They blinked. They choked. They surrendered and submitted to Barry Bonds. They had no direction to go, except his way and on his terms. How feeble. How perfectly small of the Giants.

Why did the Giants, according to reports, agree in principle to give Bonds $16 million for next season when there were no other official bidders for a man whose future may include trips to both Cooperstown and a federal penitentiary?

Why cave in to an oft-injured, isolated 42-year-old sourpuss with zero other suitors? Why give away all your chips when there was nobody else in the hand?

Why? Why? Because the Giants, in their plunging, conscience-sapping weakness, decided Thursday that they needed Bonds more than he needed them.

Still. Pathetically.

I’m sure Brian Sabean, Peter Magowan and Larry Baer will emerge from this deal with explanations about baseball math and the glory of Bonds hitting 22 more home runs this season and breaking Henry Aaron’s record in a Giants uniform.

They will say Bonds played well last season (for an old guy), that they needed a clean-up hitter (in a horrendous lineup) and that, in this explosive financial market, he was worth $2 million more than J.D. Drew on a per-season basis.

They can also quietly point out that they apparently got Bonds to drop contract language that might have added another year to the deal. (But what if he’s one or two homers short at the end of 2007? Egads.)

Those explanations are fine and dandy, if you forget everything the Giants intimated the last few months about moving past the pamper-Bonds era and if you ignore the tiny fact that 29 other franchises decided Bonds wasn’t worth their time or dollars.

Any time, mind you. Any dollars.

Back in October, it was Magowan, not me, who said of Bonds: “He’s one of 11 (free-agent) pieces of the puzzle. He’s not even the centerpiece of the puzzle.”

And it was Bonds, not me, who ripped back at those “nasty” suggestions.

Awhile ago, the Giant brass wanted people to think that Bonds wouldn’t be catered to any longer. The Giant brass let it be known that the behavior that has characterized Bonds’ career wouldn’t be tolerated.

So they tried to sign Alfonso Soriano, but failed. Tried for Carlos Lee. Failed. Tried for Gary Matthews and Juan Pierre.

They pipe-dreamed about trading for Manny Ramirez (for what? All their B- and C-level prospects?), they cruised the free-agent market for Barry Zito.

Failure everywhere.

Sure, they added Dave Roberts, Rich Aurilia and Bengie Molina and retained Ray Durham and Pedro Feliz. Which all spells: 70-92, maybe worse. Excited yet?

The Giants are going to be lousy with or without Bonds – that’s the great truth the brass cannot accept. They want to get younger, but they don’t have young talent. They want to be free of Bonds, but they don’t know how low they’d fall without him.

They’d be much, much, much better off if they held the line at $7 million for Bonds.

In the end, the only thing that mattered was the Giants’ desolate weakness, their fears and their inability to say “no” to the player who has no shame.