American League 4-National League 3 (15 innings)

• The game itself:
  

This was a beautifully played game; well-pitched; (mostly) well-defended; and (mostly) well managed as both sides walked the tightrope trying to win and get as many players into the game as humanly possible; but again, the whole problem of trying to walk that tightrope comes up repeatedly.
Miguel Tejada looked like a player on a mission to show the world that he didn't need

PEDs to perform at a high level; Dan Uggla's defensive gaffes proved why Joe Girardi wanted to play him in left field in the spring of 2006 and why his future is likely at a corner position on the infield or outfield; the pitchers wriggled in and out of trouble and picked up their teammates when necessary; and it ended appropriately on a close play at the plate on a sacrifice fly. Even though this was nearly a five hour marathon, it was only because it went fifteen innings and not because it was dragged out by interminable commercials and other delays like many of these games are; had the game ended in nine innings, it would've been an early end (time-wise), especially for an All Star game.
Despite the American League's supposed superiority after winning these eleven games in a row, the idea that they're the "dominant" league is a misnomer because the majority of the wins haven't been dominating performances; they've almost all been competitive and hinged on one or two plays or performances that they AL has gotten and the NL hasn't at crucial times.

• The management from the commissioner's office on down:

Jayson Stark's report on the game included this little nugget from the commissioner, relayed to the managers during the game:

"...the commissioner's people send word to your people that this game must be decided somehow..."

That's all well-and-good, but what would Bud Selig's suggestion have been to Terry

Francona or Clint Hurdle if it went much farther and either had run out of pitchers? If I were Rays owner Stuart Sternberg, I would've been on the phone with Selig after Scott Kazmir's second inning (especially since he started shaking his arm and losing the strike zone) and said in no uncertain terms, "my pitcher's not going back out there and I don't care what you do to me or what you have to do for another pitcher". Not only did Kazmir throw over 100 pitches on Sunday, he's got a history of arm problems and is on a reeling team that's in contention for a playoff spot. There was always a possibility, if left unchecked, that the adrenaline of the situation and desire to impress his teammates and fans that Kazmir

was going to go overboard and try to throw too hard as Pedro Martinez did years ago; Scott Kazmir's arm and career is more important than coming to a conclusion in the All Star game.
The fine line that managers try to walk in the new era of the All Star game "counting" does more harm than good. Joe Buck and Tim McCarver on the Fox broadcast brought up an excellent point about Francona having to be concerned with not only winning the game, but handling another team's players (especially a division rival) and keeping them healthy. Clint Hurdle handled the pitching staff for the NL better than Francona did for the AL; but I'm wondering why Hurdle didn't bunt in the ninth and eleventh innings when the NL got the leadoff batter on, but decided to bunt in the twelfth. It made no sense; why bunt at one point and not the other?

• The nonsense of the All Star game "counting":

The whole fallacy of the game "counting" for something is an attempt to trick people who don't pay attention to the game for its perceived lack of meaning into watching it. In reality, the home field advantage in the World Series is meaningless. This isn't football, basketball, hockey or soccer; baseball is not a sport in which simply playing at home is going to be a determining factor in the outcome of the game. Of course there are strategic decisions----the DH for example----that are affected by the venue, but it's way down on the list of reasons why a team wins or loses. We're talking about one game out of a possible seven; instead of three maximum games at home, the winning league gets four----it's not likely to make that much of a difference either way.
What the idea of making the game "count" for something has done is put the managers in the situation of having the straddle the line of trying to win for their league, protecting their players and getting everyone possible into the game. It's another half-baked attempt to drum up interest in what amounts to an exhibition game that should be taken seriously, but in a more lighthearted way than the suggestion of the game "counting" dictates.

ARod's Tabloid Fix; The All Star Game

• Alex Rodriguez is Jose Canseco without the steroids and with a facade of etiquette:

ARod can deny any attempts to get his name in the gossip columns; he can excoriate his

agent and render him as little more than an out-of-control mouthpiece; he can portray himself as this humble guy who was given a level of talent that few have or ever will see and he's having trouble dealing with everything that comes along with that, but he's becoming a parody of his own making. The similarities between ARod and another lightning rod for controversy----Jose Canseco----can't be ignored.
The only differences are that Canseco cared what people thought about him, but did and said what he wanted anyway; the controversy and

attention he coveted and gained were a circle; Canseco wanted the tabloid attention and wasn't shy in admitting it. ARod cares about how he's perceived and displays this wide-eyed shock when so much attention is paid to his personal life; when his behaviors are tabloid fodder; when people are disgusted when he interferes with the World Series with the announcement of his decision to opt out of his contract and lays the blame at the feet of his agent Scott Boras, who was seen to be the puppetmaster for the ARod marionette of money and awards. Boras played the bad cop to ARod's innocent, "who me?" attitude of wanting to do what's best for team and for his family.

With each new incident though, it becomes clear who the master of garnering attention is; who's really calling the shots in the world of ARod and it turns out that the one who's responsible for the behaviors, on and off the field, is ARod.
Personally, I couldn't care less who ARod dates or whether he and his wife are having marital problems; but this whole attitude that ARod has of feigned shock that his personal life is of any interest to anyone is pure absurdity; the guy's been linked to Madonna! The question, "what did he

think was going to happen?" is moot because ARod was smart enough to know what was going to happen; he was going to get into the tabloids all around the world as he was in the midst of a divorce proceeding that was probably going to happen with or without Madonna.
Canseco was rumored to have been involved with Madonna as well and courted controversy on purpose without the facade of class that ARod tries to present. The reality is that ARod is worse than Canseco in this vein because he acts as if he's uninterested in the attention his antics attract when in reality, he covets it as much as Canseco did.

• The All Star selections:

I generally don't pay much attention to the All Star selections anymore; there's always a

group of players who get snubbed and others who are selected for reasons other than their performance. That being said, it's still silly to have the game "count" for home field advantage in the World Series when the selection process is so arbitrary. I have a suggestion if MLB wants the game to "count" in some fashion: there should be two All Star Games----one selected by the fans as it is now and another by the players with the All Stars playing the game all out as if it's a regular season game.
The suggestion was made during the World Baseball Classic that instead of playing the games in spring training, a week should be taken at mid-season in lieu of the All Star Game and the tournament should be held then. They could do something similar for the All Star Game. Have all the competitions, home run derbies and whatever on the Monday and Tuesday, then get all the players whose numbers dictate that they're All Stars play a game on Friday to determine home field and superiority of either league. The way it's done now always leaves out players who should be on the team as reserves and when the game meant nothing, what difference did it make? But the attempt to drum up interest by giving the winning

league home field advantage in the World Series is sending mixed signals.
The managers (one of whom, Terry Francona, has a vested interest in the home field advantage because there's a pretty good chance that the Red Sox are going to be playing in the World Series) have to not only try and win the game for their league, but they have to get as many players into the game as possible; they're walking a line to try and please everyone and it's not working. This can be solved by having two games and taking the entire week off instead of just three days.