Easily the worst sports day of the year. I mean the dog days of summer are rough enough without having to listen to Chris Berman come up with 600 adjectives to describe how some roided up monster launched, jacked, hammered, roped, destroyed, tattooed, crushed, skyed, murdered, smashed, or donkey kong'd a ball into the upper deck.
Yup, only way they'll ever get me to attend a second of All-Star weekend is if my ticket comes with a snorkel and a margarita.
PS - No idea who won cause I started watching The River Wild after Big Papi blamed his music for not being able to hit.
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