This was, I think, the most apt summary of the Giants-Dodgers series in LA that just concluded with each team winning two games:
The Dodgers have a lineup thatâs absolutely loaded with talent, a bedtime story for bad little pitchers who donât do what their mommies say. They are Icarus if the wings never melted off, Napoleon if he never invaded Russia, Aaron Rowand if no one had ever invented the breaking ball. They have All-Stars or should-be-All-Stars or one-day-soon-All-Stars at every position. They are the Platonic ideal of a lineup, the form to which all other lineups aspire.
The Giants lineup wasâŚnot that. The Giants lineup was, uh, a bunch of guys who are professional baseball players, and then they went out and played some baseball, all right. Yes sir, they sure did take at bats and do well enough in those at bats to win two baseball games and come on, I canât do this.
Baseball was supposed to be the distraction from COVID. Its return was sold as a return to normalcy, a salve for a public that was tragically bereft of new live sports. Instead, itâs a carbon monoxide alarm whose beeping sends a clear message: âTHIS IS WRONG THIS IS WRONG THIS IS WRONG.â
âThatâs a low battery alarm,â Commissioner Rob Manfred has been instructed by his bosses to say. âNo problem. Go back to sleep.â
But 11 Marlins players and 2 Marlins coaches tested positive on Sunday and Monday, and between those two tests they played a game against the Phillies (and won, hilariously) in Philadelphia. This means that they ruined Mondayâs schedule for themselves, the Phillies, their next opponent (the Orioles), and the Philiesâ next opponent (the Yankees). It means that the umpires were exposed, and the grounds crew, and the clubbies, and the maids in the hotel. It means that the Marlins have to call up a brand new 40% of their roster to try to fill the gaps in the roster.
It means that this shouldnât be happening.
If it wasnât before, it is now abundantly clear that there was no contingency plan for this scenario. Manfred eventually went on MLB Network and said that this wasnât a ânightmare scenarioâ and he would only pause a teamâs season if it lost âa number of players that rendered it completely non-competitive.â
One could quibble over whether the Marlins were ever competitive, but if one were a Giants fan, one probably shouldnât throw stones here in 2020.
âCompletely non-competitiveâ is obviously subjective, a way for Rob Manfred to avoid the tricky business of doing the right thing from a public health standpoint. The reason for that is simple: if there were a bar to clear for baseball to not be played, and that bar included objective data, then Manfred would want to bypass it. The message is âWe will play this season come hell or high water or second coronavirus wave.â
Itâs an absurd position, of course. Every part of this season is absurd, and that includes the idea that weâll look at baseball but somehow look away from the virus starting to tear through it. Itâs absurd to think that baseball fans will take the narrowest possible view of whatâs happening on the field, and talk about that, and give great ratings for that, and celebrate that, and just omit the problems that are very much in the forefront of both the sport and the country.
Does it really matter that the Giants split a series against the Dodgers in LA while using a lineup cobbled together with old leather and used gum? Not in the face of everything else it doesnât. MLB wants desperately for you to pretend that it does, that Baseball Is Helping A Wounded Nation Heal, and any price is worth that. But this season is the height of arrogant bullheadedness, exuding a cavalier disregard for any logical health-related policy.
Medical experts and epidemiologists have started to add their voices to the choir saying donât you dare play baseball in all this. Nevertheless, baseball dared. The Marlins were the first team to pay a heavy price for it. They wonât be the last.