All crap game

Someone wake me up tomorrow and tell me who wins this game.

Or not. It means very little in the long run.

I cared more for the outcome of the Home Run Derby yesterday than I do for who gets Home Field Advantage.

32 bored rich guys, 18 of which should be taking the field.

47 minutes of boring, incessant pablum before a single pitch is thrown. 6 to 0 first inning, in which Mike Piazza ensures that the all of the AL team gets into the game. The worst play by play I’ve ever heard, combined with badly overlapping audio, video, and animated images.

And Yanni.

Freaking Yanni.

I thought this was my game. Wasn’t this game supposed to be about me, and what I want from baseball?

Yawn-i.

When “Scooter”, Fox’s equivalent of clippy came one to explain a slider to the kids at home, I’d had enough.

I’ve left exactly three baseball games in my life before the final out. One of which involved traveling to my third professional ballgame of the day. One involved illness, and one involved keeping to a timetable that got blown anyway by lousy bus service.

But before today, I’ve never turned the broadcast off in disgust. I sat through the game that shall not be named, watching our bar tab dive deep into triple digits. I’ve fallen asleep, and then awakened to the 9th inning. I’ve checked scores while on a date, knowing it was a loss.

But tonight Fox , in spite of the coolest camera angles ever shown in an MLB broadcast, had me voting with my eyes, fingers, and feet.

I think I’ll watch the Matrix. Or at least, the 3 1/2th film in the franchise. While also pointless, at least that might be fun.

Or perhaps, I’ll spend another 5 hours leveling up 1’s and 0’s.

Because, this time it counts.