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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If you're like me and have been distracted by the World Cup and LeBron-gate over these past few weeks, you were probably shocked to learn that baseball's midway point is already upon us.

So to help you get into the swing of things as we head toward the playoffs, here are 50 Reasons To Be Excited For The Second Half of the season...

1. Major League Baseball Home Run Leader, Jose Bautista: So are we sure George Mitchell caught everyone who was using steroids? Just asking.

2. The Hope That The Cardinals Make An Unexpected Run To The World Series: Just to see Tony LaRussa managing the 2011 All-Star game in Phoenix.

3. The Ongoing Texas Rangers Bankruptcy Trial: You knew things were bad when reports came out last week, that Nolan Ryan was opening a lemonade stand.

4. David Wright and “The Situation”: I don’t care if the Mets end up making the playoffs or not. This video clip will always be the highlight of their 2010 season.

5. The White Sox Resurgence: Question: We always hear about Brian Cashman and Theo Epstein, but why doesn’t Kenny Williams ever get credit for being one of the elite GM’s in baseball? This roster has been made over more times than Joan Rivers face, yet here come the White Sox again, closing in on another division title.

6. The Pittsburgh Pirates: Going on 14 straight sub .500 seasons and counting. Well at least Pittsburgh still has that Roethlisberger guy… Umm, never mind.

7. The Summer of Strasburg: Strasburg has sold more jersey’s in six months than anyone ever has as a rookie. I don’t care what the experts say, he should have been on the All-Star team.

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When news broke Tuesday morning that Yankees owner George Steinbrenner had passed, predictably, I got a few texts from friends asking if I was planning on writing about “The Boss.”

At first I hesitated. Too much had happened before I was even born. I had never met him in person. What perspective could I possibly give that a million other writers couldn’t?

Then I really started to think about George. Think about the way he ran his organization with the iron fist of a South American dictator. Think about the way he controlled every word that came in and out his clubhouse like the Russians controlled information during the Cold War. Think about the way he struck fear into multi-millionaire ballplayers and fired managers like they were clerks at CVS. Think about the way he was equal parts loathed, feared and at the same time respected by fans of the opposition.

I really started to think about how there might be a million more Mark Cuban’s in my lifetime. But there will never be anyone quite like George.
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I choose write about sports for a living for three reasons:

1. I Love Writing: Always have, always will. The first time I realized it was when my third grade teacher gave my class a free writing assignment, and I wrote a piece called, “The Top Newcomers in College Basketball.” Everyone else decided to write about their summer vacation, the Tickle Me Elmo they got for Christmas or the color orange. I went in a different direction. Their loss I guess.

2. I Love Sports: I suppose that goes without saying. Whenever you rearrange your Saturday afternoon to catch the College Softball World Series (And you’re not related to any of the players), you know you’ve got a problem.

3. I Love Sharing My Opinion and Getting Feedback From My Readers: That alone is the biggest reason I get up every day, and write on this website. The idea that one person, somewhere, is typing my domain name into their browser and hoping to get my opinion on the World Series, Final Four or Tiger Woods’ latest dalliance is what drives me. Hearing back from all of you- whether you agree or disagree- is my favorite part of this job.

But today, I’m putting all that aside. I’m not writing to provide any insight, or to stir up a debate or argument.

I’m writing for myself. Writing so that in 10, 20 or 30 years, I can look back in my archives and tell my children and grandchildren everything about Tuesday night: The sights and sounds, and most importantly the emotions of Stephen Strasburg’s first career Major League start.

Because Tuesday wasn’t just about Strasburg, but about you and me too. About being a sports fan, and about watching history unfold in front of our eyes.

So excuse me this morning if I’m being selfish by choosing to write for myself. But these are memories I want to have forever.
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