Dear Fox Sports,

Hi! You don't know me, but I've been watching for you some time. Actually, we spent a lot of time together last night—you see, I used to love the All-Star Game, and I still watch it over some misguided combination of nostalgia and obligation. Well, anyway, I can't remember precisely the point that watching the Midsummer Classic began to feel like watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, but if I had to bet, it would be somewhere around the time you started broadcasting it.

Now, I'm not trying to be mean, here. It's important to remember that we all have things we're good at and things we're not so good at. I, for instance, make a great pie crust but can't hold a tune. So if I'm going to invite millions of Americans over to my house, I am much more likely to make a pie than to start covering Mariah Carey. It's just more polite. You're very good at many things. You have really amazing robot animation and laser sound effects; I don't want to take anything away from the lasers. But, the thing is, you totally suck at broadcasting baseball.

But, really, is this such shocking news? You had to know it, deep in your hearts. See, I think if you have to spend a lot time thinking about how you're going to keep people entertained during a baseball game, then you're probably not the best entity to broadcast said game.

I mean, do you remember the pregame? Your broadcasters got to interview one of the greatest baseball announcers of all time. They got to talk to Ernie Harwell! And you know what happened? He talked for a bit and Jeannie Zelasko cut him off. She cut him off. It was sort of like when I cut off a Yo Yo Ma performance of Bach's "Prelude to Cello Suite No. 1" to play "When the Saints Go Marching In" on my recorder.

And you know why she cut him off? So they could show some schlub from Texas participating in the Taco Bell Throw The Ball At The Damn Target. Jeannie Zelasko cut off Ernie Harwell to sell freakin' chalupas. (Was this our punishment for not voting in Jeter? If so, we're really, really sorry.) That wouldn't be all the fast food hawked by Fox announcers, though—Joe Buck did a Burger King promo then announced that the whole Detroit crowd was "having it their way." This is a time he could have been talking about baseball.

In fact, the only time the announcers seemed at all interested in talking about baseball was when they were interviewing the managers as the game was going on. I know that's old news now, but if we need to hear that Terry Francoma is having a great time, couldn't we do it before the inning actually starts? Or—I know—how about after the freakin' game?

Credit where credit is due: I do have to compliment you, though, on your Mound Cam innovation. We got an angle on the pitchers we never thought we'd get, and I have to say if I ever run a Name That Butt: Special All-Star Edition, your viewers will be all over it. And should we do a Name That Crotch, they'll be good at that, too!

Here's the other thing. It doesn't make the game better to have the fans vote for the MVP, it makes it stupider. I know it's a difficult distinction, but it's a really important one. And while it's all well and good to have Chevrolet give Miggy a Corvette, Miggy doesn't need a Corvette. Batgirl needs a Corvette.

So, anyway, what's important here is that you gave it the old college try. You've been monopolizing the sport for years now, robbing it of any sort of—oh—heritage, poetry, class. And I think it's time to focus your energy on something else. Something a little more flashy. Football, say. Or NASCAR. Or Battlebots. I'll even make you a pie.

Yours,
Batgirl