We’ve finally arrived at the day that most major league baseball players fondly call “the second day of my three-day fishing trip”: the MLB All-Star Game.
We made it through a lackluster Futures Game (though we don’t know why MLB treats it like the kids’ whiffle ball game at the company picnic), a Hamiltonian lightning strike at the Home Run Derby (with Justin Morneau sneaking off with yet another title someone else should have had), and the celebrity softball game. (By the way, we could not agree with this sentiment more: bring back Rock’n'Jock.)
And now we’re at the silliest of the silly season competitions: the game itself. We don’t mind this has become the forgotten event in both the MLB and NBA mid-season celebrations, between the above television fillers and the Borat-hangers-on celebrity parties.
After all, it’s baseball. They’re playing baseball tonight. We once got to a short-season Low-A baseball game in Vancouver an hour early and walked two blocks to watch 12-year-olds from a travel team league battle each other while we waited. We don’t need Bud Selig to tart up the night with “This Time It Counts”. It’s baseball; of course it matters.
Brooks is at the game tonight providing photos and reports, though we’re expecting he ran off to give blood to Tim Lincecum after he was taken from his hotel room to the hospital with “flu-like symptoms”. We mean no implication with the quotes; we just don’t want to be caught predicting Legionnaires’ Disease too quickly. (We always guess Legionnaires’ Disease.)
We have our first missive from Brooks after the jump. Join us, won’t you?