Anyway, I’m watching the All-Star Game and I have to say that I’m kind of enjoying it. (Other than Sherryl Crow’s performance, I hate her.) I don’t really like the whole, “this time it counts” thing, but at least it makes the game relevant to some degree. As I discussed in an a piece I wrote for Baseball Prospectus last summer, I just wish that they would commit to it being a meaningful game. That means letting the best players play the entire game (rotating pitchers, of course), as opposed to treating it like a Little League game. And yes, I’m willing to sacrifice Freddy Sanchez’s at-bats for the cause. Sorry, Pirates fans.
But even if MLB decides to ignore my preference, that’s fine with me. I’ve come to the realization that the All-Star Game, as well as the home run derby, is not geared toward the hyper-obsessive fan such as myself. I used to love, and I mean LOVE, the All-Star Game when I was a kid. So much so that I remember forcing my father to record the end of the 1987 game after I was told I had to go to bed. I watched it the next day after I got back from camp, and I got to see Tim Raines hit a two-run triple in the top of the 13th inning to give the NL the 2-0 win. (Note: I looked that up, but I definitely remember Raines getting an extra-base hit to win it. But I did not recall that it was a triple to score Ozzie Virgil and Hubie Brooks, or that Sid Fernandez got the save. Go Mets!)
My favorite part of the All-Star Game as a kid was that the Mets wore white cleats. I don’t know why, but I got a huge kick out of this. I guess it indicated what a special occasion it was, because I never understood why the Mets didn’t wear white cleats during the regular season. In retrospect, that was probably a good things because white cleats look dumb on baseball players, but when I was eight years old, seeing the Mets wear white cleats represented status. As a kid, that meant something. Ah, the simple pleasures.
1 comment:
White cleats are for soccer players and cyclists. Not baseball players.
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