or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Sort of Love a Meaningless Exhibition That Determines Home Field Advantage in the World Series
The Major League Baseball All-Star Game is a tricky beast. It is nothing and it is all things. It is complicated simplicity. It is a walking contradiction. The All-Star Game tries to be everything to all, and like most things with such lofty aspirations, manages to be something to a few. Unmitigated success is a tough racket. Tonight, a large collection of extremely talented baseball players will compete against another large collection of extremely talented baseball players, and that’s about all the sense I can make of the whole deal. I’ve distilled it down to some basic level of truth in order to make the entire lot palatable. I’m a simple man. It’s easier this way.
You see, the All-Star Game Matters. This is an important distinction. Some years ago, a previous All-Star Game ended in a tie and that really offended a lot of sensibilities both delicate and otherwise. A game was being played and games have winners and losers. That’s how it works. If the players and the league couldn’t understand such a simple concept, then what exactly was the point? Fans were upset and loud, as fans are, and it turns out the fans are the ones that spend all the money on baseball. Wanting that money, the owners and the league decided that something had to be done. And here we are, with the result of the All-Star Game deciding home field advantage in the World Series. Mattering. Problem solved.
There are issues with this approach, of course. No one can really agree on the best way to select these All-Stars. The fans never get it right. The media never gets it right. Hell, the players and managers never get it right either. Every year there are oversights and snubs, politics and gamesmanship—a whole lot of snippy comments to the media. A couple of final roster spots are determined online. The Final Vote brought to you by Firestone, the candidates unleashed onto the world with all the internetting force and advertising dollars MLB can muster. Vote twenty times a minute, #Hashtags are worth double! Even after all of this, the players don’t even really seem to care. That might not be entirely fair. Many do care, many take the whole thing seriously and view it as an intense honor. Other players would rather go on vacation, or nurse a nagging injury, or perhaps both. A sore knee leads a starter to bow out, a dominant pitcher is scratched with a blister. This is how it goes, and there are no wrong answers. This game doesn’t count in the standings, the players need only be loyal to their home teams and selves. The All-Star Game both Matters and doesn’t.
So what to make of it all? Oh, I don’t know. Just accept it I guess. I typically love outrage. Outrage is a wonderful thing. It inspires and ignites feeling and inflates the ego. It makes writing about the All-Star game a whole lot easier. But to what end? What exactly is the point? Major League Baseball has a way of doing stupid stuff from time to time, and in the grander scheme, it seems prudent to save the righteous indignation for other matters— matters like instant replay or the save statistic or A. J. Pierzynski, you know, the important things in life. Maybe I’m just getting (feeling) old, but as this season’s progressed and we’ve grown closer the All-Star Game and it’s many infuriating delights, here are how my feelings have evolved:
1. Denial and Isolation
Wait, what? The winner of the All-Star Game gets home field advantage in the World Series? The World Series? Like, the last games played? The most important games? The games that decide the Champion of the entire season? And we’re just going to give that advantage to whoever wins a meaningless fan exhibition in the middle of the summer? And everyone is cool with that? No way. I just don’t believe it. You have to be joking. This is a joke, right? I refuse to recognize this information as anything but a humorous lark. A silly prank. Why isn’t everyone freaking out about this? Hello? Can anybody hear me? Am I all alone in this world?
2. Anger
This is effing ridiculous. How could anything be so completely stupid? I’m going to TYPE IN ALL CAPS and leave so many comments on so many different articles and message boards. I’ll wear out the exclamation point on my keyboard. I’m going to write a letter to the commissioner about this. I’m going to yell at everyone until they understand how screwed up this whole thing is. I will be heard. This can not stand. I feel very angry!
3. Bargaining
Alright, what can I do to stop this? Do they want money? If I buy more hats would that help? I’ll buy one of those super expensive on field jackets! I’ll bid on game used jerseys! How much are season tickets? I should have got out in front of this sooner. Maybe if I wasn’t so lazy and unmotivated I’d be able to enact positive change in the world.
4. Depression
Whatever. Everything is ruined. Baseball, the world, life. What’s the point of ever loving anything? We all die alone.
5. Acceptance
I guess it’s not so bad. There are still a ton of really good players. It will be awesome to see Stephen Strasburg against Jose Bautista. Little kids will probably love it. Fathers will bond with sons, families will come together and revel at the National Pastime. Mike Trout. Bryce Harper. Most of those deserving players who were snubbed or left out made the team anyway after a bunch of bow outs and injuries. These things have a way of working themselves out. Home field advantage is what, one game? And it probably won’t even make a difference anyway. It’s not like there’s some super easy and obvious solution we’re neglecting. Schedules are still uneven. Coin flips are still random. Last season, C.J. Wilson took the loss in the All-Star game and his Rangers team went on to the World Series where they did not have home field—and so at least that sort of worked out? We can deal with this. Why not just watch and enjoy it? It’s big and it’s loud and it’s silly, but the weather is good, and it’s baseball, and it’s the only game on.
Kyle writes baseball nonsense at The Trance of Waiting. You can follow him on Twitter @AgainstKyle.
