The All-Star Game takes place tomorrow, and even though the commentators will make it a disgusting Yankees lovefest (more than usual, that is) because it's taking place in New York, I can't wait to watch. For me, the MLB All-Star Game not only surpasses its equivalent in other sports, but also ranks among the best events of the year. However, many journalists and fans dismiss it as a flawed, overblown exhibition. I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity offered by one of this week's tragically sports-free days to champion the much-maligned 'Midsummer Classic.'

Criticism: The All-Star Game, an exhibition, should not determine home-field advantage.

Previously, home-field advantage in the World Series alternated between the leagues, an arbitrarily instituted process that in no way rewarded teams (or leagues) for their performance. By contrast, the All-Star Game plan favors the superior league, with the competition being a reliable indicator of merit. The AL has won the past ten All-Star Games played to a decision, and, not coincidentally, has dominated interleague play and the postseason as well.

Criticism: The All-Star Game outcome, which now carries too much gravity, was previously completely irrelevant.

When the All-Star Game ended in an unsatisfying tie in 2002, Fire Joe Morgan whipping boy Jeffrey Flanagan decried the ensuing uproar in his Star column, challenging readers to name the winning All-Star squad from previous years. As usual, Flanagan missed the point. Let's say you play pickup basketball every Saturday, with the same group of guys. You might not be able to detail the specific won-loss chronology that took place a few weeks earlier, but at the time it damn well mattered that there was a winner and loser. The promise of definitive won/loss closure sustains dramatic tension, and when that sense was stripped away, the 2002 game went from being one of the best All-Star installments (extra innings) to the absolute, definitive worst. Now, due to the home-field advantage arrangement, the All-Star Game carries almost a post-season level of portent.

Criticism: The All-Star Game is not played or managed like a normal game, which is why it should not serve as a home-field measuring stick.

Unlike the All-Star Games in other sports, MLB's is played like a normal game, at least in terms of gameplay dynamics. The central conflict -- pitcher vs. batter -- is completely undiluted. In the NBA, the defender vs. offensive player conflict lacks heft because the best defensive specialists (Bowen, Camby) usually aren't selected. As a result, the match-ups become offensive player vs. offensive player acting in a lackluster defensive capacity. The NFL's Pro Bowl is a complete travesty because injury risks prevent the defense from playing with malice. The MLB's All-Star Game presents pitchers trying their best against batters doing the same, generating meaningful results in a string of compelling confrontations.

While it's undeniable that the All-Star Game isn't managed like a regular game, it's worth considering that managers usually don't have 32-man rosters filled with legitimate contributors. Also, in one-game-takes-all postseason situations,  which the All-Star game, with its home-field stakes, replicates, managers have been known to make unorthodox choices, such as placing players out of position and using starting pitchers in relief on two-days rest. Finally, due to measures taken to prevent another tie-game debacle, managers now save some players for late-inning substitutions instead of replacing players willy-nilly after every inning.

Criticism: The mandatory representation from each team cheapens the rosters.

As a Royals fan, I've recognized the ridiculousness of representatives such as Ken Harvey and Mark Redman. However, while I certainly wish superior Royals existed to take their spots, I'm still glad as a viewer that someone was there to wear the KC hat. Royals fans can take legitimate pride in representatives such as Soria, but even the Redmans of the world spark debate, create intrigue (is this guy seriously going to get into the game and face the likes of Pujols with home-field on the line?) and generate an endless supply of running jokes. Besides, I'd take a goofy Royals choice over yet another Red Sox or Yankees player (the likely result if representation were abolished) any day, much as I prefer when March Madness chooses small-conference schools with its at-large bids rather than 8th place BCS squads.

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Some of my favorite sports memories -- Bo Jackson's home run at the height of his "Bo Knows" advertising campaign, Hank Blalock's game-clincher off Eric "Game Over" Gagne at the height of his steroid-aided invincibility -- came from MLB's All-Star Game. Apparently I'm pretty much alone in treasuring these moments, as neither provided any YouTube hits to which I could link. Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to seeing Soria preserve the American League's dynasty; to heckling A-Rod, Jeter and the rest of McCarver's lovebirds; and to watching some relatively underrated small-market player steal the spotlight. I'd even enjoy it if Varitek ended up as the star, as Unworthy Selectee Makes Good always makes for an intriguing storyline. Who can forget when Terry Steinbach shrugged off his below-average stats en route to becoming the 1988 game's MVP? *Crickets* Oh well, trust me, it was kinda cool.