Tuesday, July 14, 2009
5 reasons MLB's All-Star festivities suck
I HATE YOU.
Tonight is Major League Baseball's 2009 All-Star game, live from St. Louis. What action! What drama! What a freaking joke.
Yes, I can find things to hate about the All-Star festivities. I loathe fireworks, too. Did I tell you that? And puppies. And freedom.
1) The Home Run Derby sucks. I didn't watch last night's Derby, for a couple of reasons. First, like the BCS and college football, it takes a great sporting contest and mucks it up with an illogical way to determine a champion. Josh Hamilton hit 28 long balls in the first round of last year's Derby, a thrilling spectacle. But according to Derby rules, you can't "carry over" any to the next round, so he ended up losing because he was tired. So MLB is telling the players, don't bother creating a career-defining moment like Hamilton did last year, just start coasting when you think you've hit enough. Of course, that's not nearly as annoyi - back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back back - MY GOD! Does any single person ruin an event more than Chris Berman destroys the Home Run Derby? Hitler didn't ruin the '40s this badly. I continue my nightly prayers asking God to give him throat cancer. (Relax. Just enough to ruin his voice, not kill him. I'm not an asshole.)
2) The game's announcers are fucktards. Ok, Berman obviously eats the majority of my Hate Cake when it comes to television announcers. But there are still big ol' slices left for Joe Buck and Tim McCarver, who will be calling the game for Fox. Buck is a smarmy assface of the highest order, telling anybody who will listen that - No, really! - he's funny, standing on his dad's corpse to sell beer, and acting sanctimoniusly apeshit over perceived slights to his moral fortitude (his ranting, which convinced me Moss had actually pulled down his pants, goes on about five hours longer than this clip shows). McCarver? Molests collies. Seriously.
3) No fantasy baseball until Thursday. Dormant. And how exactly am I supposed to fill those five hours every night? Read?
4) The winner means something. Steroids aside, this is the worst sin of commissioner Bud Selig's career - and that's saying something. The winner of the All-Star Game gets home field advantage in the World Series, which is why we've been told over-and-over-and-over-and-back back back back-and-over that this "means something." But it shouldn't. It shouldn't mean a damn thing, because the coaches and players don't act like it does. When you work to get playing time for almost all of the participants, nothing should be on the line. It's an exhibition! San Diego's closer blowing a save shouldn't affect the World Series. An error by Baltimore's outfielder shouldn't affect on the World Series. The Kansas City Royals shouldn't affect the World Series.
5) It's pussy crap. Baseball channels its inner-kindergarten teacher, and becomes a self-esteem enabler. "Ooh, we have to look out for widdle team's feewings! Ewverybody gets to pway!" MLB requires every team have at least one All-Star, which leads to sentences like "Now batting, All-Star Robert Fick." Of course, there are always deserving players sitting home because of this juvenile, wanky, ratings-driven rule - this year, San Francisco's Pablo Sandoval is on his couch despite leading "All-Star" Ryan Zimmerman in almost every offensive category. But hey, we need our Washington Nationals fix, don't we?