Quick, give Sammy his Superman cape. Ronald Martinez/Getty Images

By Jacob Luft

What, you didn't know? Men in Black III is premiering this weekend. How could you forget?

OK, so maybe that is a slight exaggeration. (If Sosa wants to wear his Oakleys instead of the Ray-Bans, I'm sure they will let it slide.)

Excuse me for being a little skeptical about the Spider-Man 2 ads on the bases, but we all know where this is going. Seen a Euro soccer match lately, with players selling Carlsberg beer or Siemens mobile phone minutes on their jerseys? This is baseball, folks. Not NASCAR. God forbid we see Randy Johnson thanking Budweiser for making his no-hitter possible someday.

Make no mistake, folks. This isn't a slippery slope we're talking about. It's a cliff. Today, ads on the bases. Tomorrow, Joe Buck is selling me Geritol -- tonic for your tired blood! -- between pitches. But even that I could stomach. I can even put up with those floating ads behind the batter's box that make hitters look like a weatherman in front of a green screen.

But when the marketing mavens interfere with the actual field of play, with the bases and the bats and the baseballs and -- egads! -- the uniforms? We have to draw the line somewhere.

Let's just hope Will Smith has a good fastball.

Up next: league-wide Spidey backpacks. Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

By Pete McEntegart

Baseball purists are upset? So what. The typical baseball purist is an old white guy who wears sweaters and falls asleep on his recliner by the fifth inning, muttering about the DH rule. Consider the strongest critic of the plan: Ralph Nader. Is there a more out-of-touch man in America?

Remember that big global showdown a few years back between capitalism and communism? Well, capitalism won. Get over it. Baseball is big business, and businesses need to generate revenue. If some of that comes from a few ads on the bases, that's fine with me. Don't like it? I hear the Cuban League is kicking off soon.

Baseball doesn't have the luxury of staying stuck in a sepia-tinged fantasy world that never really existed anyway. Next time you see a clip of Roger Maris' 61st home run, notice that the stadium's practically empty and the outfield wall is festooned with ads.

If you want your team to chase that next big free agent -- especially if you root for Kansas City or Minnesota -- you should be thanking Bud Selig for his rare moment of foresight. Maybe people will stop calling the commish a used-car salesman and give him credit for what he really is: a guy who sold new cars.

Plus, today's BALCO-plagued game can only benefit from its Spidey connection. Wondering how your favorite slugger went from skinny to ripped in one offseason? No, no, not steroids. You see, there was this radioactive spider ...