Tom's Two Cents: MLB All-Star's Highs (and Lows)

Another All-Star week has come and gone, and for a brief moment, baseball took center stage. The stars were out, the bats were loud, and for once, MLB felt like it had a real grip on how to run a marquee event. I was locked in from the Derby to the final pitch of the All-Star Game… and then came that ending. Look, there was a lot to love this year—but there were also a couple of decisions that reminded me why MLB still manages to trip over itself just when things are going smoothly. Let’s talk about what they got right, what they got wrong, and why Pete Alonso should probably smash a trophy just on principle.

Home Run Derby

The 2025 Home Run Derby was flat-out fun. I know the new format ruffled a few feathers—there’s always going to be a sect of fans who miss the old-school 10-out system—but personally, I loved the updated structure. The mix of timed rounds with a 3- or 4-out bonus system was exactly what the event needed. It kept things moving. It kept the drama. If a matchup was close, the tension built naturally with the out system. If it was a blowout? We moved on. And that’s a win.

I still remember being 11 years old, watching a Derby drag past 11:30 p.m., grinding through another round that felt like it would never end. It’s easy to glorify that old format with nostalgia goggles, but the truth is, those rounds often crawled. This version? Crisp, tense, and made-for-TV. Cal Raleigh stole the show with his mix of raw power and strategy—switching sides mid-round, launching a 471-foot moonshot, and walking away with the title. Byron Buxton made his own kind of noise early, cranking out four homers before recording a single out in bonus time. It was a night of loud bats. The Derby felt modern, but still meaningful—and that’s a tough balance to obtain.

All-Star Game

The All-Star Game itself, for about eight and a half innings, was shaping up to be the cherry on top of a stellar break. The NL jumped out early, with Ketel Marte flashing his clutch gene and Pete Alonso launching a missile of a three-run homer in the sixth. That blast made it 6–0 and, for a moment, it looked like the AL was toast. But true to the script of an All-Star Game, the American League battled back. Brent Rooker sparked the rally in the seventh, and Steven Kwan tied it up in the ninth with a gritty infield single. It was everything you want: star power, late-inning drama, and a little bit of unpredictability.

And then… The MLB decided that a mini home run derby should replace extra innings and decide the game. Look -- I get the thinking -- it’s flashy, it’s fun, and it puts a bow on the evening. But it also felt like a mockery of the game I love. The All-Star Game is supposed to be baseball’s crown jewel, not a minor league experiment. I don’t mind the swing-off in the Derby. It belongs there. Here? It cheapened the moment. You play nine innings of serious, entertaining baseball -- only to settle it with a gimmick.

Pete Alonso was flat-out robbed of the All-Star Game MVP. Kyle Schwarber took home the trophy after his three-swing firework-show in the swing-off -- sure, it was a moment, it was fun, it made for a cool clip. But let’s not pretend that was the most valuable performance of the night. Alonso’s three-run bomb in the sixth was the swing that broke open the game. Without it, there is no cushion, there is no comeback by the AL, and there damn sure isn’t a swing-off. MLB had a choice: reward the guy who dominated in the real, actual baseball portion of the game, or hand it to the guy who got hot in the made-for-TikTok gimmick at the end. And they chose the headline.

Soapbox: The Transfer Portal Is Just Free Agency With Worse Agents

Can we please stop pretending the transfer portal is some noble beacon of opportunity and second chances? It’s not. It’s college football’s version of free agency—only without the contracts, without the structure, and with “agents” who are really just uncles, high school coaches, or whoever runs the kid’s Instagram page. The portal isn’t about fit or development anymore—it’s about vibes, cash offers, and legal tampering.

You’ve got 19-year-olds jumping ship after one fall camp because a coach didn’t retweet their commitment video. You’ve got starters transferring after starting in bowl games. And let’s not forget the coaches, whispering through backchannels, poaching rosters before guys even finish unpacking their freshman dorms. It’s not a system—it’s chaos dressed up as freedom.

Worse still, there’s no contract holding anyone to anything. You can transfer, start, be a key player, and leave again—all within 18 months. No buyouts. No commitments. It’s Tinder for disgruntled linebackers. And in this mess, where’s the accountability? Where’s the culture-building? Programs are getting gutted before they can even develop chemistry.

Yes, kids should have mobility. Yes, coaches have always been able to leave. But if this is going to be the new normal, then treat it like what it is: free agency. Give these kids actual representation. Multi-year deals. Guardrails. Something. Because right now, it’s the Wild West.

Thanks for reading. Appreciate you letting me vent. See you next week!