Since I started this website three years ago, I can’t ever remember a crazier week in the world of sports than this past one. We had the Major League Baseball's winter meetings mixed with the opening of NBA training camps, which just so happened to be fused into a fun week of college hoops, and the college football coaching carousel nearly spinning off its axis. My only wish is that we could’ve had the WNBA playoffs as a cheery on top of this week’s sports sundae.

I’m kidding on that last one of course. But in all seriousness though, all this sports madness left me in a tough conundrum yesterday morning. At the time, there wasn’t a whole lot to write about; all was quiet on the home-front in basketball (where training camps opened today, and where- at the time- Chris Paul was still comfortably a Hornet), and in baseball things were quiet too, with no apparent player movement beyond “Mark Buehrle going to Florida.” So instead, I wrote a column about Tim Tebow. The timing was nothing, if not weird. Even I’ll admit that.

Still, the column did have some relevance. ...at least for about 30 seconds, until, just minutes after I posted it news broke that Albert Pujols had spurned the Cardinals and was headed to Anaheim (or is that Los Angeles?) to play for the Angels. Could it be true? Could the best player in baseball really be switching leagues and teams at the tail-end of his prime, and doing it in large part to spite the only organization he’d ever called home? It sounded like it couldn’t be real. Until it was.

Which brings us to today, and brings us to our eventual reality: Baseball’s power struggle has shifted out West, and done it on the big bat, and bigger contract of Albert Pujols. Ultimately, I don’t know what it means. Could it be that the Angels are guaranteed their first World Series win since 2002? AL West dominance for years to come? Or are they only guaranteed a week’s worth of headlines in April, followed by 10 years’ worth of big payments into Pujols’ direct deposit account from then on out? Only time will tell.

What I do know though, is that this is big. Like really, really big. And ultimately, it’s also the best thing that could’ve happened to the sport of baseball.

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Over the course of the summer, I’ve gotten a lot of grief from a lot of friends on one particular subject: I don’t write nearly enough about baseball. Understand it’s not that I don’t want to, just that as a columnist, I refuse to discuss subjects that I’m not totally comfortable writing about, and totally comfortable defending to those who don’t agree with me. And all summer long, as I ran this website, launched Crystal Ball Run and worked diligently on a project behind the scenes (that I’ll hopefully be able to tell everyone about within a few weeks), there just wasn’t time for baseball. Not enough time to watch it, and not enough time to write about it. Not if I wanted any semblance of a personal life anyway.

Thankfully though, over the last few weeks as things have slowed down, and as my body has slowly gotten accustomed to getting no more than four or five hours of sleep a night, my schedule opened up, and baseball has crept its way back in. I can’t sit and watch nine innings every night, but I’m glad to say that as the pennant races have heated up, I’ve caught big chunks of games over the last few weeks. Thankfully, that included Wednesday night, which was simply one of the most compelling sports nights I can ever remember.

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On Wednesday, two things happened which shaped the column you’re about to read. They were both conversations, and both centered around baseball, a subject which seems to consume less of my time by the day. Let alone by the year.

The first conversation happened when I co-hosted a radio show with my buddy Marc Ryan. Marc is the morning drive guy on 100.3 The Ticket in Florida, and when I came on with him for the 8 o’clock hour on Wednesday, the discussion began with baseball. Is it a slowly dying sport? Or just one which needs to be modernized a bit? Marc, thought the former. Quite a few of his callers agreed.

The second conversation came with my buddy Steve, who I was visiting in Boston later that afternoon (Ironically I went up to go to a Red Sox game). Understand that Steve is one my best friends in the world and one of my the nicest people you’ll ever meet, not to mention someone who loves baseball about as much as Tiger Woods loves women not named Elin Nodregren. So when he piped up and asked me why I’d been taking cheap shots at baseball in my columns the last few weeks, it got my attention. Steve wasn’t being mean, just generally intrigued: Why wasn’t I writing more about baseball? And when I did, why was I always negative?

The answers to those questions are complicated.

The first is, that as a columnist the only way for me to gain your trust and readership is to write compelling content, content that is well thought out, with strong and intelligent opinions. And the truth is that I just haven’t watched enough baseball this season to have those strong and compelling opinions. You as readers deserve better than anything but a full-formed, well thought out column. I refuse to give you anything less.

Now the next question becomes, “Well why haven’t you been watching baseball?” That’s even more complicated.

 

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Simply put, there’s no easier punch line in sports right now than Major League Baseball. Whether it’s their stubborn stance on instant replay, their archaic refusal to post videos on YouTube, or Frank McCourt cracking open his piggybank to try to make this month’s payroll, the hits just keep on coming. You make fun of Major League Baseball. I do it. Ultimately, we’re all guilty.

At the same time, to their credit, the MLB has at least been proactive in one area: They’re always tinkering with, and improving their All-Star Game.

While the NBA slogs along with a mostly boring dunk contest that few care about (except when Blake Griffin is jumping over cars) and the Pro Bowl brings as much entertainment value to the table as an episode of Franklin and Bash, baseball’s Midsummer Classic is still, to a large degree, a classic. Since the infamous “tie of 2002,” (which was inarguably its lowest point), baseball has done quite a few things to make the event better. They’ve expanded All-Star rosters, let fans vote on the final player onto each team, and allowed certain guys (most notably pitchers who throw on Sunday) to be replaced, all in the hopes of making things more entertaining. Bud Selig doesn’t do a ton a right, but damn it, at least he’s trying.

Still, that doesn’t mean that the All-Star Game can’t be improved in at least some regards.

Here are 10 Ideas I came up with.

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Only someone like me would work on vacation.

Well, I guess” work” is a relative term, especially when you write about sports for a living, and more importantly, when your vacation includes heading out to Arizona to lay in the sun, watch some spring training baseball, and spend your time- in general- just abusing your body with copious amounts of alcohol and Mexican food. Trust me when I say that after five days away, I’m carrying an extra 12 lbs, and am one chin and an 89 mph fastball away from being Bartolo Colon. I wish I was kidding.

Either way, the best part of the trip was undoubtedly the baseball. On Friday, my friends and I caught the second half of a Cubs-Royals game in Surprise, and then followed up with some Giants-Dodgers in Glendale. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a pen and paper to record everything from the second game. But I did for the first.

Here’s how it went down:
 

 

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Part of being a sportswriter these days is always being on top of your stuff. I check my e-mail constantly. I’m on Twitter all day. I don’t sleep as much, or as well as I used to, since I’m always afraid that if I go to bed too early, or sleep in too late, I might miss something important. At this point, I’m even up on Saturday’s and Sunday’s before 7:00 a.m. Tough life, huh?

So with that said, it’s only logical that right before I went to bed on Wednesday night, I did my final Twitter/e-mail check of the evening. Granted, I’d just done the same check 20 minutes before. But again it’s just part of that whole “staying on top of your stuff,” thing.

I wasn’t expecting to see much in that final go around, until I logged on Twitter and saw, one, minor, innocuous posting: Ken Rosenthal was reporting that Carl Crawford and the Red Sox had just agreed to a seven year, $142 million contract.

Wait, what?

I had literally read a half an hour before that Crawford to the Angels was a done deal. That all that was left to consummate the deal was dot the I’s and cross the T’s. Was Crawford to the Sox for real?

Quickly I flipped on Sportscenter and saw nothing. I checked ESPN.com, and all that was showing up was the archaic Crawford to the Angels article from 20 minutes before. MLB Network had nothing. But as the night rolled on, the Tweets just kept piling up, and apparently, Carl Crawford was going to be a Red Sock. One of my favorite players had just signed on to play for my favorite team, yet as I flipped off the lights and rolled around in bed, I’ve got to admit that the signing left me a bit uneasy. Let me explain. 

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Admit it, you’re enjoying these baseball playoffs. The excitement. The do-or-die nature of every game. Brian Wilson’s epic beard-mohawk combo that makes him look like a guy begging for change outside McDonald’s.

The--

Wait, what’s that? You’re not enjoying these playoffs? Really? Maybe I’m the only one.

It’s true. Despite everything that’s happened so far- Roy Halladay’s no-hitter, the Rangers winning three games in Tampa, the Twins…well never mind, the Twins just suck- these are the least talked about baseball playoffs that I can remember; maybe of my entire lifetime. Chatting with friends on the phone and communicating with people on Twitter, it seems like most of America has the same interest in the baseball postseason that C.C. Sabathia does for fruits and vegetables. None.

Now, we all know the reasons why. The games are too long. Our attention spans are too short. The same teams win every year. The new ones aren’t compelling. And with all that, I’m starting to wonder, is baseball losing steam as a mainstream sport? I’m afraid it might be, considering that the most talked about thing from the first week of the playoffs (other than Halladay’s no-hitter), were those lousy Conan O’Brien blimp commercials. America just doesn’t seem to care about baseball.

Which is a shame, because I love baseball. As I mentioned last week, I grew up around the game, and played it all the way through the end of high school. I probably understand the intricacies of it as well as any sport. Yet even for me, Aaron Torres- a guy who writes about sports for a living- some of these games are a tad bit boring. Which isn’t good.

It’s also why I’m here to make some suggestions on how to improve the product.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to give you anything stupid, like “We should have Brett Favre and Jenn Sterger call games together,” or “Let Pauly D from Jersey Shore throw out the first pitch of the World Series.” As much as like that second idea, even I’m not dumb enough to think it could actually happen.

Nope, these are 10 real suggestions. Ten ways to hopefully appease old fans, cultivate new ones, and maybe in the process, pump a little life back into a dying sport. Baseball might not be able to change the product on the field, but they can change the way they produce and present it.

Here’s some food for thought. And as always, I encourage you to share your ideas.
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These past few weeks have probably been pretty tough for baseball fans. Truthfully, I wouldn’t know. I really haven’t been around.

It’s not that I don’t love baseball, because I do. I grew up around it, and in one of those houses where there was always a game on in the background. To this day, whenever we have family get togethers, the sport always dominates our dinner conversation. My uncle is even one of those old-school fans who arranges his entire day around whether the Yankees are playing in the afternoon or at night. Baseball really was my first love as a sports fan.

But just like the rest of America, I’ve been swept up in football fever since the middle of August (For the record, football fever is kind of like Bieber-fever. Only with fewer bad haircuts). I spent the end of the summer and early fall breaking down the teams, getting to know the new names and longing to hear Al Michaels voice, the way a Weight Watchers participant counts down the days until he or she can eat a cheeseburger again. Not only has been baseball not been on my mind for awhile now, it hasn’t even been on my radar. And that’s kind of a big deal, since you know, I write about sports for a living!

But now, just one day and a few games into the playoffs, I’m back. And it’s because of Roy Halladay.
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Confession time: I've got a new vice.

Don't worry though, it's not alcohol or drugs, fast cars or loose women. It's not dark chocolate or cigarettes. And despite what rumors might be floating around out there about me, it's definitely not late night re-runs of Sex and the City. I swear.

Nope, my new vice is Tampa Bay Rays baseball, and truthfully, I can't enough. More importantly, after watching them pick apart the Yankees this weekend, I think we've officially got our favorites to win the American League.

Before I go any further, please understand that while the Rays may be my vice, the Red Sox are still my team. I root for Boston through the good and the bad, the pretty and ugly, whether Terry Francona is winning Manager of the Year or picking his nose in the dugout of a last place team. And I still most definitely root for Boston when they play Tampa Bay.

But with the Red Sox season stuck in neutral (Honestly, I give the team credit for not folding, but am realistic. With the way Tampa Bay and New York are playing, it doesn't seem like we're catching either), and generally more uneventful than a senior citizens bingo game, I find myself watching the Rays more and more.
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At this point in my life, I'm rarely overwhelmed by anything in sports anymore.

Sure every once in awhile there are some pleasant surprises: Landon Donovan's goal against Algeria, Stephen Strasburg's start against the Pirates, even seeing Danica Patrick in a bathing suit for the first time. But for the most part, sports are an endless conveyor belt of 7-2  baseball games, two touchdown football blowouts and Louis Oosthuzien's 32 stroke British Open victory. In other words, everything kind of runs together. Nothing sticks out.

So heading down to Baltimore for my first trip to Camden Yards this week, I wasn't really expecting to be impressed. Even after hearing good things from everyone I talked to, I was still a little dubious. After all, what could a 20-year-old ballpark, home to a last place team really offer?

A lot apparently.

Because I can't lie, I didn't just like Camden Yards. I loved it. Loved everything about it.

The stadium is the perfect mix of old school sports charm and new school comfort, creativity and amenities. While having the ambiance of a stadium built 50 years ago, Camden Yards offers everything you'd want out of a contemporary ball park: Great sightlines, amazing food, clean and accessible bathrooms, you name it.

So for those of you who've never been, what do you need to know?

Here are the answers, in my Idiot's Guide To Camden Yards...

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