EVERY year there is controversy about who gets chosen for the Major League Baseball All-Star Game: the starting position players who are voted in by the fans, and the reserves and pitchers picked by the manager of the previous year's league champion team, who also skippers his loop's stars. Hey, everyone can’t be
on the All-Star teamIn the 1970s and 80s, shameless ballot-box-stuffing fans ("Vote early and often" was their cry) made atrocious choices -- Reggie Jackson and Darryl Strawberry come to mind as players always voted in regardless of what kind of season they were having. Some times they deserved it, many times they didn't.
Strawberry even got 391,970 votes this year. Pretty good for a guy who's been out of commission since the first week of the season.
Then there is the strange case of Sandy Alomar Jr.: Partly because of the dearth of good catchers in the American League in the early 90s and partly because of rookie hype that for some reason wouldn't die, Alomar kept getting voted in despite chronic injuries and anemic stats. Terry Steinbach was obviously the deserving starter most of those years.
Now that Alomar is finally injury-free and living up to his billing, Ivan Rodriguez stands solidly blocking the AL plate -- and probably will long into the next millennium.
The fans seem to have become smarter. It's hard to disagree with this year's choices in both leagues.
BUT the managers with the "opportunity" to pick their pitchers and backups will always catch heat. The decisions can be among the toughest they ever make -- at least with crucial calls during pennant races they have a chance of being right. Choosing all-stars is a no-win situation.
And if it wasn't difficult enough, every team must be represented. (Fans outside of Pittsburgh are asking, "What's a Tony Womack, and why is it an NL all-star?")
If you pick too many of your own guys, you are branded unfair by the rest of the league (and your own front office might even get upset, since it could mean more money dished out in incentive bonuses). Don't select your own boys, and you're a traitor running the risk of hurting your club's morale when the real thing starts again.
Do you give the retiring superstar a curtain call, as Bobby Cox did for Ozzie Smith last year, even though he's flirting with .200?
Do you take five first basemen because they have the best numbers?
And the game itself; do you play to win or do you play everybody?
Do you end up with one of your five first basemen in center field with the game on the line?
I always hate it when guys don't get into the game. In 1971, the White Sox were represented by Bill Melton and Wilbur Wood. Neither played. Dale Murphy honestly looked like he was going to cry one year because he wasn't going to play.
That wasn't a problem from 1959 to 1962: Two all-star games were played each season. I guess it made too much sense to keep doing it.
Do only Ernie Banks and I think this great idea should be resurrected?
Everybody gets at least a few innings. Nobody goes home upset about not playing. Even Tony Womack gets a couple at bats. The manager doesn't totally empty his bench and bullpen and feel vulnerable to emergency.
And the fans get double the fun.
As another aside, there's a notion that interleague play takes away from the specialness of the midsummer classic. Gimme a break! Any kid worth his Strat-o-Matic charts or codger who hangs out in Florida all March knows that it's always fun when Tony Gwynn bats against Randy Johnson, or anytime Junior goes to the wall for a blast by Mike Piazza.
We just wish there was some way Greg Maddux could pitch to Babe Ruth besides on a tabletop or a computer screen.
Dave Reardon is a magazine editor and freelance
writer who has covered Hawaii sports since 1977.
He can be reached via the Star-Bulletin or
by email at reardon@aloha.com.
