SAN FRANCISCO -- When he puts that left foot in the batter's box of Pac Bell Park and begins to waggle that bat, you know Pedro Feliz isn't up. And you know David Bell isn't up. And you know Yorvit Torrealba isn't up.

When Barry Bonds comes to bat at Pac Bell and 42,000 people know he has to be pitched to, it's one of those moments when a mere baseball game elevates itself into some whole different kind of event.

	There was no doubt about it when Bonds slammed his three-run homer in the fifth.

It's Springsteen stepping on stage at the Meadowlands. It's Placido Domingo crooning his first note at the Metropolitan Opera. It's a special moment even the guys on the other team feel.

"You feel the buzz when Barry even steps into the on-deck circle," said Cardinals pitcher Chuck Finley on Saturday, after giving up a three-run McCovey Cove homer to Bonds -- and still beating the Giants, 5-4. "You can kind of hear the fans mumbling to themselves when he walks out of the dugout. When you're pitching to the guy in front of him and you hear that, you say, 'I'd better bear down on this guy, because something special is on deck.'"

All you need to know about how special the Cardinals know Bonds is, is this: He has as many walks in this series as at-bats (seven). He walked three more times Saturday. But it was the occasion when the Cardinals had to pitch to him that turned into the most powerful moment of the day.

It was the fifth inning. The Giants trailed, 4-1. But Rich Aurilia and Jeff Kent had started the inning with singles. And with two men on, nobody out, a three-run lead and a left-hander on the mound, the Cardinals chose to pitch to Bonds. For the last time all day.

As he headed for the box, every occupant of Pac Bell Park stood. Orange pom-pons waved in the breeze. A chant of "Bar-ry, Bar-ry," welled up out of the bleachers.

"Buzz" didn't describe this. "Rumble" was more like it.

This was why they came. This was why we watch. This was why Bonds has become his sport's most charismatic player.

"When it's first and second, no outs, you can't pitch around him with a three-run lead," Finley said. "You can't load the bases there. So you just do your best."

So even though Isringhausen allowed no home runs this season, he still did what a hundred other pitchers did this year -- threw Bonds five pitches that couldn't be hit.

Finley's first pitch was a fastball in the dirt. His second pitch was another fastball, so far in and so high that almost no one else even makes contact, let alone hits it fair, lets alone hits into a body of water beyond the fence.

"When I let the ball go," Finley said, "I thought the worst that can happen is, he pulls it foul."

Nope. There is no bat speed on earth like Bonds' bat speed these days. Bat met ball and ball met water so fast, it was almost impossible to comprehend you'd seen what you just saw.

"I didn't even see that ball, he hit it so hard," Finley said. "It left so fast, I couldn't even see it. I saw it leave the bat. I turned around. And I couldn't find it. That's how fast it got out."

The stadium shook for 10 minutes. Through three more hitters. Through a trip to the mound by pitching coach Dave Duncan. Through a two-minute break between innings as Bonds headed out to left field, waving to his admirers.

Bonds minimized the moment afterward, saying of his homer: "It changes the mood in the dugout -- but that's all it does, It got everybody a little bit fired up. But you've still got to go out there and play."

Maybe it was no more than that to him. But everyone else who witnessed it knew different.

"He creates so much electricity," said Finley. "Barry, Mark McGwire, Randy Johnson, Cal Ripken -- they're the men who gave baseball its identity the last few years. They're good for the game. He's good for the game."

But what's good for the game isn't always good for the team he's playing. So when Bonds came to the plate in the seventh, with one out and a runner on second, the Cardinals intentionally walked him.

And in the ninth, even though there was one out and nobody on, closer Jason Isringhausen would rather have pitched naked than have pitched to Bonds.

"My feeling is, I'm not going to let him be a hero there," Isringhausen said. "He'd already been a hero once in this game. We can't let him be a hero again."

So even though Isringhausen allowed no home runs this season, he still did what a hundred other pitchers did this year -- threw Bonds five pitches that couldn't be hit. The first was a knuckle-curve on the corner that was called a strike. The next four were as close to Sacramento as they were to the strike zone.

Maybe before these last two weeks, Bonds' October reputation was right down there with Bill Buckner's. But with every trip to the plate against the Braves and the Cardinals, the fear he has put in the other team tells you those other October debacles were part of Bonds' previous lifetime. This is a new man -- and he'll be dealt with accordingly.

"Barry Bonds, to me, is one of the best hitters ever," said Isringhausen -- who, by the way, has never allowed a hit to Bonds (0-for-11). "He's one of the best power hitters ever. So maybe every once in a while, if the situation dictates, you'll go after him. But if the game's on the line, I'm not gonna let him beat me."

Which is why, on those rare moments that he actually gets to swing the bat in games this big and visible, you hold your breath, put down your hot dog and savor the most electrifying buzz in sports.

Jayson Stark is a senior writer for ESPN.com.