After months of players and owners bickering, a version of baseball is back

So now we know there will be a baseball season after all. Well, yay. I guess.

I was pumped when the news broke that baseball owners and the players union agreed to a 60-day season. There’s only so many reruns of “memorable” 2019 games or 25-year-old All-Star games that even the most avid baseball fan can watch.

So I’m sure that when MLB starts playing the last week of July, I’ll watch the games, if for no other reason than sheer boredom.

But I’m not sure that I’ll care. The owners and players have treated this pandemic as a bargaining chip. I’m reminded of the words of Ted Turner, who knew nothing about baseball -- either the game or the business -- when he bought the Atlanta Braves in 1975 and admonished his fellow owners for how antiquated the business model was.

“Gentlemen, we have the only legal monopoly in the country, and we’re (bleeping) it up.”

With the NBA and NHL seasons suspended and football uncertain for this fall, baseball had an opportunity to regain its foothold of relevance, which has been slipping every year for the past decade. The game itself has become tedious with walks and strikeouts up, and pitching changes every five minutes.

Along comes the pandemic of the century leading to record levels of unemployment and strife, and how do the owners and players respond? By bickering publicly like two idiots on Facebook. Most of us caught in the middle are either unfriending, unfollowing or at least snoozing for 30 days.

MLB commissioner Rob Manfred and MLBPA president Tony Clark should be fired for their ineptness during the past 60 days. The problem is the people whom they serve -- the owners and the players, respectively -- are too myopic and delusional to understand.

Unemployment quadrupled nationally from February to April. How did MLB owners and players respond? By arguing over how many games they would play in a shortened season, and how much the ridiculous salaries would be prorated.

But, sure, I’ll watch the Braves when they’re on and every other late-night MLB game if there’s nothing better to do. There’s only so many game shows, reality shows and classic reruns one can tolerate. (Professional tag? Seriously?)

And if the game goes to extra innings, I won’t turn it off just because they’ve turned it into Little League by putting a runner on second base.

Designated hitter in National League games? Whatever. If that means there won’t be eight pitching changes in the seventh inning then I suppose the tradeoff is tolerable. The days of National League pitchers batting are numbered. While I’m fundamentally opposed to the DH, I won’t miss watching Mike Foltynewicz looking like a tennis player trying to hit a baseball for the first time in his life.

Will I go to a game or two if fans are allowed in? Maybe, maybe not.

Two years ago, we started on a quest to attend a game in every major league ballpark. We started in Baltimore. Last year it was St. Louis. This year it was supposed to be Wrigley Field. My first thought was, “Hey, we can still check Miami or Tampa Bay or even Washington off our list.” Now, I’ll probably just wait until next year.

As for catching a Braves game, I’m not inclined to drop a hundred bucks on parking and tickets, and I dang sure won’t spend another $25 or whatever it is for a hot dog and a Coke. We’ll see.