It almost seemed like it was going to be a microcosm of the entire season. A 7-7 tie as the bottom of the eleventh inning rolled around. The thousands of spectators in attendance at Miller Park and the millions of fans viewing worldwide were all eagerly awaiting the dramatic extra-inning finish of the 2002 MLB all-star game.

Then it happened. The unbelievably excruciating announcement that commentators Joe Buck and Tim McCarver had been speculating over in the top half of the inning.

It was the announcement, made by Bud Selig, that point-Dexter tyrant of baseball, that the game would end in a tie.

A tie? Hockey occasionally ends in a tie. Football has the possibility of ending in a tie. I think soccer can end in a tie. But not baseball. This is one sport where there’s always a winner and a loser.

But not this time. There would be no winner in this game of baseball. And in the months following it appeared that there would be no winner in the sport of baseball altogether.

After a first half of the year dominated by constant talks of steroid testing, luxury taxes and revenue sharing, this was the last outcome that the already tolerant fans of baseball needed to endure.

The players and owners, in the months following the game, almost guaranteed that there was going to be a work stoppage before the post-season. That didn’t do much to help the sport either.

The majority of the already dwindling fans of America’s national pastime began throwing away their newly purchased jerseys and taking down their respective pennants. Most sports fans began familiarizing themselves with football’s new training camp rosters and embarked on the scouting process for the upcoming fantasy football season.

The sport of baseball had seemingly reached a new low. The possibility of a ninth work stoppage since pioneer Curt Ford’s historic arbitration case and the establishment of a players association was enough for many fans to dismiss the sport altogether.

After all, we’re now in a generation dominated by a fast paced society and decreasing attention spans. Football has become America’s sport, with its constant motion, hard hitting, lots of scoring and competitiveness. This was what the country wants to see. Then there’s basketball, and then there’s hockey.

Surely baseball wouldn’t be missed with the fall and winter sports looming on the horizon. Many already contend that it’s the most uneventful and boring sport to watch.

But then something happened. A tiny stream of light and a miniscule glimmer of hope began shining back down on the once-coveted baseball diamonds.

Just hours before the August 30 strike deadline, it was announced that a collective agreement had been reached between the players and owners, and the 2002 season would see its entirety. The issue of revenue sharing had been resolved and a luxury tax had been established. The players had even agreed to steroid testing.

All the previous problems dominating major league baseball had been thrown out with the trash. It was now time to recapture the national spotlight that had characterized the sport of baseball for the better part of the century. Or was it?

Most people had decided that the damage was already done. The mere setting of millionaires fighting billionaires for money was enough to keep them from eating cracker jacks and singing “Take me out to the ballgame.” Besides, college football had already started and the NFL was only a week away.

The diehard fans came back to the sport, and fans of contending teams made it out to the ballparks, but it became clear that baseball had taken a backseat to the more entertaining sports, the more “modern” sports.

This notion is somewhat disturbing. Baseball has been a pillar of this nation over the last century, and the thought of it being perceived on the same level of sports such as soccer is just shameful.

No one can deny that baseball has had its fair share of problems over the last decade, and every spec of criticism delivered to it has been undoubtedly earned. But the mistakes of the incoherent and greedy few that now control the sport, like Selig and the owners, is not nearly enough for a sport with such history and tradition to be swept under the rug.

Names like Ruth, DiMaggio, Gehrig, Mantle, Aaron, Williams, Mays, Ripken and Bonds have become staples to the sports community over the last 100 years and have emerged as some of this country’s most admirable heroes.

Baseball was a solace to America when we were fighting in the World Wars and enduring the Great Depression. It provided a distraction for a country torn apart by the conflict in Vietnam and it integrated its players at the height of segregation.

And just last year, in the wake of the alarming and devastating attacks of September 11, it was baseball that brought this country back together and began the healing process of a wounded nation.

All the while, creating moments and memories to last a lifetime.

Any doubter of the thrill and excitement that baseball brings to the table need not look any further than the games sitting in front of them. The mystery and drama of baseball in 40-degree weather is unparalleled as far as major sporting events go. There’s just something different about baseball in October — where every pitch and every base can decide the fate of the season.

Or where unsung heroes who spent most of the season on the bench rise to the occasion and catapult their previously unknown name to the likes of a Reggie Jackson or a Kirby Puckett.

The disturbing events that characterized baseball much of this past season have put a dire need for the October magic to once again transpire. Baseball owes it to its fans who have stuck with the sport. And those that have drifted need to be reminded why baseball is referred to as America’s national pastime.