Unbelievable. I forgot about the All-Star Game. Totally.
I did not watch the Home Run Derby. I don’t even know who’s playing. Though, I heard something about a lame scheme to make the game “count” by giving the winner home field advantage in the World Series.
Maybe it was the infuriating tie game last season (not the game itself, but Selig Monster’s calling it off). Maybe it was last year’s anti-climatic salary battle (the one where they kept telling us how lucky we were that they’d settled things at the last minute instead of before the season like the should have). Maybe it’s post-strike syndrome that’s finally caught up with me. Or maybe I’m having too much fun with imaginary baseball to care about the real thing. Either way, I forgot about something that was a tradition.
Dad never cared about the Home Run Derby, even though I got all excited about it for some reason. But the All-Star Game was father-son bonding time. We always watched it together. Even when he was umpiring softball and didn’t get home until the middle of it, I’d be there waiting for him. Last year was the first one without him, but I still made my date. I still settled in to watch on schedule. I still had all the same baseball conversations with him (if only in my head). I’m not a big sports fan, really. Other than baseball, I never watch any sports on TV. But if there is nothing else I miss about my Dad and father-in-law, it’s just sitting around with them and acting like I know all about baseball, football, hockey and basketball, yelling at the TV and arguing about stats.
I can’t believe that Major League Baseball has finally made me forget all that.
