When Does the All Star Game Start?

(BOD - Mary Pickford)

Once the Midsummer Classic actually got started, it was a pretty entertaining and fast-paced affair. The top pitchers in both leagues were absolutely dealing and shredding through the best hitters in Major League Baseball.

The game didn’t get bogged down until the later innings when both managers reverted to the over-management style that plagues today’s game. In what universe does Roy Halladay only throw 2/3 of an inning?

Unfortunately, for young Phillies fans, they didn’t even get to see Doc pitch because they were in bed long before he took the hill. Millions of fans were in the same situation, Tewks included. If you live on the East Coast, the game didn’t start until 8:50pm. That is complete bullshit.

This is a perfect opportunity to showcase the best in the game and MLB organized it so half the population of North America was asleep by the seventh inning stretch. I tuned in at 8pm, figuring I would be right on time for catching the first pitch.

Wrong.

First I had to sit through a tribute to the Yankees enigmatic owner, George Steinbrenner. There is no doubt that Steinbrenner should have been remembered, but it was ridiculous to see the man painted as a hero and hear everyone reminisce about their fond memories of “The Boss.” The guy was a colossal prick; a winner in all facets of life, but a prick nonetheless.

He was terrible to his employees and anyone else who he deemed failing to live up to his impossibly high expectations. Why was he like this? Because his dad was an asshole as well, who never said a nice about young George during his entire life.

His legacy will be as a tremendous owner who won at all costs, but also a mean-spirited egomaniac who would punch his own mother for an American League pennant. However, George was also the King of media quotes. My favourite was when he was discussing Dave Winfield’s anemic playoff performances in his later years with the Yankees:

“Where is Reggie Jackson? We need a Mr. October or a Mr. September . . . Dave Winfield is Mr. May.”

So, after the Steinbrenner tribute, the game should have started immediately, right? Nope. I had to sit through a myriad of celebrities talking about community volunteerism for fifteen minutes. I’m all for altruism, but not at the expense of my baseball watching.

Next, we were forced to watch the fat, black girl from Glee stage an impromptu concert. This is the Major League All Star Game for chrissakes, not Lillith Fair. Why did she sing so many songs? This is how you plan on attracting new fans?

The All Star Game should be about celebrating the sport, not a cross-promotional corporate schmooze fest to see how many commercials and advertisements MLB can assault our senses with in an hour.

So, who won? I have no idea.

I was sleeping.