In just one more of a never-ending string of stories, large and small, that makes perfectly clear that the internet has poisoned our brains to such an extent that we are in a constant state of This [index finger and thumb barely separated] Close To Losing It, there is a controversy surrounding the frigging Home Run Derby.
The long and the short of it is this: Hometown hero Bryce Harper beat Chicago's slimmed-down big boy Kyle Schwarber in a wildly entertaining final round last night in Washington, D.C. and Cubs fans (I assume??) are none too happy because of a rule that I do not think I have ever seen enforced (that could simply be because "Home Run Derby Rulebook" has not quite made the summer reading list yet, but I digress.) The pitcher, in this case Bryce Harper's own dad—a family of cheats!—must wait until the batted ball lands before he can throw the next pitch. Bryce Harper's dad (allegedly!) did not do this as Harper mounted his thrilling (YMMV) comeback.
To answer the question: yes, we are just ignoring this. My God, of course we are ignoring this. In fact, we are ignoring this so much that you can go ahead and live the rest of your lives thinking Kyle Schwarber was the 2018 MLB All-Star Home Run Derby Presented By Whatever the Fuck champion. Just go ahead, no one will really mind, except to note that those doing so are ABSOLUTE MANIACS.
Like most of you—and apparently unlike many others of you—I have no personal stake in who gets the trophy for Batting Practice, But on TV. Call me the opposite of crazy, but I just wanted to see some dudes mash some taters. And guess what? I saw some dudes mash some taters and I enjoyed the approximation of drama as it ended. I left the experience feeling a lighthearted sense of satisfaction in using my time better than had I binged Royal Pains for the second time.
What I did not do, was type in all caps on Twitter about how someone cheated at the Home Run Derby, an event that is more meaningless than the actual sport it vaguely resembles, which is itself fairly meaningless in the cosmic scheme of things.
It is a tough nut to crack, I understand. Because, we have rules and rules must be followed. The Uniform Rules of Baseball, But Not Really Baseball clearly—again, I cannot totally confirm this because I promised my dying neighbor who was like one of those uncles who's not really an uncle but you call him one anyway, that I would never, ever, familiarize myself with the Home Run Derby Rules, God rest his soul—require the ball to land in the stands or on the field among all the teens out there shagging flies as they would during a real game, before the pitcher can throw another ball.
But consider this: you are mad about the Home Run Derby and should maybe log off and pet a dog or something.