All-Star Addiction?

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I admit it. No matter how awful the selection process, how meaningless the game I still watch baseball's All-Star Game each year. I am an addict. (Although if I did miss it I don't think I'd go into withdrawal.)

I know the game is not what it once was. Apart from the World Series, it used to be the only time you could see the stars from each league face off. And those stars seemed to play it like they wanted to win. There was no cheering when someone made a nice catch to send them back to the dugout. No one left the ballpark after their stint in the game was over to catch the ESPYs. Just thinking about the ESPYs makes the All-Star game seem suddenly important.

Some of that nonsense hasn't been seen the last few years. But the game doesn't have the thrills it used to. My earliest All-Star memory is a vague recollection of the 1969 game. Actually, what I remember most is the dugouts overflowing with rainwater and the game being postponed. They played that game on Wednesday afternoon.

It could be that the 1970 cemented my affinity for the Mid-Summer Classic: Pete Rose scoring the winning run by running over Ray Fosse (who knew he was voted as the starter in '71 despite being injured?) is an iconic moment. I was 11 and there was no doubt the game was for real.

I was at the '75 game at Milwaukee County Stadium. It was Hank Aaron's last appearance as an All-Star and had the odd coincidence of the co-MVPs having similar names: Bill Madlock and Jon Matlack for the National League. I think that was the first time I was sprayed with beer at a ballpark. The guy behind me had managed to get a six-pack and I guess it was shaken, not stirred, on the way in.

Through the years, I've always managed to see the game. When I worked nights I would tape it and watch it later. For several years now I've gotten together with my friend, John, and whoever else wants to watch the game.

It's become more about the tradition and camaraderie than the game. Maybe I'm not addicted after all. This therapy session worked. Thanks for listening.

Rose and the Hall of Fame

Pete Rose bared his soul today: He wants to be voted into the Hall of Fame while he can still enjoy it. Makes sense for him. But I don't believe he deserves the honor.

Rose in the 1970s was the living embodiment of baseball and competition. He earned the nickname "Charlie Hustle" through his never-say-die style. (As I wrote yesterday, his collision with Ray Fosse is an iconic play of the era.)

Rose was aware of the game's history and his 44-game hitting streak and march to overtake Ty Cobb's all-time hits record were riveting. Some may have found him arrogant, but nobody could deny that he was always exciting, doing anything to win.

Then came his fall from grace. While manager of the Cincinnati Reds he was accused of betting on his team's games. He may have always bet on his team to win, but the rule on this was always clear. It was even posted in clubhouses for all to see. No gambling on baseball. Period.

That's why it was such a shock. Pete Rose knew the history of the game. How could he have violated such a well-known rule? It's clear he needed the action. His lust (or addiction) for it got him in trouble.

It's a shame. But I would never vote him into the Hall. Rose broke baseball's cardinal rule. The story of the 1919 Black Sox has been told over and over as warning. Rose knew all about it.

Remember his greatness and a player. Don't forget his accomplishments. But don't enshrine him in the Hall of Fame.

Excuse Me, I Want to Score

Pete Rose slams into catcher Ray Fosse
in the 1970 All-Star Game.

Buster Posey broke his ankle protecting home plate last night. He's not the first catcher to be injured blocking a runner from the dish. But to hear his agent tell it, he should be the last.

Jeff Berry, the agent for the San Francisco Giants' catcher, likened collisions at the plate to helmet-to-helmet hits in the NFL. He called for an end to the practice of runners slamming into catchers. The debate has started. Jim Rice, the Boston Red Sox star of the 1970s and '80s, has already weighed in, saying such plays are a part of the game.

I don't know when base runners first decided slamming into the catcher was a good idea. The first time I remember it being controversial was Pete Rose's destruction of Ray Fosse in the 1970 All-Star Game. Mostly I remember the controversy being about whether such a rough play had a place in a game that doesn't count in the standings.

Plays at the plate are among the most exciting. The crowd is roaring, the catcher is waiting for the ball and the runner is barreling toward him. The moment when ball and runner arrive at the plate is thrilling. The results, like last night, can be devastating for the catcher. Sometimes, of course, the runner gets the worst of it. Nyjer Morgan, of the Milwaukee Brewers, was injured earlier this season scoring a key run. Last year, Morgan ignited a brawl on a similar play.

In the more than 40 years I have been watching big league ball, collisions at the plate have been part of the game. With emotions raw, sometimes they have sparked fights. It's a shame when someone gets injured. But now a star has been injured.

Will baseball change its rules? I wouldn't think so. But when a star gets injured you never know. Certainly the vote from the Bay Area would be for a change.

If a change is decided on, baseball need look nor further than the NCAA, which outlaws a runner from lowering his shoulder into a catcher who is blocking the plate while in possession of the ball. The colleges still allow collisions, but ban the most violent kind. The replay of the Posey play shows him blocking the plate before the ball arrives. So maybe no rules would have helped him.

Maybe it's worth considering.

Baseball's 'Unbreakable' Records

Ted Williams, left, and Joe DiMaggio completed feats
in 1941 that might never be broken.

It's funny how over the years the so-called "holy grail" of baseball's unbreakable records has shifted. As one after another was surpassed, a new record was "the" one that was unassailable.

Yesterday was the 70th anniversary of the start of Joe DiMaggio's hitting streak. This is also the 70th anniversary of Ted Williams being the last to bat .400. Both records seem unlikely to be broken. But the list of unbreakable records that have fallen is impressive.

When Henry Aaron was on his way to becoming baseball's home run champion, it was almost unimaginable that Babe Ruth's mark was going to be surpassed. 

I was lucky enough to be at Wrigley Field to see Aaron hit No. 702. My Dad took the family and my cousin to see the former Milwaukee Braves star play the woeful Chicago Cubs. I was a confirmed Cubbie fan back then, but that day I was rooting for Hammerin' Hank.