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For this year’s All-Star Game, the folks who run the show decided to include a pitcher who has made, let’s see here, five starts in his entire Major League Baseball career, which total time logged consists of, hang on, carry the one…‘bout a month so far.
But hey, at least he has pitched a total of, wait just one sec — oh, I’ve got it, 25 2/3 big league innings. Revel in the gravitas!
What I’ve just described is not actually an issue. I should clarify: It’s not an issue to me. The pitcher, Milwaukee right-hander Jacob Misiorowski, has been baseball’s most fun mid-season story, and he’s already 4-1, and he has 33 strikeouts in those 25 2/3 innings, and in his debut he threw 14 pitches over 100 mph, and people have been talking about him nonstop since his promotion to the bigs, and —
Look, I feel like we’ve discussed this before, but this is an exhibition game.
Ah, but here we diverge. Is the All-Star Game really just for fun? If so, then why do the contracts of so many high-level MLB players contain bonus clauses for making the squad? Why do we introduce really good players by mentioning how many times they were an All-Star?
Is this game strictly for our amusement? Or does it honestly count for something?
Answer: Yes to both, though not in the same way. Which is clearly part of the issue.
In the days leading to tonight’s game, a couple of well-known veteran players were (to me) surprisingly candid about the fact that Misiorowski was included in the ASG. These players weren’t idly griping or old-manning it; they were standing up for their teammates, who could’ve been chosen for that pitching slot but weren’t.
"What a joke," said the Phillies shortstop Trea Turner said. "That’s (bleeping) terrible. I mean, that’s terrible, dude.”
Turner was upset because Misiorowski’s addition meant there was no room for either of two Phillies pitchers who were certainly All-Star worthy: left-handers Cristopher Sanchez (8-2, 2.50 ERA) and Ranger Suarez (7-3, 1.94). Both were All-Stars last year.
“It’s not the All-Star Game in the sense that the best players go there, or people who have had the best season,” Turner said. “It’s whoever sells the most tickets or has been put on social media the most.”
Mets broadcaster Ron Darling, a former pitcher, noted that Misiorowski himself isn’t the object of his scorn, since the rookie didn’t do anything besides perform really well, but Darling nevertheless called Misiorowski’s inclusion “kind of a joke.” Added another Phillies player, Nick Castellanos, “It’s turning into the Savannah Bananas…Major League Baseball is really just focusing on the most marketable players.”
Well…yeah. But I don’t blame Turner and Castellanos for being upset. Their teammates would straight-up benefit from an All-Star selection — and as many such selections as any of them can compile during their years in the bigs. They’re a counting stat when we try to summarize careers, and they are a part of players’ introductions to every future speech or meet-and-greet corporate event they headline.
Cristopher Sanchez had a $50,000 All-Star bonus clause in his contract, which he received last year even though he ultimately declined to play. All-Stars also get paid for showing up; members of this year’s winning team will get about $25,000 each, in addition to bagloads of swag, first-class flights and accommodations, national broadcast exposure, and general strokery. Don’t tell them it doesn’t matter.
And yet! Forever and ever, fans have controlled the guts of the ASG voting process — about as sure a sign as MLB can send that this event is primarily a show. This year, the fans elected the starting position players and designated hitters for each league. If they screw it up and the best third baseman or right fielder doesn’t actually get in, or the fans of one franchise embarrassingly overload the system, whaddaya want from us? We let you vote.
This isn’t new stuff. Remember the old punch-ballot days? (You don’t have to answer.) Baseball’s industry executives want the fans to feel enfranchised. So yes, it is a popularity contest — literally so.
The All-Star Game has always walked this sword’s edge. It has either counted for something or counted for nothing, depending upon the era and the commissioner, and the players have either wanted to bash each other’s brains in or play grabass at second base. We’re currently in the grabass phase, but to the players, it still matters a heck of a lot whether or not they hear their names called out as All-Stars.
Why? They’re told so.
That’s loopy, but I get it. Dodgers manager Dave Roberts, who is leading the National League team tonight, talked himself into a right fair pretzel trying to both-sides this topic Monday. "I think for me, kind of my north star is the All-Star Game should be the game's best players," Roberts said. Then he added, “It's about the fans and what the fans want to see."
Wait.
But you understand the inherent contradiction. At any rate, Roberts said he plans to bring Misiorowski into the game as early as the fifth inning, “and it's going to be electric. So the fans, the media, you're going to love it."
I’m on board with that, but then I’m on board with letting the fans pick every player in the game, not just the starters. We’d slap a governor on the voting process so that no single team got all its uniform numbers selected, and every franchise would be represented, but on balance, I completely favor treating this game as the exhibition that it is. Exhibition. The good sense of the word. Putting a fun product out there to make people remember that they don’t actually hate baseball; they just hate how their team has been playing lately.
I cannot remember an All-Star final score, put it that way. They ended one in a tie, right?
Oh: As for All-Star bonus clauses being included in contracts, this will be stricken. Stricken, I tell you.
Why so serious? It’s a playdate.
Tremendous. Count me in. Well-scribed!
…I know I don’t have to answer remembering this, but…at least the old punch-ballot system never had a “hanging chad” (or did it❓)🤔