They just don’t make the All-Stars like they used to. Or maybe because I’m the age I am, the stars look bigger in retrospect. But the sight of future Hall of Famers Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Roberto Clemente, Mickey Mantle, and Sandy Koufax playing in the same game was a sight to behold. You knew, even then, that they were the greats whose all-star status wasn’t just for a season or two or three. They were clearly destined for baseball immortality.
Who are the stars today who even come close? Bryce Harper? Aaron Judge? Ronald Acuña? Max Scherzer? I guess so.
I used to really look forward to the All-Star Game every year. Now? Meh. It doesn’t help at all that MLB, in some sort of money grab, has suited the all-stars in the most hideous uniforms ever to come out of the Nike drawing room. It’s hard to look past them.
Granted, this year’s uniforms aren’t as sad as previous looks that appeared to have had their origins in a federal prison exercise yard. I think the best you can say for them is that they have a Texas feel to them, site of this year’s game, and that they’re “cute.” But, oddly enough, they resemble the very first All-Star uniforms from 1933, which made me wonder when they went to players wearing their own team’s uniforms. Whenever it was, it was a great idea that should’ve lasted longer.
It was so much fun to see players from the Braves slap hands with someone from the Phillies, or see a Dodger encouraging a Giant with a pat on the back. If there wasn’t a dollar to be made on these travesties, they wouldn’t make them, I suppose. I’d just like to know…who’s buying these things?
Anyway, the All-Star Game was always special for me. I went to my first one in old Comiskey Park in Chicago in 1983. I was reporting for the Coors Sports Page on TBS at the time, and this was our chance to return to the birthplace of the midsummer classic that started 50 years earlier.
Ever thinking outside the box, I had an idea. Instead of having viewers think it was my first All-Star Game, why not tell them I’d been to them all? And not only that, but that over the years, I had passed on my vast knowledge of baseball to some of the game’s legends. Yes, I was only 30 at the time, but this was TV, where it must be true. Plus, I got to meet and have a little fun with some of the game’s greats, Hall of Famers all…none of whom are with us anymore.
So, this is my annual tribute to the greatest sport of all, and what should be its most fun exhibition, no matter what MLB does to mess it up.
And kids, if you’re curious about that Mr. Coffee reference—Google it…or ask your parents.
Oops. Before I fixed it, I mistakenly had me at 33 years old in 1983. Let's make that 30. Thank you!
Great Substack story Meat !!
Pee Wee Reese, Warren Spahn, and Duke Snider!!!