MILWAUKEE – This was to be the shining moment of Bud Selig’s baseball career: The All-Star Game in his hometown, in the beautiful ballpark he lobbied to build.
It couldn’t have turned out worse. It went on forever and solved nothing, following the same path as labor strife during Bud’s tumultuous reign as baseball’s commissioner. In the end, it was all tied up, same as the labor situation.
The fans in Bud’s hometown booed his decision – booed it with great feeling and awful language. They spoke their minds in unison, beseeching Bud to, “Let them play! Let them play!”
When the announcement was made that the game would not be played beyond the 11th inning because both teams had run out of pitchers, Selig sat nervously in his field box near the National League dugout, sweating as the jeers mounted.
The man’s face screamed pain. The game ended in a 7-7 tie. And the first Ted Williams All-Star Game MVP winner was . . .
Nobody.
“It is very regrettable and very sad,” Selig said of the outcome.
Managers Joe Torre and Bob Brenly wanted to get all the players into the game so eagerly – and were overly protective of the last two pitchers. Philadelphia’s Vicente Padilla and Seattle’s Freddy Garcia pitched the final two innings. Neither man had pitched since the Fourth of July.
They couldn’t have pitched at least one more inning? Or two more innings? Padilla couldn’t; he was hurt, so an exception would have been needed to allow someone else to return to the game and pitch. There was no easy solution. If the game remained tied after, say, 13 innings, they could have gotten creative.
Jack McDowell, the former All-Star pitcher for the White Sox, Yankees and Indians – in town for his rock-and-roll band’s concert, was in the house. They could have given him an American League uniform, told him to warm up and let it fly. Rob Dibble, the old Reds closer, was also there, working with ESPN radio. He could have pitched for the National League. It would have been memorable – a better solution than letting it end in a tie.
“It would have been a worse farce if we tried something bizarre,” Selig said.
Said Brenly: “These organizations and other managers entrust us with their players. … It’s highly improper to try to place blame on anybody for this.”
It wasn’t all Selig’s fault, but he’ll forever be booed for it. “Bud must go! Bud must go! Bud must go!” chanted the angry fans who lingered longest.
“I want a refund,” one of them hollered after the chant faded away.
Another sentiment gathered volume: “Let ’em strike! Let ’em strike! Let ’em strike!”
Selig’s response to this will be to expand future All-Star team rosters.
Long before the game ended in a tie, there were signs that this was less than a game anyway.
Television, otherwise known as the rights holder, had to go too far – because that’s what television does. With respected play-by-play man Joe Buck acting as moderator, Torre and Brenly carried on a conversation from their dugouts. They exchanged a ha ha here and a ha ha there as action was unfolding on the field.
Somewhere along the way, it was forgotten that the reason baseball’s All-Star Game stands so far above the rest is because of the matchups that happen during the game. Sadly, it has degenerated from a game to a game show, a yuk yuk here and a yuk yuk there, here a yuk, there a yuk everywhere a yuk yuk.
Torre told Brenly if he could take a Mulligan, he would play the infield back and everybody had a chuckle.
The last laugh was on baseball.