We started working on this Luis Gonzalez story back in early May.

And to tell you the truth, we were wondering then if we were late for the show.

Gonzalez was coming off that 14-homer April and, as you know, we at ESPN The Magazine hate to ever look back. I had no idea how I was going to spin Gonzalez's story forward. Certainly he would cool off.

So, I flew to Cincinnati to watch the Diamondbacks play the Reds, with this terrible feeling that the "Gonzo Show" had already played itself out. Even when Luis homered my second night at Cinergy Field, I yawned.

"He'll hit 35 or 36 this year," I told friends. "This is not going to have any shelf life. The story of his hot start is already old news."

Then, I got around to talking to Luis, and to others about Luis. And I started to get a different feeling about the story.

The guy who summed it up best for me was Pedro Gomez, the national baseball columnist for the Arizona Republic. "The story is not what Gonzo does," Pedro said to me. "It's who he is."

And as I soon learned, Luis Gonzalez is widely regarded as "the best guy" in baseball. And, no, it's not because he's nice to writers (he is) -- it's because he's nice to everyone. From the clubhouse attendants to the bat boys. From the kid just up from Triple-A to the biggest stars in the game. He treats everyone the same -- with respect.

"That's very nice to hear," his mother, Ame Silverstein said to me when I told her how nice Luis is to everyone. "But isn't that the golden rule? Do unto others ..."

Of course it is, Mrs. Silverstein, but let's just fast-forward this thing a little bit.

I was all set to fly out to Phoenix to put the finishing touches on the story when I started to get this strange vibe. I'm watching Baseball Tonight on a Sunday night and Barry Bonds is getting a standing ovation in Atlanta after hitting his third home run. I run downstairs to my computer, and click on espn.com to check out the schedule.

I knew it.

The Giants were going to be playing the Diamondbacks while I was in Phoenix. "If Bonds stays hot," I said to my wife, "what do you want to bet my assignment changes?"

My first night at BankOne Ballpark, Bonds hit a 700-foot home run off of Curt Schilling. Now, I just wait for the e-mail to arrive from Mission Control.

It's there as soon as I wake up the next morning -- it says, "Let's hold Luis and do Barry."

Before I even speak to Bonds (actually before I speak to Bonds' personal publicist, who will arrange for me to speak with Bonds), I apologize to Gonzalez. "The story isn't going to be in this issue, Luis," I say. "Sorry I wasted so much of your time."

In my heart, I'm thinking, "This story will die a long and painful death in my hard drive." But I tell Luis it will just be held -- for a few issues.

"Just means I'll have to get hot again," Gonzo says, smiling and shaking my hand. "I understand Barry is the story right now -- have fun. I'll see you soon."

That was two months ago. Guess what?

The Luis Gonzalez story has life.

Jeff Bradley is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at jeff.bradley@espnmag.com.