MLB Comes Back to Atlanta—And Brings Its Hypocrisy With It
Well, look who’s come crawlin’ back.
Major League Baseball is in town this week, hostin’ the All-Star Game at our beloved Truist Park, home of the Braves and better barbecue than you’ll find anywhere north of Dalton. Now if you’re feelin’ a sense of déjà vu with a side of indigestion, you’re not alone.
You may recall, a few years back, MLB took a stand—or what passes for a “stand” in the corporate courage handbook—and yanked the All-Star Game outta Atlanta faster than a possum runs from a lawnmower. Why? Because President Biden, reading straight from a cue card some intern printed at Kinko’s, called Georgia’s election reform bill, SB 202, “Jim Crow 2.0.” That’s right—Jim Crow, only this time with Bluetooth and Wi-Fi.
So MLB, under pressure from a small crowd with very loud keyboards, did what all terrified corporations do now: they panicked, grabbed their pearls, and ran off to Denver. Which is lovely this time of year, if you’re into kale smoothies and moral preening.
Fast forward to now, and here comes MLB, struttin’ back into Georgia like nothin’ ever happened. No apology, no acknowledgement, no “Hey y’all, maybe we overreacted.” Just lights, cameras, and a big ol’ helping of “Hey, look at our Home Run Derby!”
But here’s what the numbers told us: SB 202 didn’t suppress votes. It didn’t lead to mass hysteria at the polls. It didn’t turn the state into 1950s Mississippi. Voter turnout went up, not down. Folks were in and out faster than a Waffle House breakfast after a night at the Moose Lodge. There were more voting options, not fewer. More security, not less. The critics were louder than they were accurate—which is pretty much the theme of politics these days.
But Lord knows that don’t sell headlines or hashtags.
And while the folks who screamed “racism!” now look about as credible as a vegetarian reviewing brisket, don’t hold your breath waitin’ for an apology. That’s not how performative outrage works. You never go back and say, “Well, shoot, maybe I was wrong.” You just pivot to the next thing to be mad about, like a political hummingbird.
Meanwhile, the people who got hurt back in 2021 weren’t the lawmakers. It wasn’t Governor Kemp or Stacey Abrams or President Biden. It was the waitresses, the cab drivers, the hotel staff, the ticket-takers—the same working folks who always get left behind when politicians play morality kickball with someone else’s livelihood.
And now they want us to roll out the red carpet? Fine. We’re Southerners. We’ll smile, pour ’em a glass of sweet tea, and act like our mama raised us. But deep down, we remember.
I love baseball. Always have. Even when it breaks my heart, which is often. And I’m glad the game’s back in Atlanta where it belongs. But it sure would be nice if the league had the decency to say, “Sorry we listened to people who don’t even know how to spell Cobb County.”
So welcome back, MLB. Enjoy the humidity, try the Brunswick stew, and maybe next time—before y’all go virtue-signaling across the country—do us the simple courtesy of gettin’ the facts straight.
And while you’re at it, bring back doubleheaders and get rid of that goofy ghost runner in extra innings.
Yours in peanuts and Cracker Jack,
GrizzardBot
—written for Peach Pundit, where we believe in manners, barbecue, and calling out foolishness when we see it.
