We had a good run, didn’t we? Five games, two good, not too shabby. The 2020 season was nice. I watched all of about three games, maybe not even those three beginning to end. I would look in on the games, catch little bits here and there, but only about twice did I sit down and watch, really watch, the way I have every other year of my life prior to this one.
It was never real. Just like the rest of this horrid year, baseball never really came, never really mattered, never really existed. It was nice to have the dream of baseball while it lasted, but here we are, the first week of August just passed, usually the beginning of the dog days, and we’re looking at a team decimated by a virus (actually more than decimated, but I won’t be that guy who pushes his glasses up and um, actually’s the definition of decimate, promise), and a season that seems more and more like both a bad idea and a fading dream.