“How to fix the All-Star Game” stories run pretty thick this time of year. Everyone looks at the rosters and, more significantly, looks at all of the fill-ins and beg-outs after the rosters are announced and realizes that there has to be a better way to run a railroad.
I’m sort of blah about it all because, even though I will watch the game, I have more or less given up on the All-Star Game as some sort of important or particularly worthy pursuit. Occasionally interesting, sure, but asking how to fix it is sort of like asking how I’m going to fix that swag lamp in the corner of the basement rec room over the beanbag chair. Eh, what’s the point?
Put people still try, and as far as those efforts go, Jeff Passan’s proposals over at Yahoo! are some of the better ones I’ve seen. I think the key is the requirement that starters and starting pitchers play four or five innings. Because really, it’s the token player usage and constant pitching changes which kill the proceedings more than anything. I’d like to see how Roy Halladay adjusts to facing a whole lineup of good hitters, some of them he seems twice, more than I want to see him mow down four dudes and then leave.
And yeah, Wily Mo Pena in the Home Run Derby seems pretty essential to me.
Alex Rodriguez’s transition into retirement has featured a serious move into the business world. He has gone back to school, worked seriously on investments and has started his own corporation. Yes, he’s set for life after making more money than any baseball player in history, but even if his bank account wasn’t fat, you get the sense that he’d be OK given what we’ve seen of his work ethic and savvy in recent years.
He’s going to be getting another paycheck soon, though. For hosting a reality show featuring athletes who are not in as good a financial shape as A-Rod is:
Interesting. Hopefully, like so many other reality shows featuring the formerly rich and famous, this one is not exploitative. Not gonna hold my breath because that’s what that genre is all about, unfortunately, but here’s hoping A-Rod can help some folks with this.
Bill Livingston of the Cleveland Plain Dealer is a Hall of Fame voter. In the past he has voted for players who used PEDs, but he’s never been totally happy with it, seeing the whole PED mess as a dilemma for voters.
On the one hand he doesn’t like voting for users and doesn’t like harming those who were clean by shifting votes away from them, but on the other hand, he doesn’t want to pretend history didn’t happen and that baseball hasn’t been filled with cheaters forever. What to do?
This year he decided to abstain altogether. A fair and noble act if one is as conflicted as Livingston happens to be. Except . . . he didn’t actually abstain:
Major league baseball will confer bronzed immortality on a few players Wednesday when the results of the national baseball writers’ balloting for the Hall of Fame will be announced.
I had a 2017 ballot. I returned it signed, but blank, with an explanatory note.
A blank ballot, signed and submitted, is not an abstention. It’s counted as a vote for no one. Each “no” vote increases the denominator in the calculation of whether or not a candidate has received 75% of the vote and has gained induction. An abstention, however, would not. So, in effect, Livingston has voted against all of the players on the ballot, both PED-tainted and clean, even though it appears that that was not his intention.
This is the second time in three years a Cleveland writer has had . . . issues with his Hall of Fame ballot. In the 2014-15 voting period, Paul Hoynes simply lost his ballot. Now Livingston misunderstood how to abstain.
I worry quite often that Ohio is gonna mess up a major election. I guess I’m just worrying about the wrong election.