So as this coronavirus - plus the stone-fisted reaction to it - rolls over America, we can produce little more than a soup of silly ideas over how to get our sports in gear. Mostly we hear billionaire owners and millionaire commissioners bark about dates that keep getting shoved down the calendar.
Major League Baseball, however, has summoned a way to start their season that doesn't sound stupid or look silly.
Our pastime would be partitioned into three divisions - East, Central, and West - without regard to traditional AL and NL placing. Each division would play their games in Florida, Texas, and Arizona, respectively. If they started the season on June 1 they would have 122 days to play 100 games by October 1. If they needed to cut it spandex-tight, then a June 15 opening day would give them 107 days, which allows for very few days off. The big-league parks in each hub has a retractable roof, which should blunt the impact of rainouts, even if some of the games are played in minor-league parks.
So the Dodgers and Angels would be in the same division, as would the Cubs and White Sox.
Of course, we don't care about that. We would just be drooling over a season of Mets vs Yankees, old-school, Old-Testament-style battles for a playoff spot. Under the MLB proposal, four teams from each division would qualify for the postseason, 12 clubs in all. If each team played the other nine teams in their division 11 times that would total 99 games. So maybe the Mets and Yanks play each other 12 times, and the other East teams 11 times.
Sounds like fun, like we're making the best of a baleful world. There's no way we can nudge the traditionalists, the purists who have calcified over time, who still dread the day Ron Bloomberg came to the plate in the first inning of a dank day at Fenway Park on April 6, 1973, as the first DH in history. Playoffs? Forget it!! Interleague play? Hush! We're not going to reach the folks who think our oldest game should also be the dullest.
We can get lost in the minutiae of playoff formats, or whether this really counts as an authentic baseball season with a true World Series champion. But for now it at least this plan the most agreeable aesthetics. And considering baseball has struggled to keep young fans engaged - late games that tickle midnight on school days, pitchers fiddling with the ball, batters with endless, spastic rituals, etc - the idea of a season slashed almost in half has to help. And since these games would be played sans fans in attendance, they key is to grab the teen's attention before you lose him to UFC, Fortnight, or Madden '20.
And who doesn't want to see Jacob deGrom face Gerrit Cole? Perhaps they pitch against each other four times, to epic TV ratings. Who doesn't want some Pete Alonso in their lives? Who's not dying to see Aaron Judge swing a bat with bad intentions? Who doesn't want a shortened season to pivot on a game or two between two Big Apple teams?
This all assumes a confluence of unconfirmed protocols, from testing to safety to an agreement between MLB and the MLBPA. Baseball has often doubled as a beacon during hard times in our country. It may not be our singular team sport anymore, but it's still our pastime, still lords over New York City, and would offer endless relief to our tattered town.
Twitter: @JasonKeidel
