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The Skyscraper

I posted this last year just hours before the All Star game.  It's quite fitting; the end of the fourth paragraph has a few added lines to keep it from being dated.  Enjoy the game, everyone.

Skyscraper: Modern building of great height, constructed on a steel skeleton. A form originated in the United States.

Look up as you walk past a 70-story building. As you continue to move the bottom of the structure moves with you, but the parallel plane at the top of the building seems suspended--as if attached to something. Of course it's only a matter of perspective, but from where you stand, the structure appears to scrape the sky.

A skyscraper is a physical representation of Man's/Woman's ingenuity, creativity, intelligence and ability--it's the physical representation of the assertion to achieve the best that is possible. Tonight, baseball's best will take the same field for one night only. Tonight, for three hours, you have an opportunity to see the best the game has to offer. Each player is a chance to see the pinnacle of human physical achievement in baseball--players with any combination of agility, talent and potential, focus, strength and speed.

As brick and mortar have given way to steel and glass, Joe DiMaggio has given way to Albert Pujols. As the spectacle of the Skyscraper has dulled over the years, so has the glimmer of the Mid-Summer Classic. While some may have lost the awe and admiration, you shouldn't lose the appreciation for the art. In some ways, as different as they may seem, the straight lines of the Sears Tower are just as impressive as the perfect form of a swing paused in mid-motion. The sun reflected in a structure of towering glass is as beautiful as a perfectly executed squeeze play. A building that attempts to reach the infinite recesses of the sky can be as magnificent as a center fielder climbing the fence to bring back a ball that should not have been caught.

There is appreciation and beauty to be found in the best of all things. The next time you drive into Minneapolis on 35W, or into Chicago on I-90, or New York on I-80, notice how the Skyscrapers stand head and shoulders above the rest of the city. They are the apex of human ability. Tonight when you watch the All Stars play their game, notice the things they do that can't be done by everyday players. When the Twins resume their schedule, take a moment to appreciate the way Torii Hunter patrols center field; to appreciate the poise of Joe Mauer; to understand the violence that consumes Francisco Liriano mid-pitch; to revel in the assassin-like skill of Johan Santana; to take pride in the confidence filling Justin Morneau's eyes.

All Stars and players like them are the Skyscrapers of baseball, by whom their continued presence proves why they are the best there is. As spires appear to reach to the unreachable, players on the field continue to do the same. Gloves of defenders will try to reach just a little bit higher; baseballs will be attempted to be hit just a little bit further. All this will be done in an attempt to push the limits, to try to reach the unreachable...all done in attempts to scrape the sky.