All Star Game Hangover: I’m With 28 and Have We Wasted Wright’s Prime?
The end of yet another Mid-Summer Classic… I swear that I complain more and more about these All Star Games every passing year, but maybe I’m just getting crankier as I get older. I was hoping they would have been able to squeeze in 60 seconds during the four hour Derek Jeter love-fest to perhaps honor the memories of Tony Gwynn, Don Zimmer and Frank Cashen. But what the heck do I...
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