Great Moments in Revisionist History: All-Star Game Edition

Readers, I think it comes as no surprise to anyone that this is a dull period in the sporting world. Meaningful baseball hasn’t been played since last weekend, the football preseason is weeks away, and soccer remains to be really stupid. It has gotten so bad in my household, I’ve been ceaselessly checking to see if my local basketball team has signed something called a Nic Batum.

Last night I was re-watching an episode of Hillbilly Handfishin’ on Animal Planet, and wishing desperately that there were baseball games to be seen. It seemed as if I were destined to spend yet another night of despair at the bottom of an absinthe bottle, when I got an idea.

The 2012 All-Star Game was a bit of a snoozer, frankly. Though it is has been historically tough to glean enjoyment out of an All-Star Game in general, this year seemed even worse. I chose to play a reenactment of the game in my head, inserting interesting events where I deemed fit. I was not writing this down at the time, but the following is my best recollection of what transpired.


It was a quiet day in the land of Kauffmanicorn, a wholesome region located in the Middle-West of Horsehidea. A game of base ball was to be played between all of Horsehidea’s heroes. This collection of brave and honorable warriors was known as All-Stars, and they played base ball with each other once each year. This All-Star Game started like any other, with the Anthem of Horsehidea taking at least twice as long as it should.

When all of the sudden…

A giant explosion struck in the middle of the outfield!

“Help us All-Stars!” cried the peasants. “You are the strongest in all the land! Save us! Also, will you sign our base balls!?”

Then, the fire rushed away and revealed a mass of blinding-white light. The peasants and All-Stars alike shielded their eyes with their hands, for the illumination was too powerful to view.

The light dimmed, and as the All-Stars lowered their hands to gaze upon the orb of energy, a face appeared.

Bautistamir, having readied his bat for battle, dropped his weapon in amazement.

Harperuman was frozen with fear as he gazed upon the sight.

Pandamere stared, his mouth open, as he looked upon something he could not understand.

Butlerthor, his gullet full with mead since the day before, simply laughed.

Everyone at the base ball game stared at up at the most frightening and blood-chilling sight on which they had ever laid their eyes.

“It is I, Seliguman!” boomed a voice emanating from the glowing face. “I have come to ruin your silly game! You supposed heroes play this game like it is some kind of folly, like it should be fun! But I am here to tell you that this game is not for fun. This time, it counts!”

“Silence, fiend!” shouted Vottotumous. “We wish that this game not hold sway of any kind. We simply want to give entertainment to these kind villagers and have fun.”

“Tough shit!” hollered Seliguman. “I was given stewardship over this game long ago by the rich and powerful of old. I say this game counts, and it shall be so.”

“Not so fast, Seliguman!” cried Braunethor, with a look of anger/hunger painted across his face. “If you want to change the rules, you’ll have to get by me first!”

As soon as Braunethor finished his sentence, Seliguman struck him down with a mighty fireball.

It was clear that Seliguman possessed great magic.

LaRussaden showed a look of concern.

The All-Stars cried for Troutamous, the finest of the new line of heroes, to strike down Seligumas. Troutamous ran with all his might toward his foe. He leapt in the air and attempted to bring down the enemy with a mighty kick.

But Troutamous simply bounced off the light, and flew back down to the ground.


Chipperdod, the eldest of the All-Stars backed away.

“I have seen too many winters. I do not possess the fortitude to defeat this great power,” he explained. “I’ll see you around.”

Butlerthor cackled sloppily.

“We’re doomed!” exclaimed Hanrahandoc, one of the cave-dwelling people from the North.

“No we’re not,” said a voice from behind the line of heroes.

Melkyridor strode his way to the front of the line.

“I am Melkyridor, from the land of Franciscatur. I am the possessor of the sacred crystal bat of lopsided trades. With this, I shall defeat you, Seligumas!”

Seligumas laughed.

“Silly man with your silly beard! You are powerless against me!”

With that, Melkyridor swung his bat at the air.

His swing created a wind so forceful, Seligumas disintegrated into thin air.

The menace was gone, and the peasants rejoiced.

“Hooray Melkyridor! You saved us! You saved base ball! Can we have your autograph?!”

“Nice work, Melkyridor,” swooned a pair of handsome maidens.

The All-Stars all rejoiced, as well. Their dark overlord was gone, and they were free to play a fun, casual game of base ball. From this point forward, no All-Star Game would hold any merit over who had the opportunity to be the best heroes in all of Horsehidea. The All-Star Game was to be an exhibition, and nothing more.


That’s pretty much how it went. You’ll have to forgive my weak grasp of the genre. I haven’t read a fantasy novel since An Inconvenient Truth, so I’m a little rusty.

Baseball starts up again tonight, fair readers. Hopefully, this story will hold you over until then.

Print This Post

David G. Temple is the Managing Editor of TechGraphs and a contributor to FanGraphs, NotGraphs and The Hardball Times. He hosts the award-eligible podcast Stealing Home. Dayn Perry once called him a "Bible Made of Lasers." Follow him on Twitter @davidgtemple.

Sort by:   newest | oldest | most voted

And far off in a corner, Umpiribald shouted “The villagers have come to see ME!”


Kinda reminds me of the Gravy Train.


I am surprised at the lack of Bard Dickeyadorus, the great enchanter, denied an opportunity to open this exhibition by LaRussaden, to allow old battlement mates, Cainius and Bustermyr take the field together.


This is so damn good. NotGraphs is killing it lately.


Bridgekeeper: What… is your name?
Sir Bavasi: My name is Sir Bavasi of Seattleot.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your quest?
Sir Bavasi: To seek the Sacred Crystal Bat of Lopsided Trades.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your favorite style of beard?
Sir Bavasi: Van Dyke. No, Padlock… aaaaaaaaghh!

Well-Beered Englishman
Well-Beered Englishman

Post of the year.

Well-Beered Englishman
Well-Beered Englishman

My favorite line is: “Butlerthor cackled sloppily.”

Sabermetric Solutions
Sabermetric Solutions

I like the names of the pictures. Ex: “pandamouthagape”,
larussasideglance” and “kauffmankaboom”.

Sam Samson
Sam Samson

I am reminded why I rarely read NotGraphs.