In the bottom of the third inning of Game 6 of the American League Championship Series between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Cleveland Guardians last night, Rays slugger Junior Caminero worked a walk to put two runners on with no outs. The Rays were up 2-0 and the Guardians were already on their fourth pitcher of the night. Freddy Peralta, waiting and watching in the Rays dugout, had made easy work of the Cleveland lineup through the first three innings, looking close to unhittable, just as he has all
postseason.
In other words, this moment was, up to that point, the biggest moment in the game. It was one of those early innings moments that makes you say “this could be it right here.” A subtly big moment that many of the more casual fans who tune in during October might not immediately recognize. It was a moment, then, that a broadcast intent on providing the best possible product to its consumers would want to highlight.
So how did the TBS broadcast crew handle this? Did they raise the tenor of their voices to match the intensity of the moment? Did they talk about the repertoire of Guardians’ pitcher Joey Cantillo and discuss how he pitches with runners in scoring position? Did they zoom in on the next batter, Chandler Simpson, and give the viewer his offensive profile and a preview of how he might approach the at-bat? Did they even mention Chandler Simpson’s name at all?
No. We did not get any of that as Junior Caminero strutted to first. Instead, we got Kate McKinnon — dressed like David Bowie and inexplicably talking in an accent best described as “slightly different than normal talking” — who suddenly jumped on our screens to celebrate Zoom. Yes, that Zoom. In what was the biggest moment in the game up to that point, MLB and TBS decided to stop talking about the game so that we could all be reminded of the thing that’s responsible for the worst part of our day, every day.
MLB, TBS, and even Zoom itself all know that absolutely no one in the world wanted to see that in-game ad at that moment. So if it seems weird to you that MLB and TBS would intentionally degrade the quality of their product and alienate their consumers, well, here’s something to keep in mind: Baseball isn’t actually the product and we fans aren’t actually the consumers. The dirty little secret of the business of baseball (or one of them, anyway) is that we fans are the product.
MLB’s business model is built on capturing our eyes, our hearts, and our attention, and then packaging it and selling it to its corporate partners — advertisers, real estate development companies, TV networks and streamers, and gambling companies. This is why Rob Manfred doesn’t care that the fragmentation of broadcast rights has made it harder for us to actually watch the games. This is why postseason broadcasts frequently miss the first pitch of an inning to finish airing a commercial. This is why, 127 years after a gambling scandal nearly killed MLB for good and created the commissioner’s office in the first place, the commissioner no longer has any qualms about partnering with a gambling company that is currently taking bets on the Cornell rape case.
It’s going to be very important for you to remember this in the coming months, when, during a protracted owner-induced lockout, Manfred and the owners are going to spend a lot of time spewing bullshit about how they have the best interests of the fans at heart. They don’t. If they actually did, then they would not allow the biggest moments of their broadcasts to be hijacked by a corporate sponsor for the purpose of reminding us that Zoom exists. (Which, since it’s not possible for anyone in America in 2026 to forget Zoom in the first place, is really about reminding us that there’s no escaping the inevitable “you will work all the time, from anywhere” hellscape of corporate slavery that awaits us all.)
It is not the goal of Rob Manfred and the owners to create the best possible baseball product for the fans. Their goal is to harvest our eyeballs and sell them at market price. Welcome to late stage capitalism, welcome to the lockout.
