The Ridiculousness Of Baseball's All-Star Game

Charlie Pierce tears baseball down:

he reason I keep coming back to baseball's All-Star Game, as opposed to all the others, is that, no matter how much they gussy it up and try to make it "significant" and wax nostalgic about the days when it really seemed to matter, the All-Star Game remains the single sharpest hatpin aimed in the general direction of baseball's inflated sense of self. And nothing has a more inflated sense of self than baseball. By comparison, the NCAA is the heir to the Three Stooges and the College of Cardinals is the reformed Sex Pistols. All that drippy, silly faux-Americanism was bad enough back in the day. You know how you know how bad it is? The sabermetricians came in and, refreshingly, brought the first original discipline to the analysis of the game since the invention of chewing tobacco, and within three years they turned as arrogant as every other baseball institution is. (As always, Bill James, who is still funny and intellectually interesting — true crime now? Cool — excepted.) Which is where the All-Star Game comes in.
The All-Star Game is the annual banana peel, the yearly seltzer bottle, the most expensive whoopee cushion in the world and the largest dribble glass on the planet. It is baseball's great prank on itself, year after year. I mean, honestly, 10 years ago, the thing ended in a tie. A tie! And what a tie it was. There was Bud Selig, still the unlikeliest power broker since the ascension of Charles the Simple to the throne of France, in his brand-new ballpark in Milwaukee, the eyes of the baseball world on him, and it gets to the 11th inning tied at seven and nobody has any pitchers left. For you connoisseurs of baseball lore, Freddy Garcia struck out Benito Santiago for the final out. (Freddy Garcia was in the All-Star Game? Unkind souls might argue that the American League ran out of pitchers first.) And, never at a loss for the hilariously wrong phrase, Bud Selig defended his decision to declare a draw by saying that it was … wait for it …
… "a no-win situation."

I love baseball, but Pierce is right.  Baseball has tried to weld itself so tightly to ridiculously patriotic imaginations of what "Real America" is that it has become a parody of itself.  We are still celebrating the 11-year-old tradition of playing "God Bless America" in place of "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" (itself cornily ridiculous) every Sunday in Cincinnati.  If that wasn't over-the-top enough, for the last few years, baseball sold Stars and Stripes versions of every team's hat, which they wore on Memorial Day, Fourth of July and September 11.  Way to stay classy.  But the worst deal was when known Anti-Americans Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins had the temerity to speak out that going to war in Iraq was a terrible idea.  For that crime, baseball cancelled their appearance at the Baseball Hall of Fame in honor of Bull Durham (itself a crazily corny movie).  Nothing like standing up for Apple Pie and Freedom of Speech.  I would like it if baseball turned down the hyperactive boosterism a little bit.  As for the All-Star Game, it's a pretty minor exhibition game.  But since it is the slowest day in sports, I'll watch a little bit.  Hopefully, RA Dickey will get a chance to pitch.