2020 has made us all losers. If the Manfred report and ruling on the Astros’ electronic sign stealing scandal felt like death, then maybe we should have anticipated the pestilence and war 2020 still had in store for us.
Famine now seems imminent.
At least Commodus could give Rome 150 days of games to distract the citizens from the misery, but we don’t even have that. It doesn’t help that my four-year-old boy keeps walking around the house, singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”
Since there are no real games, we have decided to pretend there are.