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It must have been agonizing coming to work and taking the mound every five days as the notable ace on a formidable roster in Houston and realizing misery reducing the reliance and excitement. They are a perfect landing spot for the disgruntled Roy Oswalt, a veteran right-hander who needed a change of scenery and a chance to contend for a championship.

It was bound to happen as the non-waiver trade deadline loomed ever so closer, but the Philadelphia Phillies weren’t the frontrunners in grabbing a stud pitcher to strengthen a depleted and wobbly rotation. It’s a town that can use a pitching tandem to solidify the starting rotation and take pressure off Roy Halladay, a dominant strikeout specialist who easily can reach a historic milestone and shatter the 3,000 strikeout plateau.

At the moment, the Phillies benefits at the trade deadline, acquiring the necessary and impressive prize in retooling an essential department during a tight, tense pennant race. And as we all know now, Phillies fans are thrilled and fortunate to witness the shrewd skills of Philies general manager Ruben Amaro, Jr., who has a knack for stealing the biggest prizes on the market.

The brand of the Phillies is remodeling in the midsummer, a time when rumors run rampant, but it’s also a time Amaro when revitalizes the pitching department. His blockbuster trades have become a habit each summer. He brought in Cliff Lee a year ago but later foolishly traded the former Cy Young winner to Seattle.

And months later, the Phillies were gusty buyers after landing Roy Halladay in the Cliff Lee-to-Seattle exchange. Amaro, Jr., has proven to be the smartest executive in a draining, complex business in positioning the Phillies as the favorite for a third straight World Series appearance in October.

Land an elite thrower and he’s referred as Mr. October, nothing more than an executive erecting prosperity to enrich the Phillies’ capacity and amass postseason supremacy. In the past year, no team has had much success as the Phillies. In the past year, no team has pulled off the inconceivable moves like the Phillies.

All the busy days were a boon, when the Phillies were aggressive and intrigued an unhappy pitcher after he pleaded for a new home with postseason implications. He carefully weighed options and waived his no-trade clause Thursday to be dealt for left-handed starter J.A. Happ and two prospects, outfielder Anthony Gose and shortstop Jonathan Villar.

“I’m glad it worked out for both of us. I wanted to go to a contender, and Houston gets some good prospects in return who will hopefully allow them to build a winning team,” Oswalt said. “The hardest part about it is cleaning out my locker. I’ve been in the same place for 10 years and having to say goodbye and clean out the locker is the toughest part.”

The acquisition of Oswalt gives the Phillies an additional ace arm needed for a successful chase for the pennant.

“We’re trying to do what we can to get back to the World Series and win it,” Amaro said whose usual trend as general manager is reforming a much-improved club into World Series champs.      

“He’s pretty excited about coming here,” Amaro said.

In the end, apparently, the Phillies benefit in a convenient deal, collecting sizable cash and a three-time All-Star who has a 143-82 record in nearly 10 seasons with Houston, where he arrived after being selected in the 23rd round of the 1996 amateur draft.

“I’m at a point in my career where I just want a chance to get back to the World Series like I did in ’05 with Houston,” he told ESPN.com. “I’m excited to be going to Philly. I love watching Roy Halladay pitch, and I think with him and (Cole) Hamels, the three of us can feed off each other.”

By trading for Oswalt, the Phillies, who currently trail the Atlanta Braves by 3.5 games, instantly rise into contention and can easily make an appearance at its third consecutive World Series.

If the Phillies revitalize and return to championship form with good health and consistency, they could very well be a tough out in the postseason. But right now, the Phillies are anything but cohesive and healthy. They’re missing second baseman Chase Utley and outfielder Shane Victorino, two essential ingredients necessary for their postseason run.

In Halladay, Oswalt, and Hamels, the Phillies now have arguably the best 1-2-3 pitching combo in baseball. That means the expectations are higher than ever, and now they hope to reclaim sole possession of first place in the NL East. Come on, it seems logical. When a team has an intimidating pitching staff, especially when there are two strikeout experts, that team—in this case, the Phillies—should be favored. Baseball is a game built around sturdy pitching staffs and durable bullpens.

Haven’t you noticed five pitchers have thrown no-hitters this season, including the hard-throwing Halladay? Of course, he’s now relieved with the reinforcement of Hamels and Oswalt. It’s almost surprising but amazing how Amaro has built a winning franchise.

The Phillies get to experience the excitement and jubilation of postseason success almost every fall because of management’s desire and hunger to make the necessary moves to stay in the pennant race. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be, a team willing to win year after year after year?

In Philly, a franchise residing in the community is suddenly becoming buyers and taking notice of the Yankees traits in purchasing a primary slugger or pitcher at the deadline. That’s exactly how the Phillies are conducting themselves—as a high-marketed franchise with a dauntless psyche in dealing unheard-of prospects for ultimate players to win. In other words, the Phillies have grabbed brilliant ideas from the Yankees.

It’s just a thought.

It’s entirely a no-brainer that the Philly is on an earnest pursuit. Still, a significant portion of players are signed to long-term deals, at least through 2011. Maybe that explains why Ryan Howard was given a contract extension, but rather surprisingly, his teammate and longtime shortstop Jimmy Rollins never was offered an extension. Oh, trust me he’ll be given an eventual extension.

By committing a silly blunder for dealing Lee, Amaro learned to appreciate the value and players’ contributions within the franchise. It’s unlikely that he’ll ever make such a clumsy mistake, one that had the Phillies fans gagging each time they’d bite into a Philly cheesesteak sandwich. But really soon, the fans will be enjoying those cheesesteaks while watching three top-tier pitchers dissect the strike zone.

Mark my words.

The Phillies can win it all this year, I wouldn’t doubt it.

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On this heartwarming day, as the raindrops fell softly before a beautiful rainbow glowed overhead at the baseball town known as Cooperstown, maybe it was the endearing, informal speech or maybe it was his posture when he took the podium humbled, hearing his name enshrined into the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

There were times, of course, when Andre Dawson wasn’t expected of being acknowledged as a Hall of Famer, omitted by many populace devoted to the game of baseball. It’s a rhetorical understanding that he was always disregarded and had to wait nine elections anxiously for a hallowed moment, a chance to feel the intense gratification of having his name engraved at Cooperstown.

In his playing days, he was an endearing star and stood as an admired icon because of his singular exploits and humility as the finest slugger with the then-Montreal Expos during an accomplished era. In a sense, it worked in his favor, becoming merely the 203^rd player in the game’s history inducted into the Hall.

“Thank you for welcoming this rookie to your team” said Dawson, who wore a Montreal uniform for 10 seasons before joining the Chicago Cubs as a free agent. “It’s an honor beyond words. I didn’t play this game with this goal in mind, but I’m living proof that if you love this game, the game will love you back. I am proof that any young person who can hear my voice right now can be standing here as I am.”

The words of inspiration alone, tells us he was worthy of an incredible award. So each year, the Baseball Writers Association ignored the purity and qualifications of Dawson, especially when it’s a game obsessed with numbers and milestones, a trait and symbolic feature recognized all over the baseball society. However, it was a different notion for the man who appeared in the All Star Game eight times, with 438 homers, 2,774 hits, 1,591 RBIs and 314 stolen bases in a remarkable, all while serving a 20-year tenure.              

Likewise, he acknowledged that the writers have the leverage in votes.

“You don’t hear any negativity about people in the Hall of Fame,” Dawson said. “How voting goes remains to be seen. You (writers) have always been the experts.”

What man gives credit to the writers? Not many players offers appreciation to writers, but more than anything, are critical of a writer’s stance and demeanor. When he arrived as a rookie in 1977, the hippie era including a phase most wore stylish afros, he was marked as a pseudo in the game and left us suspicious whether he was evidently a juicer at threshold of the Steroid Era.

Things have begun to elicit much questioning and skepticism in the caveat of the “dark side,” warning players about the latent repercussions of the usage of performance enhancing drugs. To this day, he does garner a sense that the game is on the brink of self-destruction and believes the infected era is slowly receding.

“There’s nothing wrong with the game of baseball,” said Dawson. “Baseball will, from time to time like anything else in life, fall victim to the mistakes that people make. It’s not pleasant and it’s not right. Individuals have chosen the wrong road, and they’re choosing that as their legacy. Those mistakes have hurt the game and taken a toll on all of us.

“Others still have a chance to choose theirs. Do not be lured to the dark side. “It’s a stain on the game, a stain gradually being removed.”

He slowly sauntered to the podium and microphone, maintaining open forum and absorbed the audience attention during his length speech, a touching moment that showed the classiness and humbleness of a deeply honored outfielder in his time. But unfortunately, Dawson’s numbers were trivial by the seductive home run surge of Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmerio and Sammy Sosa with the juiced era spoiling it for the innocent and spotless players.

For the first time since exiting the game, he was given an opportunity to be honored as a worthy player of the Hall and diluted an ascending legacy, a moment in his lifetime he was able to cherish as the Cubs and Expos fans roared and applauded a well-deserved athlete. On a pleasant afternoon, he was eulogized and cheered loudly by fans, accompanied by former manager Whitey Herzog, umpire Doug Harvey, broadcaster Jon Miller and sportswriter Bill Madden, who all shared the moment and were inducted into the Hall.

In what was a touching tribute, his mellifluous public speaking went a long ways, comprising of strong messages. In what was a sentimental ceremony, his eloquent words may have enlightened us. The cadence of his heartfelt, genuine speech was simply impressive, delivering a 15 to 20 minute acceptance message. With ailing knees, he stood tall and reflected on a painful career in which he endured 12 knee surgeries to mark a remarkable career.

“The initial impact was early as a result of high school football injury,” Dawson said. “The wear and tear over those 11 years, favoring that one particular knee, caused me to wear out the other knee. As it turned, I think I had eight surgeries by the time I was out of Montreal. I got to the point where I was more or less bone on bone.”

It’s never easy playing on a badly damaged knee that nearly forced Dawson to retire prematurely after his fourth season in the big leagues with the Expos before he returned to somehow write an extraordinary chapter and lasted 21 seasons in the majors. There were times, particularly following games, when he spent ample hours bathing and soaking his troubled knees, finding ways to heal career-threatening injuries.

And if there was one player who endured severe injuries, Dawson was a tough-minded outfielder with eight Gold Gloves, Most Valuable Player and Rookie of the Year awards. Anytime a player has become one of only three players in major-league history to finish with at least 400 home runs and 300 stolen bases, he’s worthy of the Hall of Fame. Lastly, he’s in the company of Barry Bonds and Willie Mays to reach such a plateau.

As for the worthy ones elected in the class of 2010, John Fogerty told the Hall of Famers. “You guys belong up here.”

Dawson certainly did.    

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ANAHEIM–The words are indescribable of the somber news that stunned all of baseball, unfortunately stealing the spotlight on the day of the All-Star Game. As the most sentimental death ceased the excitement, we lost arguably the craftiest businessman in sports, the savvy owner of the famous New York Yankees.

We lost George Steinbrenner, a controversial chairman with a yearly ritual, demanding legitimacy and delivery from the well-paid players he blessed with enormous profit. The trials of the Boss have initiated much controversy during the longest tenure of any owner in the majors.

Much as he was adored for his charitable work, loyalty among players, and pampering of his players, he was inevitably disliked for his controversial tension and verbal disputes with managers and players.

Ever since he bought the Yankees, he was always in the headlines for indifference, capitalism, or squandering mega dollars to revamp a lowly franchise. If he attained anything less than a World Series title, it was considered a failure as Steinbrenner wasn’t satisfied with early postseason exits or unsuccessful losses.

Those who had a bonding relationship with the Boss would tell you that he was compassionate and impassioned of piling world titles to reach the unprecedented by embodying the tenor of a fervent sporting atmosphere.

Over the course of his regime, he built an empire and inherited billions, representing the sports in a fanatic state that admires baseball and traditional pinstripes.

But the story of baseball wasn’t the Midsummer Classic on the morning the baseball family lost a future Hall of Famer and an insightful merchant who died less than two weeks after his 80th birthday on July 4.

He sadly died of a massive heart attack and suffered in falling health for years, awarding the personnel decisions to his two sons, Hank and Hal, two years ago.

With declining health, he barely traveled with the team and appeared in the press box at Yankee Stadium, including the recent palace the organization spent billions in creations.

In judging his habits, he frequently caused discussion and havoc in the back-page headlines of raging feuds with Billy Martin, who was fired five times after he failed to adhere to guidelines and demands.

Although he greatly became a mentor and father-figure, he was a baseball capitalist by dauntlessly investing in millions, the most adventurous and creator of gambling to construct the most powerful baseball franchise of all-time.

All of his creativity and passion played a key role in the Yankees’ triumphant prosperity, delivering 27 titles, 40 American League pennants, and more championships than any other franchise in North American professional sports history.

But he grabbed headlines for commonly hiring and firing managers, a bombastic pattern that cast misery on his managerial staff and players who had face-to-face feuds, losing respect for the man described as the Boss.

However, of course, Steinbrenner’s character epitomized a fiery competitor who expected to win a pennant each season after investing in talented names.

Because he was the greatest owner in the history of baseball, if not in sports, he was simply endeared for his warmhearted selflessness, even though he was a polarizing and wicked businessman. So what if he called a Japanese pitcher “a fat toad” or changed managers 21 times? He’s the tremendous winner, largely the reason the Yankees have excelled.

He was truly admired outside the clubhouse, but behind closed doors, he was described as an evil boss and scolded his players whenever they performed poorly.

His famous quote described him. “Winning is the most important thing in my life, after breathing,” he said roughly.

“It’s tough, because he’s more than just an owner to me—he’s a friend of mine,” Yankees captain Derek Jeter said emotionally during pregame interviews before the All-Star Game. “He will be deeply missed.”

Certainly!

Think of the hilarious moments. Remember, he featured on Seinfeld and ordered George Costanza to deliver him calzones, still demanding much as the superior one, the most hated owner in sports history?

Either you loved or loathed him. He never allowed the Yankees tradition to diminish or topple, expanding the hallmark of pinstripes by launching a cable television channel—Yes Network —nine years ago.

As he marketed and produced a large payroll, he offered millions to form the unprecedented like no other, attracting a fervid crowd of Yankees devotees to embrace future Hall of Famers Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera. Between his players and balance for constantly renovating an unfinished franchise, he inflated a share of revenue in the stands and television ratings.

“His toughness came out in his expectations. I think his expectations carried over into the clubhouse, and we had the same expectations as he did, which I think is the sign of his influence on all of us,” said Yankees manager Joe Girardi. “I do think winning the World Series meant a lot to him, but the next day, he was always back to work. He was like, OK, how are we going to win next year?

“He enjoyed it, but he stayed the course all the time. We won in 1996, and we were told he was already planning for 1997 when they were planning the parade. He probably felt that it was a huge accomplishment, but he never rested in it.”

Although Larry Lucchino, an owner of the archenemies Boston Red Sox, called the Yankees “the evil empire,” Steinbrenner offered second chances to problematic Dwight Gooden, who had a history of troubles, and gave chances to a corrupted Darryl Strawberry, who ran into unlawful troubles.

And with the highest payroll in baseball at $205 million, the Yanks can possibly win back-to-back, leaving behind a well-conditioned franchise that returned to prominence last season when the Yanks won the fall classic by investing in three premier stars and grabbed CC Sabathia, Mark Teixeira, and A.J. Burnett.

With all the criticism swirling around the Yankees, it was noticed that the Yankees spend $1.5 billion in stadium creations. Since he purchased the team, the Boss always got what he wanted—until he died at 80 Tuesday morning, remembered for his bravery and gusty moves, for his helpfulness within the communities and willingness to spend dauntlessly on star players.

Back in 1977, he brought the Yankees for a price worth $8.8 million and valued the trademark.

“The thing with the Boss, he’s an old football coach,” said Jeter. “So his way, he sort of looked at the baseball season like we played 12 games and had to win every single day. He really expected to win every night, every day. I remember my first, second year. I was on third base and got doubled off on a line drive in the infield. We won, but after the game, he was yelling at me…He expected perfection.”

That’s why the Yanks have the most titles and are on the verge of another one, possibly.

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ANAHEIM–Every time he walked near the dugout finishing his home run round on the nice, breezy summer night at Angel Stadium, the crowds were as wild and terrifying as the craziest attractions at Disneyland.

Parts of the site cheered as others booed David Ortiz, the once-sleazy and deceitful slugger who addressed at length during a press conference his bewilderment of how he tested positive during the league’s 2003 drug testing survey. In truth, given the massive homers that sailed over the walls in Southern California, he’s now steroid-free and authentic in every at-bat by lofting surging shots out of the ballpark with the Steroid Era gradually fading.

All I know is he’s ultimately a charismatic and adorable superstar in Boston, wildly cheered in front of a desirous crowd that sells out at the cozy and traditional confines of Fenway Park, the oldest ballpark currently active. However, much of last season he was a fallen star, disdained when caught for dragging down purity and deceiving the game using performance-enhancing drugs.

Few, if any, trusted the fraudulent so-called Big Papi, though supportive fans at home applauded Ortiz as if he hadn’t committed a shameful crime. But as of recently, he’s no longer the careless saboteur that sadly stained Boston’s World Series pennants, he’s no longer the criminal of baseball, and he’s no longer accused for tainting the Red Sox triumphant moments.

In the beginning of his revelations, he was disliked and ripped heavily for buying supplements and vitamins over the counter, smudging his reputation and spotless batting averages that vastly declined when the accusations developed. Maybe he wasn’t the Big Papi we were familiar with months ago. Maybe he was Big Slumpi, right?

Back then, we saw a disillusioned slugger gripe frequently at the press for criticizing his inefficient batting average and lowly performance. Back then, we saw the bitterness of a poisonous designated hitter with limiting struggles, after he finished the month of April with a .143 batting average, .238 on-base percentage, and only one homer and four RBIs. If you ever wondered about the implications of his languishing capacities, he was propagated as a stigma in baseball.

This is a game of momentum and parity, a game that requires much patience and self-discipline during at-bats. The biggest story in baseball is obviously the sudden improvement and reproduction of Ortiz, who had the befitting mechanics in the annual All-Star Home Run Derby Monday night. He blasted 11 homers in the final round for a total of 32 in the festivities.

In the end, he pulled off a vital comeback with a 13-homer second round to ultimately defeat runner-up Hanley Ramirez of the Florida Marlins. It all started with Milwaukee’s Corey Hart, whose blazing long ball soared over the left-center field wall as he compiled 13 homers in the early rounds to lead all participants.

But usually, if you haven’t noticed, participants lose mechanics, a groove, and hits lacking power following the Derby. All this could obviously lift the assurance of Ortiz, and then, he could uplift the Red Sox to potentially a surge in the second-half of the regular season as they aggressively chase for the pennant.

With all the hyperbolic tension, he has acted like a prima donna, he has cried like a baby for his porous swinging, and he has struck out more than any other batter to hear all the ridiculing and criticism. The outrage easily led Big Papi to believe that fans had personally betrayed and scorned him, devastated by his fraud and phoniness. Here we are a year later, and he’s once again an admirable slugger in the game, forgetting about the erratic or pseudo home runs and clutch shots in the late innings.

Maybe he was a sham no one trusted and lost all credibility while remaining vague about his substance use, but he represented the Red Sox by capping the honors in the Derby and possibly increased the chances of starting the second half on a hitting streak. Maybe he was the biggest disappointment in the game, but he was the biggest star in the All-Star event and remorseful of his diabolical sins.

This time, he validates all the intangibles it takes to polish as a productive hitter at nearly every at-bat and has amassed hits in a resurrection. In contrast, he once ranked 45th among AL players in OPS, but he now currently stands at sixth and has been a factor in Boston’s overall progress. Most obviously, the Red Sox have greatly outplayed their most hated rivals, the Yankees.

That is, of course, when Big Papi has competent appearances at the plate. And rightfully, he lofted the trophy featuring two crossed bats, dedicating a wondrous moment to former Major League pitcher Jose Lima, a Dominican Republic native who died when paramedics discovered him in cardiac arrest at his Southern California home in May.

“This is my fourth time, so I’m just kind of used to the experience,” Ortiz said. “I wanted to come here and make sure the fans enjoy what we do.”

“I’ve been dealing with so many things the past few years,” Ortiz said. “Coming back here (to another All-Star game), I want to thank the players for giving me the opportunity to be here. This is a job that we have, but it’s called a game. That’s what I try to do during the season—have fun with my teammates and make sure everything goes the right way.”

There’s no need for us to feel disappointed or bitter of Big Papi. The fallacies unquestionably were unexpected from a player who once said that he was tired of a sport sullied by performance-enhancers and had a solution for more severe punishment. He clearly believed that all players in the majors should have been tested three or four times a year, and banned for testing positive of substances.

Unfortunately, he was one of those wicked drug users, but he was also one of those beloved and premier sluggers in the game. With the horrible beginning to the regular season, Red Sox manager Terry Francona had options of juggling his batting lineup and benching Ortiz against lefties or even summoning him to pinch hit in late-inning situations.

For a short moment, he had continued his struggles by hitting three-for-33 in June. In other words, he was worse than a Little Leaguer and swung desperately at anything thrown in the strike zone. But then, he batted .480 with seven extra-base hits and 10 RBIs in a seven-game stint to finish off the dreadful start. And he’s currently seeing the ball superbly. It was convincing evidence in the slugfest. You saw it with your own two eyes.

Once again, he’s the most dangerous designated hitter in the American League.

If I were you, I’d encourage your team to walk him.

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A day doesn’t pass without a society raving about what sort of flowers Martha Stewart planted in her garden, what the future holds for the outrageous and craziness of Lindsay Lohan, or whether it’s relevant to elect baseball’s top phenom to start in the All-Star Game.

It’s another debate, I suppose, an endless fuss revolving around Stephen Strasburg, 21, the gifted right-hander who has a lethal fastball, a nasty slurve, a mean curveball and a hitless changeup.

It feels like baseball is amid a resuscitating stage, the one moment we never imagined in the wicked era of baseball, an age known as the Steroid Era.

This is the beginning of a renaissance, putting aside all the deceptiveness and torment that stained credibility with all the malign and insults, slowly ruining the purity of a commendable sport.

As the midsummer classic approaches, we are accustomed to Strasburg’s imposing debut when he almost completed the perfecto by finishing with no walks and 14 strikeouts at Nationals Park, the spacious creation that opened last season.

His presence alone sells out a crowd, watching for the improbable, gazing at his spectacular performances, and cheering on a triumphant mound appearance, to brace the future and savior of the Washington Nationals.

All this hype has evoked a sense of flirtation in baseball, impelling conversations near the water cooler within the workplaces and jacking up television ratings instantly for the 100-mph fastball that Strasburg throws effectively, able to influence viewers with his unbelievable flame throwers.

And if he continues to throw charmingly from the mound, he could someday run for president, be elected in office, and reside on Pennsylvania Avenue at the White House, a luxurious estate in the town of the nation’s capital.

He essentially darkens the facades that veiled the priorities of baseball, during a decade when drug emporiums tainted clubhouses and when Bud Selig, an irresponsible commissioner, was apathetic in asserting a performance-enhancing drug raid.

But it’s a fair assessment for the good people to elect Strasburg into the All-Star Game, a unique commodity that seems rare in sports. In addition, he has earned the credit to be worshipped as a premier pitcher of the league, currently with a 2.27 ERA and 48 strikeouts in five starts.

More importantly, he should be named as the starter in the midsummer classic, an exhibition for the fans that features the greatest and popular players in the game.

If this is a game for the fans, upon seeing well-deserving stars snubbed and disrespected by the fans selections, its only rationale that he should be participating in the upcoming festivities.

And if he isn’t voted in, it’s a travesty that will change how we judge the disorganized sport, bothered with ruthless calamity and empty seating in the majority of ballparks.

It is, at last, revising as a family event and an afternoon outing at the ballpark when the average family is willing to enjoy a three-hour game, despite all the deceit and controversy that positioned the facet of the league.

But in the name of Strasburg, there’s a concept that baseball is on the verge of making progress and visualizing aspiration in the growth and emergence of the sensational Strasburg.

This development is gratifying exposure as he has ballooned as the main attraction, putting all the ills to rest and restoring positivity among an attenuated sport. He was unbelievable in the minor leagues, and pitched in a historic major-league debut, releasing evidence that he really belongs in the midsummer festivities.

In a way, he’s the best young prospect we’ve seen in a long time and his popularity has skyrocketed since lifting the atmosphere within a helpless franchise.

All we care about is witnessing the best athletes polish in the game fans cast their votes, waiting for their favorite stars to dazzle at a moment the fans are watching closely after selecting well-suited players. If this is a game to appease the fans, on a night when all the top-tier sluggers and pitchers represents their franchises and features at the same ballpark, then shouldn’t the fans implore that the majors add Strasburg to the list of all-stars?

It’s fair, not to mention that he’s the hottest prospect in the game, that he’s worthy of starting in the midsummer meeting during the All-Star break, a moment the prize-winning players are represented.

Although it’s believed that he had an excellent first-half of the season and have became the focus of attention, drawing all the viewers across the country, he’s been ignored because he is still considered unproven after he merely pitched for the first-half of the season with no postseason experience.

This is a modern time when none of it matters, as a legion of pitchers and sluggers have appeared in the All-Star game without having any postseason experience. Whatever you find it unanimous or not, it’s a no-brainer that he’s fittingly worthy of starting in the much-publicity setting, even though he pitched in the big leagues for less than a month.

But I’d like to speculate that it will invoke a controversy and would be considered an insult to the participants. If nothing else, he merits a spot on the NL roster with the big-name stars, proving to be a prolific name in the first-half.

It’s very telling that he’s the most inspiring recipe in the majors, shifting the texture of a sport upstaged by football and basketball, and appeases the population with his artful mechanics that has been a resource in consolidating reliance and trustworthiness.

There’s a written rule stating that every team must have a player representing their franchise which means Ryan Zimmerman, who is having an outstanding season and the frontrunner for the Nationals by hitting a mere .290 with 13 homers and 37 RBIs, shouldn’t be the top choice as fans and voters must turn the favor to Strasburg.

In the yesteryears, the majors have tried to resuscitate the relevancy of the midsummer classic, but it’s a game weakened and ignored each summer, despite adding implications to the event and made it meaningful unlike before when it was viewed as a pointless showpiece.

But if Strasburg’s name is suddenly announced as a starter and participant, he could make an immediate impact on the event and be a remedy in baseball.

He may provide the importance and excitement, but he’s on pace to appear in at least 10 All-Star Games in the future, if he isn’t entitled to a bid. By all accounts, given that he hasn’t pitched an entire first-half, he’s not being anointed as much as Ubaldo Jimenez and David Price, a pair of skillful stars with monstrous numbers and proven attributes.

But either way, a national audience desires witnessing the hottest and best athlete at the time or a young prospect, and that happens to be Strasburg.

As we debate whether he belongs in the game, I’d say he gets my vote. 

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The reality of the Dodgers purchasing space on nearly 300 billboards around the Los Angeles basin before the beginning of the season advertising a renewed rivalry in baseball, one known as the East vs. West rivalry dating back to the purist era of baseball, was for relieving traditionally the most dramatic rivalry in America’s pastime.

A legion of old timers, such as the elderly folks, still can recall 11 World Series meetings involving the Los Angeles Dodgers and the New York Yankees, each with a combined 33 titles and endless postseason drama. Back then, of course, the series were masterful performances as Hollywood vs. Broadway compelled a glamorous and a seductive landscape in sports.

While the Dodgers and the Yankees meet in the newborn era of the famous clash from the old-school days, a rational supposition is that the Los Angeles billboards earlier in the season were mistakenly written incorrectly. The slogan pronounced “Rivalry Renewed,” but would have been easier to decipher if the signs had stated “Torre vs. A-Rod in a Heated Feud.”

It was known all along that this was the most appealing interleague meeting this season, a dream competition the world desired to see deeply in the fall classic last season. But it’s not charming because of the wonderful memories or everlasting drama—perhaps the most drama involves Dodgers manager Joe Torre and Yankees third baseman Alex Rodriguez.

With all the Dodgers drama, as the payroll has massively decreased due to a messy feud and divorce between owner Frank and Jamie McCourt, the obsolete trauma isn’t disappearing anytime soon. The inconvenience dents a renowned franchise with troubles centering the fraudulent and sleazy Manny Ramirez that has become a disruption within a franchise once respected for incredibly winning the World Series in 1988.

Lately, the talk of the town evokes further disruptions, at least it has this weekend when Rodriguez came along with the Yankees for a three-game series in Los Angeles. It’s impossible for the Dodgers to downplay and keep the truth hidden.

The Dodgers welcomed the Yankees for an emotional reunion at Dodgers Stadium, when Torre reunited and reminisced with his former players without shaking hands and exchanging modest words with Rodriguez, which inflamed a ruckus more enormous than McCourt’s long-suffering divorce.

As he tries protecting his unstable credibility after he paid a staggering $19 million in court fees, Torre tries to avoid reporters as he expects to hear answers about his broken bond with Rodriguez. For the first time, there’s a sense that an irreparable relationship between Torre and Rodriguez is fixed, that their issues and disputes are behind them, finally in position to show remorse and move on.

If so, it’s a remedy for what had transpired in the past, ever since Torre was offered an ultimatum by general manager Brian Cashman and Hank Steinbrenner, who is notoriously known for threatening managers and mismanaging employees’ status. Just so you know The Boss fired Billy Martin five times.

He is the most respected and beloved skipper who now sits in the Dodgers dugouts, summoning relievers and deciding the starting rotation. From New York to California, he migrated to the Hollywood stage when he was targeted by the Dodgers general manager Ned Coletti, who hurried and hired the brilliant Torre to fill the managerial vacancy in Los Angeles.

He quickly adapted to the sunny and clear skies of Los Angeles, soaking in his refreshing restart near the beaches, a scenery which he avoided headaches and stress. Having been pressured to reach certain standards and an agenda, he was the most polarizing baseball manager in New York and had to work under a dictating and stubborn-minded Steinbrenner family.

No one questions the Yankees agenda in attempting to win a World Series every year, but we were curious to know why exactly Torre was fired after 12 seasons, leading the Yanks to 12 postseason appearances and won six pennants and four World Series. Meanwhile, he and Rodriguez ended a pity feud by resolving the messy turmoil Sunday evening in Los Angeles.

If someone had admitted before the season that A-Rod and Torre wouldn’t reconcile, we wouldn’t had witnessed Rodriguez encounter Torre near the batting cage before Sunday’s game. When the Yankees took the field and were in the middle of pregame workouts, they hugged, talked briefly and shook hands.

He clearly was amiable during the conversation. He hung on to Rodriguez’s hand. And his former third baseman smiled. First time since the ugly separation, both realized how insane and babyish it was holding grudges and having ill-humored outlooks.

Seven home runs away from 600, he amended his problems with his former manger Torre, who’ll turn 70 three weeks from now, putting the spiteful book to rest, “The Yankee Years,” a detailed narrative that revealed the true colors of Rodriguez. A few years ago, he was arrogantly seen at parties and was irresponsible, barely performing at a consistent level.

Instead, he underachieved and faltered in the postseason by finishing hitless and useless, but earned an enormous paycheck from the highest market with the richest payroll. That prompted Torre to lash out in his book a year ago, when he boldly stated that A-Rod was identified as “A-Fraud” in the Yankees’ clubhouse and had an envious persona of the well-known, beloved face of the Yanks Derek Jeter. It wasn’t pretty after departing from the Yankees to start a livelihood at Chavez Ravine, but at least now it feels as if there are no harsh feelings.

“He came over and he was who he always is,” Torre said to reporters. “It was never uncomfortable with Alex. I just told him again, I said, ‘I hope you got my message about sort of getting that monkey off of your back.’

“He’s a good kid. He’s a good kid and, to me, I think too much is always made of this stuff. I think we know in our hearts what goes on.”

For the entire weekend, it was very eccentric when he exchanged hugs, handshakes and friendly words with Jeter, Jorge Posada and Mariano Rivera, future Hall of Famers who played under Torre during his 12-year tenure and were accustomed to his presence.

Every player with long tenures who are still wearing pinstripes misses Torre, but understands that baseball is a business as the Yankees normally make offseason moves to overhaul a rotation and batting order and minimize failures, erecting around big-name players by pampering them with a huge salary.

The good news is that Torre and A-Rod found a remedy for all their issues. But the bad news is that the Dodgers blew a four-run lead in the ninth as the Yankees surged for the shocking 8-6 win in a mind-blowing comeback.  

More importantly, Torre and A-Rod put the rift behind them.

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When an umpire blows a call to stifle Detroit’s Armando Galarraga and the 21st perfect game in major league history, hijacking and wrecking much of an impeccable mark in sports, then we assume that a fraudulent sport may be rigged or even the worst call in Major League Baseball history.

Upon glancing at instant replay, veteran umpire Jim Joyce blundered a call when he ruled Cleveland’s Jason Donald safe with two out in the ninth inning of a near-perfect conclusion.

There’s no reason to argue that it was one of the worst calls ever, an error on an umpire who rarely botches a decisive play at first base.

The best way to describe an erroneous misunderstanding is that Joyce was confounded and certainly hadn’t noticed a mistaken call that would have been overturned if the majors extended and enforced instant replay.

It’s certainly a modernized and a refined game, unlike 20 years ago when the development of technology was limited, including DVR or review booths.

But now, a foolish and heavy discussion is heard quite often in the majors, regarding gaffes that ruin integrity and pride within a sport once known as a well-respected event.

It’s clear that baseball is stuck in usual turmoil, on the brink of destruction, whether it relates to asinine walk-off celebrations, performance-enhancers, or poor calls.

These days, we point our fingers at commissioner Bud Selig, the unsettled man in charge of the shame that has ruptured the reputation of baseball.

He hasn’t been a strict enforcer or advocate in declaring instant replay, and refused to institute it for debatable home run shots that normally resulted in disputable evidence.

He’s the biggest embarrassment in sports, failing to take pride and stricter measures in an unhinged league, and allows players so much latitude.

And what has happened over the years is that players’ insidious nature tricked and deceived Selig, a man in denial of imposing stricter boundaries for shams and con artists who are disloyal and violate the drug policy by using performing-enhancing drugs to improve their performance level.

If he has yet to declare reliable drug testing, then what makes you think he’ll demand instant reviews of a mistaken call?

Indeed, it was costly and humiliatingly, an awful call Wednesday night, perhaps a bad one we’ll never forget as Galarraga was on pace for recording perfection.

The problem hatching in baseball remains whether the calls are accurate or inaccurate, but the only way to determine the proper outcome is by remodeling tradition a bit and expanding the use of instant replay.

This lingering issue is beyond simplicity, but outrageous in such a way that baseball refuses to employ technology. It’s surprising that he had sense enough to insist he’d deliberate on expanding instant replay to eliminate blown calls.

It’s never too late to contemplate on rectifying a continuing crisis, but eventually he must awaken and snap out of his absent-minded habits to virtually avoid misunderstood ruling that can change the dynamics of a game.

He should be aware that umpires aren’t perfect in getting the calls correct, and if the game happens to be on the line, it may cost a club a much-needed win.

The human errors rationalize that Joyce has a tougher task, making sure calls are perfect as possible to grasp a consensus proposal as to which player is treated fairly and earns a moderate call.

If baseball utilizes replay more regularly, the average no-call would be corrected as most would be reversed and ruled out, while others would indicate that he outran the late throw, advancing to first base safely without needing to guess whether he made it safely or fell short of beating the out.

Maybe this is something Selig could consider to lessen the incompatible observations, mangling the beauty of baseball.

Between the episodes of steroids battering the league and instant replay expansions, the majors have a greater dilemma, currently taking away the gratifying aspects of possible no-hitters, perfect games, or even worst a probable win.

For all the plights, this may either inflict Selig to endorse and adore the availability of review booths and big screen televisions, which provides evidence in subsequently rescinding an implausible call, akin to the horrendous call that Joyce presumed was the right call.

In what was a disastrous judgment, it delayed a historic milestone and stopped Galarraga’s perfect outing on the mound.

He wasn’t sagacious in a regular-season event, but instead was obtuse in realizing he cost Galarraga a chance to engrave a page in the history book, all because a call wasn’t reversed in the expense of his relentless location and command on the mound to secure a 3-0 win.

In contrast, other leagues accept the availability of technology that has taken over the modern age.

But it’s obvious that Mr. Selig is comfortable with constituting his own rules and still lives in the old school days.

In other words, he likes having it his way. If he wanted, he’ll be a suitable CEO in running Burger King, a fast food corporation in which he could have it his way.

If he wishes to reestablish credibility within a battered league or attract a large audience to once again be intrigued to a commonplace sport, then in relation to the other leagues, he needs to insert instant replay and modernize the game.

Long ago, the NFL instituted instant replay after lingering debates caused much hysteria, eventually grasping a clear understanding that human error sabotaged fate as a majority of the calls were ruled as indisputable evidence.

What? That’s similar to what the majors are confronting, doomed of all the unsure and botched errors.

Maybe one day, Selig will wake up and smell the steaming coffee.

But he hasn’t awakened from his long years of rest, still asleep on the job without waking up and realizing the league is affronting a terrible nightmare.

It’s obvious that he needs a wakeup call.

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He reminds us of an endless movie, the grandest baseball script of the season.

It’s stunning to see a pitcher in the age when baseball is contaminated with performance-enhancers and bring much enthralling scenes to a fragile game, horrid of all the steroid scandals and dirty crimes.

Such is difficult to grasp America’s Pastime in an era we live in the Steroid Era, disgusted and burnt out of all the continuous frauds betraying the positive images of integrity.

Because the majors are constantly dispraised for shameful revelations, poisoning the beauty of the game, we have been downplaying the values of baseball and have neglected applauding Ubaldo Jimenez, the one pitcher emblazoned for becoming the majors’ first 10-game winner this season.

The most powerful and strongest pitcher in the game would be U’s the Man, a nickname that was given to Jimenez when he had a flawless outing in April by pitching a perfect game, the first no-hitter in Rockies’ 18-year history.

Within a lifeless sport known for stereotypes and fraudulent depravity, Jimenez, a 26-year old star pitcher has emerged as an ace and becomes the conversation in the majors with his dominance of late on the mound.

It’s unbelievable that he’s the best and hottest pitcher, a savior in a lame sport for his craftiness and creativity in not allowing earned runs, normally finishing an outing hitless and scoreless.

He’s focused on chasing batters early, attacking aggressively and mixing his pitches in the strike zone, fiercely pitching and attacking the zone with vigor and perception, realizing his relentless pitching duel is needed amid a fraudulent era.

Years after the major leagues declined, we never acknowledged a pitching sensation for all the ravaging shams, transforming the way people viewed the game.

But now, it seems the fuss in sports is the growth of the emerging Jimenez, who suddenly has imposed all recognition, erasing any dreadful thoughts of corrupted imagery that has disparaged the features of a distressing sport.

If there wasn’t any regards that he’s the purist thrower, maybe there’s much assumption that he’s the front-runner for the National League Cy Young award.

If there wasn’t any promise after he has thrown 26 consecutive scoreless innings, a franchise record as a starting pitcher, maybe there’s an understanding that he could one day be enshrined in Cooperstown.

He seems like a 10-year veteran, calmed and forced earnestly, roughly symbolizing that the poisoning aspects of the game could be cured.

Once again, Jimenez verified that baseball is still relevant in many ways by popularizing and reducing the ill-awareness, regenerating purity among a competition nudged by an oblivious crisis.

When the buzz engendered over Memorial Day weekend, an event created a conversation involving two primary right-handed pitchers. In what was quickly divulged as a Memorial Day pitching duel, Jimenez was impeccable and unbeatable.

Not until he pitched a complete game four-hitter as the Rockies shut out the San Francisco Giants in a 4-0 matinee at AT&T Park, fantasy owners and the casual fan clearly witnessed the potential Cy Young award winner and the idealistic right-hander, outshining pitching sensation Tim Lincecum at a premium in his domain.

It’s barely approaching June and still there’s plenty of baseball left in the regular-season, but it’s not too early to admit that Jimenez is a journeyman, suddenly turning into a high-profile ace with monstrous numbers.

And since the majors are obsessed with numbers more than wins, Jimenez is 10-1 with a 0.78 ERA.

If he preserves one more win, he would tie the franchise record of 11 wins by the All-Star break. For his foe, Lincecum, his throwing mechanics weren’t anywhere near a reigning Cy Young winner, horribly allowing four runs, three earned in 5 2/3 innings.

It’s incredible how a pitcher can magnetize the perception of an unsteady game, impelling all followers to embrace the gratifying development of a big-name pitcher.

Keen to succeed at the highest level, he’s resilient and durable, normally lasting longer than the average ace, pitching either until the late innings or the entire contest.

What’s fascinating about baseball is that a spectacular display on the mound magnifies one’s curiosity, just as does Jimenez, the 26-year old absorbing all the thrills for his incomparable and overwhelming achievements.

It’s easy to assume that the staggering numbers place Jimenez as the favorable pitcher to be named for the momentous award.

His results speak for itself, such as a no-hitter and a one-hitter, scoreless streaks of 25 and 17 innings, seven earned runs allowed in 71 1/3 innings. Also, it’s not every day you hear a pitcher yielding merely one home run.

Without argument, he’s a prolific starter with impressive landmarks, attaining the most deeds in Colorado. Over the years, high altitude seemed burdensome for many pitchers, but has yet affected the excellence of Jimenez’s powerful arm.

Just recently, Rockies manager Jim Tracy insisted that he’s the greatest pitcher. “He’s the best pitcher in the game,” he said. “He is as quality a human being as you would ever want to be around. He is humble, soft-spoken and accountable. He has all the attributes to be a star in this game for years to come.”

Ahem, I believe he’s already a star?

Apparently, when you are unbeatable, you are a star.

Let’s anoint U’s the Man.

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The illegal immigrants, as we refer to the violators who generated a controversy in Phoenix, one of the urban cities surrounded by the sticky, muggy and humid heat, especially come the summer months, are battered with hypocrisy and woes.

It’s a world filled with prejudice, but at the same time, a native country that illegal immigrants calls home by building a foundation and manufacturing a better living, they tend to settle for minimum wages and dead-end jobs for supporting their families illegally. 

What was a developing community is now the fastest community to bear with a crisis, angering millions of the Hispanic heritage. What we have in the desert is exactly the ugliest boycott, as angry protesters express enmity with the lawmakers and enforcers in Arizona, a state trying to crack down on illegal immigrants.

Recently, petulant fans were obliviously boycotting the Arizona Diamondbacks on the road. Unfair as it may be to ban an entire franchise for someone else’s ignorance, the majority disagrees with the immigration laws and doing just about anything to fight against Arizona’s law approval.

And now it has reached a despairing point when almost all citizens, including senators are recounting the possibility of racial profiling. This has been a disgrace in a state expected to host sporting festivities next summer, but now marked as the state of insensitivity and injustice, along with inequality to possibly spoil Phoenix’s opportunity of having the 2011 All-Star Game.

Although the league scheduled the annual event to take place in Phoenix, Sen. Robert Menendez, D-New Jersey, is among those advising for the Major League Baseball Players Association to boycott the All-Star Game.

It really is getting uglier as time progresses, with Rep. Jose Serrano, D-New York taken a stance as well. He asked the players to boycott and Players Association executive director Michael Weiner opposed the Arizona immigration law. More than ever, the negative aspects of the distasteful laws are disrespectful to the Hispanic background.

It’s nearly 30 percent of foreign-born players and approximately 40 percent are Hispanic in baseball. And to keep the madness on a low, if the game is scheduled to be played, why not relocate in a considerable environment?

Take it to a city that doesn’t mind when foreign players arrive or participate in an event, dictating home-field advantage and a game fans desire after voting in favorable players to earn the nod as a starter or a reserve. But with an incurable and unbearable stage in a sport stuck in uncertainty, the average baseball star revered is Albert Pujols and Alex Rodriguez, two top-notch Hispanic stars in this era of sleazes and drug busts.

To say the least, we are discontent with Arizona Senate Bill 1070, a legislation achievement that allows police in the state to have suspicious ideas.

What’s unfair is that it allows the officer to question anyone suspicious and take illegal immigrants into custody, then transport the violators back to their permissible homeland. In a developing crisis, organizations will send a letter on Tuesday to baseball commissioner Bud Selig, whose apathetic nonsense killed the morals of baseball.

We’re staring at a near-tragedy, from the heinous steroid revelations to the horrendous boycotting, baseball is caught in the middle of a catastrophe, which is why organizations are urging Selig to move the All-Star Game and persuade teams to relocate spring training games scheduled in Arizona and avoid the drama of protests and possible riots.

Much is expected from an ill-demanding commissioner, with no solution to absolve steroid debacles. He had plenty of opportunities to institute a new drug policy and declare stricter drug testing, but instead he’s inept in fixing a league with a dubious conception that baseball isn’t curable.

The problem with a game we once loved is that a bad episode always materializes. Last week, a 17-year old idiot at Citizens Bank Park in Philly ran onto the field and a police officer used a Taser gun to subdue the wacko. But now, destructive headlines are about boycotting for the immigrant issues. It seems one bad result leads to another.

And if anything baseball doesn’t need a devastating saga, but incredible results to increase television ratings and sell tickets to fill up a capacity crowd. Lately, the anonymity in Arizona isn’t amusing, but hysterical and offensive.

This confounded silliness forced the Phoenix Suns to wear “Los Suns” on their jerseys of Game Two against San Antonio in support of the Hispanic background. Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson, the two wise men who represent the African American communities as powerful civil right leaders, have urged Selig to move the festivities.

Good luck winning the bid. He’s a stubborn and inattentive commissioner who is very irresponsible in addressing the contaminated age. All of which has corrupted the facet of the sport, but now is being dragged down by the faulty situation in Arizona.

By all means, it’s racial profiling. The police are looking for illegal immigrants by pulling over someone who has the facial features of illegal immigrants. Quite often in baseball, half of those features are seen on a club’s roster. Over the years, Arizona has had serious crimes, mostly relating to drugs and violence. Unfortunately, those bad apples spoiled it for every citizen and baseball players with Hispanic backgrounds.

I don’t see this fading out of the news anytime soon. I see it getting worse.

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