I’ve been aware of baseball for a while now. I can tell you that my Ted Williams signed and authenticated photograph is still hidden safely away so that muggers and thieves can’t easily access it. I can tell you that Red Sox and Yankees fans are both pussies, and you all should be rooting for the Chicago Cubs. Even Ted Williams wanted to play for the Cubs, but he had a dreadful fear of bears, and so as it would happen he never played for them.

I hate all sports, including baseball, and though everyone keeps sending me tweets or facebook messages telling me I need to watch this game, or see so-and-so in action, I remain unswayed: baseball is not a game.

You’ve got these people–MEN, really–standing around a field doing almost nothing for 70% of the time, these fans (more obsessed with statistics arbitrarily decided to be important than watching the events in front of them), and oodles of merchandise scored more often than runs. Some “games” can last for hours with no runs scored at all. Famously, the Met-Astros “game” of 1968 had 23 1/2 innings with no one scoring a single run.

There has been some debate about certain sports like curling among the masses, general conversation that goes something like this: “Curling isn’t a sport!”. And this may be true. But curling is still a game. A real actual game. It has duration, and players; and people who watch it pay attention to those stones and sweepers. Most importantly, it’s in the Olympics. Something baseball can no longer boast.

That’s sad, really, as baseball was given medal status in the Barcelona Summer Olympics in 1992, only to have it rescinded for the future of Olympics, including the 2012 Summer games in London, England. It was the first sport ousted since water polo in 1936.  Though baseball has been an exhibition sport since 1904, it has still not been granted legitimacy in the Olympic games despite everyone in the whole entire world watching it, and understanding how it works.

If baseball had some kind of awards show, or third-party recognition it would gain a lot more momentum toward being an actual “game”. The World Series is just an excuse for baseball players to perform their theater for their “fans”, and the Hall of Fame is little more than an abstract showing of players with the largest salaries, or the most fans. They may indeed be very good at their sport, but merit alone does not legitimize baseball into gamehood.

I recall a moment in time where I was browsing the local videogame store, and in walked the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen in such a place. He was tall, muscular, and had a sort of Matthew McConaughey charm. Not the typical customer, indeed. I’m ridiculously brave, and I planned to walk up to him and ask him about his gaming interests, hoping to strike a chord and get some for Mamma. As I drew nearer, I saw him browsing games and he picked up a copy of the latest MLB title from the shelf. I immediately lost all interest. This McConaughey impersonator was decidedly a fan of the worst delusion in sports, a man like that was clearly lacking in good taste, as well as judgement. Not only that, but he purchased a videogame version of a sport that can never be a game; not even if it’s made into a videogame. What girl would ever mack on a guy like that? He might as well be Carrot Top.

Overall, baseball will never be a real game, at least not during the lifespan of anyone who is alive now to disagree with me. It’s impossible! Not a videogame version, nor a film version, nor international appeal has been able to do it yet. You couldn’t even try to turn it into a CCG: because it’s been tried, and all that results is CC. That’s right Collectable Cards, minus the Game.

I rest my case.

Note: Careful observation will reveal satirical parallels with this article written by Roger Ebert and my own article. Mine’s better because I didn’t spend 90% of my page loading Youtube videos. Plus, more people agree with me.

For example, it can take the balls off of epic.

You know what I’m talking about. Suddenly getting a free size upgrade on your coffee is EPIC, or saying something clever about your friend’s mom. Something like “We told her that drinks were ‘on the house’ and she grabbed a ladder.” It doesn’t matter. I hate your mom.

Epic used to mean something. Now it’s ruined by overuse. $10 off the Starcraft Battlechest is NOT epic. OWNING a life-size model of a Protoss is. Having an extra fiver is not epic. Getting attacked by a shark–and living–is. Going bowling with your stupid friends is not epic. Bowling a 300 game is.

In the old days, when someone wanted to get your fucking attention, it was an effort of will to present you with something so out there, so absolutely in-your-face that you had to give pause. Your only recourse: awe.

Those were the days when you could tell an alien was bad-ass because it could pick up Lt. Worf and hurl him across the bridge of the Enterprise. You paid attention. That was not regular shit. Regular shit like “Blah, blah, blah, we’re going to blow up the Enterprise” did not even get your brain on vibrate. You see that all the time.

Is this a reflection of lowering standards? Do you find excellence in mundanity? Or are you forgetting there’s a spectrum of things between “meh” and “epic” you’re just not using because you’re lazy? Let’s try a few examples.

“My horse just leaped over my little brother!”

This is an example of “Sweet, dude!!” One where something has occurred to get your attention, and is unusual for sure! But it’s lacking a certain awesome-du-jour that becomes truly impressive. It’s pretty cool, but not gosu.

“I have a foil Masticore!!”

This is an example of no one gives a shit. Please go share your pointless story with someone else. Unless…

“I only need one Oath of Druids in order to complete my M:tG deck for this tournament, I need to submit my deck in five minutes, and no one will trade with me for anything but a Masticore. This one jackass has extra Oaths and won’t even let me borrow one with collateral. This is the worst! Hmmm, I have just enough money to buy ONE booster pack of Urza’s Destiny–what the heck, it’s the newest expansion right now.” [rip open pack] “SHIT! I just got a foil Masticore!!”

THAT sir, is pretty darned amazing.

All the douches: “Hey, can I trade you for that? I’ll give you this Oath of Druids”

Now here’s what Epic is.

[Player opens his mouth, and inserts foil Masticore.]

“Nom, Nom, Nom. Fuck you, assholes!”

I don’t understand it either, but roll with me.

You have certain people who are “cuspers” in the nerd community. They like watching Big Bang Theory, or programming Pop Tart calendars (so they never eat the same flavor in the same week) but they have no fucking clue what Magic: the Gathering is.

Sometimes you’ll be doing something like rolling a character for your new D&D campaign and one of these Cuspers will look at you and say “Why the fuck do you have so many dice?” You’ll want to explain, but you run into a problem. It would take forever, they’d get bored, and they’d still be confused. I call this a lose-loser situation (of course, you get to be the loser).

If they really want to know something, teach them. I’m not saying be an asshole! But for the love of Gygax if they say “Hur, what is Magic the Gathering?” don’t start explaining The Stack. For example, this website includes an explanation of The Stack, a flash demonstration and an additional FAQ page, just to tell y0u how this one mechanic of M:tG works. You seriously want to start that with someone who doesn’t know the difference between a lifetotal die and an elf counter?

So I go to PAX East, which is like a constant nerdgasm. I get back and can’t wait to talk about every stupid thing that happened while I was there. I even wore the sweet USB bracelet I got from Wizards of the Coast with their new demo on it. Even though I haven’t played Magic in forever (my cards are in boxes) it reminded me of how addicted to that shit I was. I think once and addict, always an addict. But instead of pulling humongous boxes out of my closet, I download the Xbox Live Arcade version of M:tG (because HOLY CRAP why didn’t I already own it?!!).  I’m swearing at imaginary players and talking shit about their imaginary moms (offline play), when Cusper asks me The Question.

Cusper: [noticing gratuitous swearing] “WTF are you playing?”

Me: “Magic: the Gathering.”

Cusper: “How do you play that?”

It’s moments like this that make me want to pull decks and teach. But Cusper doesn’t really want me to teach him. In fact, I don’t think he wants me to really answer him.  So I’m all: “It’s like Yu-Gi-Oh! only for adults.”

I get the blank stare. Then I go for it: “I’m swearing because I’m unable to take out the dumb shit in this deck for the awesome shit I’m unlocking, and now this stupid burn deck is raping my grandmother. If this were real M:tG I’d have a sweet deck and fuck this burn deck up its ass with a plastic fork.”

I’m just digging the hole deeper and I know it. So then I just say “I’m a Planeswalker. It’s like being a God. That stuff is MY land. It obeys me. And I kill the other player with magical spells and creatures because I’m an asshole.”

This explanation seemed good enough for Cusper.