Baseball's All-Star Game is tonight, just a few subway stops north of here at Yankee Stadium. I will be watching it from my couch, and it's likely that hamburgers and apple pie will be on the menu, if only metaphorically.
The primary difference between the sides, besides one having Derek Jeter on it and the other not (though Chase Utley could interest me for a long weekend), is the American League's use of the designated hitter, meaning that with very rare exceptions, pitchers don't have to hit. As the game is in an AL park, that's how it will be played tonight.
This rule is regularly railed at by traditionalists. But most workers specialize. My dermatologist is a medical school graduate with years of experience, but when I need a pelvic exam, I'm calling a gynecologist.
Some even think there should be a constitutional amendment outlawing the DH, as in this speech from Bull Durham, which I think may be the best baseball movie ever made, though many men seem to prefer the richer but more sentimental Field of Dreams. But as we all know, there's no crying in baseball, so perhaps they're actually the designated weepers.