Something pretty wild happened at the end of the All-Star Game Tuesday night: It ended up being a blast! I never saw it coming. For seven or eight innings, it was the typical All-Star Game slog, overloaded with dumb on-the-field interviews and “Does John Smoltz like baseball even a little bit?” questions and relentless pitching changes and “these guys are All-Stars?” moments.

In the second inning — THE SECOND INNING — we had an actual All-Star matchup between Padres middle reliever Jason Adam and Orioles first baseman Ryan O’Hearn, and honestly, with all due respect to those perfectly fine veterans, if you’re already down to Adam v. O’Hearn before 6 p.m. Pacific time, what’s even the point of calling this an All-Star Game?

Sure, there were entertaining breaks now and then — Clayton Kershaw basically doing a live podcast on the mound during his two-thirds of an inning was pretty fun. Shohei Ohtani vs. Tarik Skubal was pretty fun. Cal Raleigh being so audibly unhappy with being mic’d up was pretty fun.

But mostly, eh, you know, it was another All-Star Game. We stood for cancer. We watched 24 different pitchers in one game. We saw Joe Torre walk out to make a pitching change. We saw a Henry Aaron 715 salute that was strong on pyrotechnics and hype and weak on actually celebrating the courage and sacrifice it took for Aaron to get to 715.

Again: It was another All-Star Game.

And then, in the ninth inning, completely out of nowhere — and with most of the viewing audience already asleep or away, I imagine — it turned into a party.

I wonder if the people running baseball will learn the lessons. No, check that, I know the people running baseball will NOT learn the lessons because they never do. But there are definite lessons to be learned.

Lesson 1: You’ve GOT to find a way to get stars into the All-Star game in the last inning.

I happen to know from various sources that for years now, there has been an effort to change the All-Star Game rules so that pulled players can be reinserted into the game in the ninth. Remember that crazy “Golden At-Bat” rule that MLB was talking about for a little while last year — the one that was going to allow managers to send any player up to the plate once per game? As I understand it, that evolved from talk about reinserting stars in the ninth inning of the All-Star game.

MLB kept balking at the All-Star change — probably because the Players’ Union screamed bloody murder and probably because there was all this “But if you put Shohei back into hit, he might get hurt!” handwringing from teams and probably because, at the end of the day, MLB doesn’t do fun things.

But Tuesday night, we saw EXACTLY why they should do it. The American League starting lineup — except for the heart — was an absolute absurdity. I mean, look at this:

  1. Gleyber Torres, 2b

  2. Riley Greene, lf

  3. Aaron Judge, rf

  4. Cal Raleigh, c

  5. Vladimir Guerrero Jr., 1b

  6. Ryan O’Hearn, dh

  7. Junior Caminero, 3b

  8. Javy Báez, cf

  9. Jacob Wilson, ss

Fine players all, but that’s an All-Star team? I mean, you have the Judge-Raleigh-Vladdy middle, but how many of those other guys has a casual fan even heard of?*

*They may have heard of Javy Báez but only in the “Wait, that guy’s good again?” way … to which the response has to be: “Um, sort of. Báez is sort of good. He’s not nearly as good as Cedanne Rafaela or Julio Rodriguez, but he’s sort of good.”

Here, though, was the advantage of having such a meh starting lineup — when the ninth inning came along, and the American League trailed by two runs, they had actual stars in the lineup. Byron Buxton is a star, and he roped a double off Padres pitching monster Robert Suarez. OK! Bobby Witt Jr. is a gigantic star, and he cracked a double, too. Hey now! This was getting good!

The National League then put in the Mets’ closer Edwin Díaz, who is about as big a star as a reliever can be.

Up stepped Jazz Chisholm Jr., who has not always played like a star but has always BEEN a star, you know, because of his charisma and style, and he obliterated a ball down the first-base line, 105-mph off the bat, and Atlanta’s Matt Olson (who is kind of a star) made a fantastic defensive play, and this was riveting!

Up stepped Cleveland’s Steven Kwan, who probably doesn’t quite qualify as a star, but he’s somewhat known, and he specifically does one thing incredibly well: He puts bat on ball. Díaz, on the mound, also does one thing incredibly well: He strikes out hitters.

Díaz got ahead in the count 1-2. He fired a 100-mph fastball at the very top of the zone, the ultimate strikeout pitch. Kwan fouled it off.

Whoa!

Díaz fired a 99-mph high fastball on the very edge of the outside corner — another ultimate strikeout pitch. Kwan fouled it off.

Whoa!

And finally, Díaz fired a 100-mph fastball about three inches inside, a bat-breaking marvel, and Kwan chopped it to the left side of the infield where there were no fielders and beat out the infield single, and the game was tied.

Whoa!

I honestly cannot remember the last time that the All-Star Game felt like this!

And so much of it was because the fans voted for Gleyber Torres, Jacob Wilson, and Javy Báez as starters, leaving the actual fun players for the late innings.

But there was more!

Lesson 2: EMBRACE CHANGE! PLEASE EMBRACE CHANGE!

After Kwan’s infield single, he stole second base — leaving the game in the hands of Díaz and another super-fun player, Seattle’s Randy Arozarena. Again, if MLB would change the substitution rules and players were willing to care even a little bit, this could have been a titanic moment with Aaron Judge or Cal Raleigh at the plate. But OK, that is covered ground, and Arozarena is thrilling in his own ways.

Díaz got ahead 0-2 on a couple of sliders that Arozarena obviously wasn’t expecting.

And on the third pitch, Diáz unloaded the cheese, 99 mph, on the very edge of the plate. So close! The home plate umpire called it a ball. But instead of the game just going on, Díaz aggressively tapped on his cap, signalling that he would protest the call. Challenge time! For the first time, the All-Star Game allowed players to challenge ball-strike calls. To the scoreboard, Robin!

And the animation showed that the ball was … just … barely … by … like … a … millimeter … a … STRIKE.

It was another fantastic moment in a fantastic inning.

It’s time to bring the ball-strike challenge to baseball, like, tomorrow (or I guess Friday since there are no games tomorrow).

Lesson 3: HOME RUN SHOOTOUTS FOR EVERYONE!

OK, settle in, we have A LOT to say about the Home Run Shootout (HRS)* that ended the All-Star Game.

*I guess MLB keeps calling it a Home Run Swing-Off, but I hate that. It’s a shootout.

First … I cannot for the life of me understand why the Fox broadcasting team kept refusing to tell fans that the game might end in an HRS. It’s clear that they were given staunch orders not to mention the shootout — at some point, Joe Davis said something like, “Trust us, you’ll want to stick around,” without explaining what that even meant. I don’t get this at all. I would have been talking about the shootout possibility all game long. Why were they hiding this information?

Second, because Fox kept refusing to talk about it, nobody saw it coming, nobody prepared emotionally for it, nobody even knew the rules. Here was something new and daring and, dare I say it, FUN — each team would send three players to the plate, each with three swings, and the team with the most home runs would win the game? Hello? You might want to prepare us for this.

Three, because nobody knew the rules, nobody understood that ALL players were eligible. So, yes, Shohei Ohtani, Aaron Judge, Ronald Acuña, Vladdy Jr., and the rest were absolutely eligible to hit. Of course, they wouldn’t. They might not even have been at the stadium by then, because, again, nobody seems to care about the All-Star Game. But they were ALLOWED to play. In fact, Pete Alonso — who is rapidly becoming one of my favorite Baseball Oafs — actually took some BP AFTER HE WAS PULLED just in case there was a shootout.

Why can’t everybody be like Pete Alonso?

Four, it makes me so happy that Dave Roberts utterly outmanaged Aaron Boone in the shootout. I mean, this was a chess match between Magnus Carlsen and the Bill Pullman character in “Ruthless People.”*

*Obscure reference, maybe, but one of my all-time favorite movie lines is: ”This could very well be the supidest person on the face of the earth … perhaps we should shoot him.”

Here was the three-person lineup that Dave Roberts put together, given the limitations he had:

  1. Kyle Stowers

  2. Kyle Schwarber

  3. Pete Alonso

Stowers was sort of an odd choice, but he does have 19 homers this year and he poked one out. Schwarbs is obviously made for home run shootouts, and he delivered with three home runs on three swings in a very cool moment. And Alonso didn’t even have to bat … because here’s the three-person lineup that Aaron Boone sent out.

  1. Brent Rooker

  2. Randy Arozarena

  3. Jonathan Aranda

Huh? What? OK, again, he had limited choices. And he was able to convince Rooker to play (even though he had already been pulled from the game), and Rooker mashed a couple of home runs, so that was a win.

Then — Arozarena? With Bobby Witt Jr. and Byron Buxton seemingly available, I don’t think that’s a great choice, but I guess it’s defensible. Arozarena loves the bright lights, right? In fact, just before he hit, Arozarena boldly promised big things. But he only hit one home run.

And then — Jonathan Aranda is just inexplicable. When I first saw that name “Aranda” in the shootout lineup, I honestly thought: “Wait, Joe Randa has a son in the All-Star Game?” Aranda, as you might expect from a player with 21 career home runs, didn’t hit even a medium fly ball. This led to one of the funnier moments of the whole game when he hit his last fly ball, and Joe Davis tried to make it sound like it had a chance, and it dropped like 50 feet into the outfield, like a wet firecracker that doesn’t go off.

So, yeah, the shootout could have been better.

Even as it was: The shootout was GREAT.

I know there are purists who hated it. I get it. I know there are even more purists who would lose their minds if baseball actually used HRS to settle ties in regular-season games. I get that too.

But … I absolutely loved it. It was weird and gimmicky and silly and not especially well thought out … and, again, I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT.

I want this for the regular season. I really do. The zombie runner is just as gimmicky and silly, but a million times less fun. I want home run shootouts for every tie, except I want managers to use their best players, and I want the defensive team to be allowed to put four outfielders out there to rob home runs (if they can), and I want managers to have to explain why they just had a gut feeling that Jonathan Aranda would come through.

I’m telling you, if there was a chance for a home run shootout, more people would stay until the end.

I’m telling you, if there was a home run shootout, teams would be able to use fewer pitchers.

I’m telling you, if there was a home run shootout, teams would have special coaches whose entire jobs were to throw perfect batting practice pitches.

All of these things would be glorious.

MLB has walked backward into something truly fun and new. I’m sure a whole bunch of you think I’ve lost my mind and would be furious if baseball really started having home run shootouts. You’re screaming at me: “That’s not baseball!” I hear you. I really do. But I think it would be baseball, and it would be wonderful.

And, realistically, that’s exactly why MLB won’t do it.

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