"Though spared the indignity of another tie, Selig had to suffer through the 4-hour, 50-minute Yankee Stadium special wondering, like everyone else, which position players Francona and NL manager Clint Hurdle would designate their pitchers and whether this would officially wreck the sham that says an All-Star game should mean something."
That's Jeff Passan, from Yahoo Sports. Someone get him a hanky. Though not quite as much of an insipid hack as Toronto sports writers, Jeff always comes close.
Poor guy. Another sycophant who believes that sports are for one thing: to give him a job worshipping his heroes.
In 2002, Major League Baseball made the All-Star game mean something (homefield advantage for the World Series) because a tie game angered the fans. Back in the 2002 game, the managers worried that their poor pitchers' arms were going to get tired, so they asked for the game to be called a draw. Bud Selig agreed, and the game ended, to a chorus of boos from the stands.
I never used to watch the All-Star game. I don't believe any game should be televised unless it means something. This is not Europe, where you play "friendlies" against some team from down the road or across a continent. The only exception to this is the pre-season, where the games actually mean quite a lot: they tell you whom you want to hire and fire.
This is North America. We play to win. Winning is all the matters (unless you work for the Jays, whose losing record has forced them to run commercials that say "it's about more than winning." Sure it is, when you're losing). If a game isn't worth winning, why is it worth watching?
I only started to watch the All-Star game when it was decided that the winning team would receive homefield advantage in the World Series. Good enough for me. Now that there was something on the line, I was ready to tune in.
Sports writers hated the idea. You see, they make their living worshipping and protecting sports stars. They thought that baseball players might get hurt playing in a game that mattered (they do it 162 times during the regular season, but boo-hoo, be careful on one night July, little darlings). Sportscasters wanted the game to stay the way it always was: a nice four-day press trip to a baseball stadium, where they could hang out with their heroes and pat them on the back.
Tough luck. Sports "journalists" covered up the steroid scandal in baseball for over a decade while they kissed millionaire butt. Their opinion is absolutely irrelevant to me when it comes to how the game should be played, or if any changes should be made to it.
Major Leage Baseball heard the jeers six years ago, and the league responded to what the fans wanted. The fans! Who could believe it? Not the sports writers, who suddenly found themselves with the task of not drinking too much from the press box so they could actually report on a real game during the All-Star break.
If managers are afraid of long innings and tired arms, they should manage teams better during the game. If this means a player doesn't get a chance to play, too bad. The game means something. Sit on the bench and wait your turn if we need you. This isn't Little League. They're grown men, playing for a very important prize in the post-season. Being picked last doesn't mean they'll miss a date with Mary Jane, it means their team might win. They can deal with it.
As, in fact, they are. I haven't heard much griping from players today about a long, 15-inning game. The fans, too, don't seem to care that they were treated to a close one. It's the sports "journalists" that are having a hard time with it. A long game meant delayed flights, late deadlines, and perhaps a missed opportunity to hit the bar for last call on their newspaper's dime.
So tonight I will tune in and listen to these hacks berate last night's game. And I will laugh, knowing that the fans caused the change in the game, and ticked off these self-righteous buffoons. It's going to be a great night.
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