Baseball’s long-awaited return: It’ll be fun despite the idiots in charge of the sport
And after all of that, baseball is still going to be fun. And soon. This old line, told for years in baseball circles, has never been more true:
You know baseball is the best game because it’s still here despite the idiots in charge.
Many of you are angry. That’s understandable. How could anyone not understand that? Many of you will need more than a 60-game season, running from about July 23 to late September, to watch again. Some of you might never return. Again: understandable.
Baseball created this mess for itself, like a toddler who throws every toy he has in a fit of rage over receiving the wrong sippy cup. Now the sport must deal with the consequences.
But for those of us who’ll watch — those of us who can’t wait to watch, despite it all, like some lovesick teenager clinching to a toxic but exciting crush — it’ll be a damn good time.
Sixty games! That’s, what, a college season? It’s the season the NBA should play. Baseball’s great separator has always been the 162-game grind. The stamina and pace and toughness required is impossible to do justice in a column like this, and hopefully we get back to that soon.
For now, though, we get an unprecedented, grind-in-fast-forward, ain’t-no-such-thing-as-small-sample-size, flukes-might-last-long-enough-for-a-playoff-spot drag race of a season.
We’re going to feel this in Kansas City, as much as anywhere in the country.
Back when only doctors and bank robbers wore face masks, the Royals were given a 0.3 percent chance of making the playoffs in a 162-game season, according to FanGraphs.
Now, using data from various oddsmakers, that number is at 14.2 percent.
Hey, that’s a higher number than basically any of their 2015 playoff games after seven innings.
More to the point, this will be a season with subplots we’ve never seen before and, vaccine willing, won’t ever see again. Weird extra-inning rules. Designated hitters for all. Schedules anvil-heavy on division games (and, long as you’re dreaming, that could give the Royals’ chances an extra boost).
How about this: pitchers holding nothing back, which, combined with taxi squads (how long until these are called “rideshare squads”?) and managers protecting for injuries, should mean every pitch is closer than ever to max effort.
Then again, there is a thought from some that playing in empty stadiums will mean lowered velocity — less adrenaline for those fastballs, lower spin rates, etc.
Let’s get back to local implications. A disproportionate amount of the Royals’ future depends on prospects like Brady Singer, Jackson Kowar, Daniel Lynch, Bobby Witt Jr. and now first-round draft pick Asa Lacy. We were always going to start seeing Singer and some other top prospects in Kansas City this summer, but without a minor-league season the only place for them to compete is stadiums with three decks.
We’ll be able to see that development more closely, is the point. The future is being pulled closer to the now.
There will be problems. Disruptions. Strangeness. We all need to understand that, and to some degree, accept it. Minor-leaguers will be forced over their skis, put against the world’s best players before they’re ready. At some point, and probably early in the season, we’ll have an injured list that looks something like this:
Joe Smith, 10 days (quarantine).
That’s a real thing, and baseball is accepting heightened risk by playing games in home stadiums instead of creating a so-called bubble, the way the NBA and MLS are doing.
Spring training facilities have already shut down because of viral spread, and many major-league games will be held in states and cities with rising case loads. MLB can diminish some of that risk with frequent testing and strict protocols. Players will be encouraged to stay at home or at the hotel when they’re not at the ballpark.
But all it takes is one infected hotel worker or one family outing at the wrong place to create wide spread on one team, and potentially more.
This is a critical question that the commissioner’s office and players must confront: How much risk really is acceptable?
Even in the best scenario, and even assuming a complete season and playoffs take place, history will view the results and champion of this season as something less than completely legitimate.
But what if the Dodgers or Yankees — widely viewed as the preseason favorites — find 10 infections during the postseason?
At that point, we’d have players not good enough for a big-league roster in a normal year competing for the sport’s highest prize.
There will be chaos. Some will complain about that, but, if we’re honest, chaos can be fun.
In normal times, a hot week from an otherwise replaceable player can be easily written off — small sample size.
But there is another baseball saying appropriate here — championships are won in small sample sizes.
This year, for the first (and, again, hopefully last) time ever, the right to play for that championship will be earned in a small sample size.
We’ll have plenty of time to debate how much that championship ultimately means.
But until then, we can also have a hell of a time watching how it happens. Baseball is back, despite itself, and here come so many of us who love the sport, despite the frustrations and sadness created by unnecessary months of embarrassing bickering.