All-Star Lame
I can't get over all the hoopla over a meaningless July baseball game up here in New York.
"The last All-Star game ever to be played at Yankee Stadium," is what we've been hearing all about for at least a week now. Who cares?
In its 85-year-history, tonight's Midsummer Classic is only the fourth one to be played at what surely is one of the more famous sporting facilities around the world. But baseball's all-star game is weak, and really all all-star exhibitions are stupid.
Now if the Yankees make it to the World Series and they're playing a Game 7 in the Bronx come October, by all means, give the House That Ruth Built a proper sendoff.
But for now, enough with the hyperbole, perhaps best -- or worst -- expressed by none other than Gay-Rod himself, he of the perfect hair and orange face: "It's truly magical." Magical is what PR people and losers with no originality say when they want to overstate something's worth.
Labels: Sports
3 Comments:
All of the All Star games just suck. Except the WNBA.
My friendship with you is magical.
More importantly, the all star parade is messing up my lunch. I can't cross 6th avenue to get to the Italian deli I wanted to hit today. Just another reason why I hate baseball.
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