Phillies Nation

With the Midsummer Classic mere hours away, Michael Baumann and I sat down to discuss the game’s convoluted process and stipulation. We agreed on few points, disagreed on most, and left at least understanding the opposing viewpoint. Enjoy the conversation…

Corey: Are you excited for the All-Star game? Will you watch it?

Mike: Of course I’ll watch it, because it’s not every day you see the biggest stars in the game on the same field, but “excited” might be too strong a word. Maybe it’s just the passage of time, but as the rosters expand, and with the whole “this time it counts” nonsense, what could be a really special event just seems sort of mundane. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather have the All-Star Game than not have it, but it seems like MLB is trying too hard to make it a big deal, and every change just makes it worse.

Corey: Call me crazy, but I’m one of the few that loves the home-field advantage stipulation. I think it adds a ton of excitement, strategy and late-inning drama to a game I would otherwise be flipping on-and-off. Brian McCann‘s bases clearing double was really exciting last year, especially for Philadelphians with World Series expectations.

For several teams, this game is massively important. A team like the Red Sox NEEDS the AL to win it, whereas a team like the Phillies would be screwed if the Junior Circuit wins. Look no further than the Boston-Philly series from a few weeks ago … the Sox had a 5-6-7-8 of Darnell McDonald, Jason Varitek, Mike Cameron and Marco Scutaro one game and Varitek-Josh Reddick-Drew Sutton-Scutaro in another. In between those two games, David Ortiz was forced to play first base with Adrian Gonzalez in right field, making the Sox a considerably worse defensive team.

I like the idea of this game counting for so much, otherwise it’s more like a little league All-Star Game…everybody gets a chance to play, guys swing away where they’d otherwise be taking pitches, rosters get filled with a bunch of closers.

The one area where I do agree with you is roster expansion. It’s really watered down the talent pool. With thirty-four spots and then, what, like 12 replacements in each league, you wind up with close to 100 honors per league. It kind of makes a mockery of the term “All-Star.” Kevin Correia might not think so, but I do.

Mike: Well, my response to that is what ought to be more important is the six months of regular season, not an exhibition that, despite it counting, is not even contested by the best players in each league, but by the five longest-tenured Yankees, the three highest-paid Red Sox, a couple randomly-selected Phillies, Cardinals, and Braves and a few middle relievers having flukey seasons.

That’s an oversimplification, but if this is really going to count, the rosters ought not to be selected by people who would put the likes of Derek Jeter and Tyler Clippard on the team while omitting Andrew McCutchen and Tommy Hanson. With the rules governing pitcher use and the rosters swelling to 34 players before all the injury replacements, we’re one step away from “This One Counts” being decided by Gerardo Parra and Doug Fister. Fine players, but hardly appointment television.

I also disagree that the “little league” all-star format is a bad thing. If anything, the inclusion of big-name players without the performance to warrant inclusion (see Jason Varitek, 2008) begs the game to be more of a spectacle. These guys play 162 games that count, so why not have them let their hair down? What’s wrong with Larry Walker batting right-handed against Randy Johnson, or Barry Bonds picking up Torii Hunter and carrying him off the field? Let’s have some fun.

But you know what? It doesn’t actually matter all that much. The winning league in the All-Star Game got home-field advantage in 2003, and the last seven-game World Series was in 2002. Why even bother with the pretense of this being anything but a spectacle? The NHL, NBA, MLS, and NFL don’t. It’s a showcase for fans to see players who aren’t on TV every single night, so get everyone in the game and let them have fun.

Corey: Why should the regular season determine home-field if AL and NL teams have such different schedules? The NL is clearly still the inferior league, this was the 8th straight year the AL dominated interleague. At least the ASG adds an element of fairness in that it’s a crapshoot for either side, and while the teams may not be equally talented, it adds the storyline of each league fighting for their circuit-mates. Prince Fielder and Roy Halladay, Matt Holliday and Tim Lincecum teaming for a common purpose? Sign me up. If it had been this way all along — in all sports or just this one — would we question the method?

Mike: More different than the schedules is the team. Why should the Phillies have lost home-field in a potential Game 7 in 2008 because Dan Uggla humped the bunk, with Cole Hamels, Ryan Howard, Jimmy Rollins, and Pat Burrell, among others, watching on television? That seems less fair to me than the schedule difference. If you’re looking for the “crapshoot,” why not just have a coin toss, or alternate which league has home-field advantage the way they used to?

But the main thing for me in this discussion is why the All-Star game has turned into a farce. The pretense of competition didn’t help, because, honestly we watch for the spectacle (see the celebrity softball game and the home run derby). But the real problem is interleague play. The novelty of interleague play has worn off for me, and we’re no longer fascinated by how Greg Maddux would do against Ken Griffey Jr., which we now can see (or its equivalent, Roy Halladay against Jose Bautista) in the regular season. Let me share my favorite all-star memory.

Joe Carter’s first game in Philadelphia after the 1993 World Series was the 1996 All-Star Game, and the boos that rained down on him from the Vet were amazing. Imagine if that return had been spoiled by a meaningless June weekend series in 1994. For a kid growing up with only the Phillies local broadcast, the All-Star game was my only chance to see the likes of Wade Boggs, Griffey, and Randy Johnson apart from the playoffs. Being able to see the best of the NL against the best of the AL is now commonplace, and that removes a lot of the novelty from what was, at its best, a novelty event. Not only did it crystalize the rivalry between the leagues, but interleague play removed one of the things that set baseball apart from the other major league sports.

But let’s be honest, as much as I wish the All-Star Game was done differently, I’ll still be watching tonight. Despite MLB’s best efforts, it’s still a bunch of fun. I just wish we’d drop the pretense and go all in on the fun part.

Corey: My final response would be this … the NBA All-Star game is all about fun, and as a result no defense is played. The Pro Bowl is watched by 73 people. The major league All-Star Game, in today’s world of short attention spans, is unwatchable over the long haul for the casual fan and meaningless to the die-hard. Either side would have incentive to tune out after three innings. The casuals got to see the introductions and top-notch players, while the die-hards could get their baseball fix for an hour before they realize that the game carries no real significance.

The inclusion of a meaningful stipulation ensures that some sort of drama will take place, as much if not more drama than what you’ll find on the Tuesday night network lineup. To me, this is fun. It’s fun to get all of the most talented players in one place, but still wager on something in the process. I watch the Home Run Derby every year with a bunch of friends, and every year we wager on each player’s home run total. Round-by-round, whoever pins the exact number gets the pot. It makes a silly event count for something. It gives us a 163rd regular season game to pick sides for. Maybe fans in Houston and Chicago don’t care if the NL wins or loses, but fans in Philly, Atlanta, St. Louis, Milwaukee, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh (weird), San Fran, Arizona, and to some extent Colorado and New York most certainly do.