Circus of the All Stars

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not much into sports. I’m not rabidly against them, much in the same way I’m not religious but don’t run around blowing up churches. I simply choose not have them affect my life. This works pretty well unless the All-Star game is being held locally and I work spitting distance from the ballpark.

Yesterday afternoon, I ducked out of the office and walked to the nearest corner store, about a block away. Security was heavy and the cops had blocked off several streets. Despite the increased police presence, scalpers were still in full force. I have no idea how much the tickets cost, but seeing that event parking was going for $45, they must not have been cheap. It was hours before the game started but the streets were packed with sports fans, milling around and buying knockoff hats and jerseys to show their support for their team.

This struck me as odd. It was the All-Star game. There were no teams in the usual sense of the word. Perhaps one was supposed to root for their favorite league, but I doubt many people have much of a preference. They like the Giants or Red Sox, and hate the Yankees, but that’s about it. The event is all about the individual talent, as evidenced by the the Home Run Derby the day before where top sluggers got pussy-pitched to see how many balls they could knock out of the park. This provided all the thrills of actual home runs without the inconvenience of there being any real challenge.

After work, the game was on as I sat in the Argus having an evening cocktail. One of the leagues was winning, but I didn’t pay much attention until the seventh-inning stretch. Two women took to the field then. One played an Uber-Casio keyboard thing while the other sang. The sound on the TV was off so I couldn’t tell what was going on. I hoped that since this was San Francisco, it would be some sort of performance art where the vocalist showed her disdain for the patriarchy by eating her own tampon. No such luck. The song ended and the camera cut to an outsized Old Glory blowing gently in the breeze.

This was way too wholesome for my liking so I ordered another drink.

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