Sarcasm at its finest
06/27/2002
Codding Home / Sports Channel / Bullz-Eye Home
So what are you going to be doing this Sunday from 7:00 to 8:00 pm?
Besides still trying to shake off a relentless hangover.
Well, if you're like me, you'll be tuned to ESPN, impatiently waiting for the start of the most significant and riveting program in television's grand history.
No, I'm not talking about "American Idol." That debuted a few weeks ago.
I'm of course referring to the 2002 "MLB All Star Selection Show," presented by our friends at Gatorade. I know, I know. It's still a few days away, though, so calm down. Just take a deep breath and relax.
But it's nearly impossible to not get excited about this marvelous broadcast event. Because that's what it is -- not merely another lame television show, but a wonderfully historic event that will make everything you ever watch from that point on seem insignificant, uninspired and just plain boring.
The "MLB All Star Selection Show." Listen closely -- do I hear the Emmys calling? I think so.
I just saw a commercial for Sunday's festivities, claiming it will be an "exclusive announcement of the team rosters." Exclusive, huh? Wow, now I'm really fired up!
I mean, sure, I can get daily online updates from about a dozen Web sites on the All Star voting totals, and judging by past years I can pretty much pinpoint which players, deserving or not, will garner the most fan attention in the balloting. But on the "MLB All Star Selection Show" this Sunday, I'll be privy to exclusive information. I'll be the first to know who's starting at second for the NL squad and who'll be behind the plate in the American League. Dying to find out who will be roaming centerfield for both leagues on July 9? Feel free to call me Sunday night after 8:00 because I'll be the only guy in America with that restricted info.
Well, aside from just about every baseball exec in the country, most of the players and coaches, all the guys at ESPN, everybody who pays attention to the voting and all the people who watch the program on Sunday, I'll have sole ownership of that top-secret information. It's all classified, but not for me.
And all because of the "MLB All Star Selection Show." I can't wait.
Can it get any better than this? Heck yeah it can. Because not only, for the first time ever, will I be able to waste... er, I mean, devote an hour of my life to a television event covering the announcement of baseball's All Star representatives, this year I also have the power to elect the final reserve for each team. That's right, immediately following the thrilling conclusion of the "MLB All Star Selection Show," I can log on to MLB.com and cast a vote for the 30th and final player on both the AL and NL rosters.
Pretty damn spiffy, huh?
The one catch, though, is that I'll have to pick from a list of five eligible players, as chosen by Joe Torre, the American League manager, and Bob Brenly, the NL skipper, which kinda sucks because I really wanted to vote for Cal Ripken and Mark McGwire. The two winners of what baseball is calling "The All-Star 30th Man" will be revealed on MLB.com on Tuesday, July 2.
All that excitement, all that suspense, all that fan interaction, all in the span of three glorious days. I'm in hardball heaven. But I wonder if the MLB Web site will be able to handle the expected flood of traffic this contest will undoubtedly generate... .
The funny thing is, my baseball loyalties had been faltering recently. With all the talk about labor problems and strike dates, I began to question my love for the game. Athletes making tens of millions a year, owners raking in even more, and they're fighting over who's getting the shortest end of the deal? That'll make anybody reassess his priorities.
But I kept watching and cheering and following the pennant races, unable to abandon the game I've loved for so long. After all, I came back after the 1994 strike, so why would this be any different? Barry Bonds seems confident that I'd return.
Then all this steroid talk surfaced. Jose Canseco, Ken Caminiti, Curt Schilling, Bud Selig -- they all agreed that there was definitely a doping issue in baseball. Problem is, nobody can agree on a solution. The owners and the commish think randomized, mandatory drug testing would wipe out the problem but the Players Association, which according to Caminiti and Canseco, is loaded with 'roided representatives, is unlikely to approve any testing legislation.
Seems like a lose-lose situation, if you ask me.
But still, while I now unfortunately look at today's ball-crunching players through the eyes of a disillusioned conspiracy theorist, I haven't given up on the game. Disappointed? Sure. Ticked off? Absolutely. But turned off for good? Nope.
Not yet, anyway.
Despite my steady faithfulness, though, baseball has really tested my patience this year. Steroids, strikes, contraction, humidors, the whole stupid Clemens/Piazza/Estes situation at Shea a couple weeks ago, Bonds and Jeff Kent playing "WWF Smackdown" in the San Francisco dugout, Junior griping about life in Cincinnati, players hocking used gum and body parts online, the Devil Rays... . It was all getting pretty old.
But then this came along, this magnificent diversion known as the "MLB All Star Selection Show." And I don't know about you, but suddenly those harsh feelings I've developed the past few months are melting away. I don't seem to care as much about juiced players and the possible cancellation of the World Series -- I've got "The All-Star 30th Man" on my mind. Instead of worrying about the bleak future of this once-illustrious game, my focus is instead on freeing up my Sunday evening so I can see just how moronic most fans are when it comes to All Star balloting. Sure, uneducated voting is an annual occurrence, but this year I get to see it all unfold on TV!
And I imagine I'm not alone here. Attendance has been down across the board as apparently everybody else was simply fed up with all the negativity surrounding baseball in 2002 and beyond. But I'm willing to bet that'll change now. By diverting our attention away from its growing list of ugly incidents and unforgivable mistakes, baseball officially has won back its wandering fan base. I don't know if that was Mr. Selig's intention, but that doesn't really matter.
Because of the "MLB All Star Selection Show" and "The All-Star 30th Man" contest, my diamond devotion is again at full strength.
Well done, Bud -- all sins are forgiven.
In the Bullz-Eye
Pete Sampras. After getting knocked out in the second round at Wimbledon by George Bastl in five sets this week, Pistol Pete, seeded sixth, is no longer the dominant force he once was, getting spanked by lesser players on a disturbingly consistent basis. In fact, Sampras hasn't won a tournament since Wimbledon in 2000, a stunning dry spell for the man many consider to be the best grass-court player of all time. It may be time to call it quits before he damages his golden reputation.