The All-Star Thing

Though it will never show in the record books, the niftiest squeeze play of the 1970 baseball season was pulled off by Commissioner Bowie Kuhn. When he first announced that All-Star Game selection would be done by the fans instead of the players, the "dream game" suddenly became a nightmare. Customers, rightfully charging that several deserving prospects were left off the ballot, howled about "Bowie's boo-boo." Players complained about the "meaningless popularity contest." As it happened, a large write-in vote rectified most of the injustices of the ballot. And a poll of the players showed that they agreed with twelve of the 16 starters (managers pick the pitchers) selected by the fans. Though Kuhn may not have planned it that way, the controversy served his original intent: provoking interest in what many fans and players have come to regard as an all-star bore.

The stirring came none too soon for last week's All-Star Game in Cincinnati's new Riverfront Stadium. Through seven listless innings, the best that the super sluggers of both leagues could manage was nine singles and twelve strikeouts. The first extra-base hit did not come until the eighth inning, when the Orioles' Brooks Robinson tripled and the American Leaguers took a 4-to-1 lead. The National Leaguers, powered by the Giants' Dick Dietz and Willie McCovey, finally woke up in the ninth to tie the score and send the game into extra innings. The spectators who remained, including Richard Nixon, were rewarded with a rare slam-bang finish.

In the last half of the twelfth, the Reds' Pete Rose singled, advanced to second, and then came barreling for home on a single to centerfield by the Cubs' Jim Hickman. His way blocked by the Indians' Ray Fosse, Rose hurtled headlong into the burly catcher, knocked him into a somersault and landed splat on the plate for the winning run. "If I had slid," Rose said after the National League's 5-to-4 victory, "I would have broken both legs." As it was, Rose suffered a bruised thigh and Fosse a severely wrenched shoulder--injuries that will temporarily sideline both players. "I'm sorry Ray's hurt," Rose said. Then he added an utterly unnecessary observation: "I play to win."

Not all the performers share Rose's enthusiasm for the All-Star thing. Despite Bowie Kuhn's drum beating for "one of the nation's most glamorous sporting events," some top players would rather take the day off than risk an injury in a game that has no bearing on the pennant race. Recently faced with the prospect of suiting up for his 13th glamorous event, the Pirates' Roberto Clemente said: "To hell with the All-Star Game. I can use the rest." Roberto, who pleaded a "pain in the neck," finally agreed to play--but only after National League President Charles ("Chub") Feeney threatened to crack down on cop-outs. Al Kaline and Dick McAuliffe of the Detroit Tigers had themselves scratched from the A.L. roster because of disabling injuries. Two days before the All-Star encounter, though, both men recovered long enough to play against the Baltimore Orioles.

Beg-Offs. Out of personal pride if nothing else, such stars as McCovey and Dietz turned out for the game despite their very real injuries. Nonetheless, as Yankee Manager Ralph Houk explains:

"One of the hardest things to manage is an All-Star Game. To begin with, 50% of your players don't want to be there. And 75% want you to get them in and out as quickly as possible so they can catch a plane to someplace. Then the guy you plan on pitching usually comes to you and says, 'I pitched Sunday and I got this little bit of stiffness here in the elbow. If you really need me, well, maybe I can go an inning at the most.' " Baltimore's Earl Weaver, manager of this year's A.L. squad, feels that "if a player begs off, the Players' Association should have a committee to judge him accordingly." Noting that the receipts of the game go into the players' pension fund, Weaver adds: "After all, the money is for them."

Fines for Malingerers. The problem of motivation is by no means unique to baseball's All-Stars. Last season, after seven of the ten starting quarterbacks in the American Football League declined to play in the All-Star contest because of supposed injuries, there were cries that malingerers should be fined. In professional basketball, a game that turns on practiced teamwork, a meeting of All-Stars is little more than disorganized hotshots gunning the ball at the basket from all angles. Before last week's game, Weaver tried to fire up his team by pointing out that the American League had lost eleven of the past twelve All-Star outings. Trouble is, league allegiance does not run as deep as team allegiance. Thus only the likes of Pete Rose, who is known around the league as Charlie Hustle, would say--and mean: "If I can change the score, I'm not going to worry about getting hurt."

Baseball and other professional sports will continue to hurt as long as they try to pass off All-Star games as do-or-die struggles. To stimulate the interest of fans, most of whom couldn't care less about which league wins, Kuhn & Co. must first stimulate the players.

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