who watched him saw his steadfast patience at the plate. A ball a fraction of an inch off the corner — a pitch that nearly any hitter would swing at — wouldn’t even draw a flinch from Bonds.

Since 1992, Bonds has lead the National League in walks 12 times. His career on-base percentage is a mind-boggling .444. In 2004, at the age of 40, he was on base .609 percent of the time — this in a sport where reaching base four out of every 10 times is deemed all-star worthy. Bonds did it at will.

And he still does: last year, despite playing in 36 fewer games than he could have, he led the MLB in bases on balls and OBP and was atop the NL leader board in OPS and OPS+.

Bonds has shown few signs of slowing down offensively. He is practically guaranteed to get on base in nearly half of his plate appearances. It is simple: Bonds remains one of the most lethal hitting threats in the league. He is a powerhouse, despite all the sideshows and shadows.

But the distractions are at the top of a list of reasons why he has yet to be signed.

During his last few years in San Francisco, the Giants were never the story: Bonds was. Young phenoms like Tim Lincecum and Matt Cain were overshadowed by the never-ending melodrama that the Bonds story had become.

Bonds would invariably bring that with him wherever he might go from here — he is the man the media loves to hate, and the coverage would be constant.

Furthermore, Bonds is used to luxury, even more so than the normal baseball player. His corner in the Giants’ clubhouse with a personal big screen television and recliner became something of lore, and another knock against Bonds. Would his sense of entitlement carry over to his new team?

Lastly, he is still demanding an eight-figure contract from potential suitors, which is reasonable when measured against his play, but, in the context of the whole situation, may not be. As he’ll only be playing, at best at this point, two-thirds of the season, it may be too high a price for the vast majority of teams to pay.

So, will Bonds be signed this year?

It’s hard to predict: National League teams may be scared off because of his defensive decline in left field, even though his offensive numbers would seem to more than make up for it. At this point in his career, though, he is best suited for a designated hitter’s role.

Bottom-feeders and solidly middle-of-the-pack teams have little incentive to sign him, since they won’t make the playoffs anyway, thus making the signing an irrelevant waste of money.

That leaves only a couple sets of teams: the juggernauts and the contenders. Many of the former — the Boston Red Sox, for example — already have established DHs. But there are a few squads on the cusp of playoff contention that do not. The Tampa Bay Rays, for instance, are competing this year, but there are many questions about their ability to win down the stretch. Bonds may fit there. Or in Minnesota with the Twins. Maybe even in New York, with the Yankees.

There certainly are possibilities out there for Bonds to come in as a late season addition. But while teams will salivate at the production he will bring to the squad, they will need to be able to overlook his tumultuous past and turn a blind eye to the media uproar that would ensue.

Wyndam Makowsky is a freshman who wants to be a part of said media uproar. Contact him at makowsky@stanford.edu.