As the season slips away, we must enjoy each game, each inning, each pitch...

So... onward! Mr. Sulu, set the new coordinates for Baltimore. Warp speed one. As per directives, we'll wear our shields...

And so it goes... 

A Frankensteined schedule on Snowpiercer trains to Zombieland cities with The Shining hotels... baseball goes on. Somehow, we ended up in one of those movie dystopias we've been watching for the last 30 years. We finally made it Beyond Thunderdome, where everything but the virus moves in slow motion, and, sadly, there is no Tina Turner to lead us. We're here, on the Sci-Fi channel. We're in the movie. 

See the newsreel of last night's violence? It's part of every apocalyptic movie, the thumbnail recap of how humanity turned against itself, leaving this small band of strangers - this baseball team - to roam the planet in search of games. Supposedly, a cannibalistic tribe in Baltimore has issued a challenge, and so we will try to make our way to that burned-out, urban hellhole and play them... tonight.

We have assembled the tropes: 

Giancarlo, the aging soldier who seeks redemption for his once good name.

Gerrit, the mysterious newcomer, said to have escaped a tribe that was known for dark magic. 

Gleyber, the impetuous youngster who struggles to control his incredible powers.

Clint, their former friend, now banished, who may yet hold the key to everything. 

And if we survive Baltimore, other battles will loom.

If one bit of information can be teased from yesterday's marathon of doom-scrolling news, it is that we should savor every single moment of baseball this year, while it lasts. 

Thus, I am hereby suspending all complaints about fake crowd noise or the horrible new extra-innings base-runner rule. At any time, this year in baseball could halt. Robert Frost once wondered if the end would come in fire or ice? In fact, it might happen in a tweet.

Despite the Whine Ban, I do want to maintain some bile-burning indignation towards the juju gods, who had to make this the year everything turned to shit. 

I truly believe that 2020 offered the best Yankee team in this millennium, our best chance to win a world series since 2009. We had everything. But we've all seen the movies. We know what happens: Only a chosen few get out alive. 

The late Warren Zevon was once asked what he had learned after being diagnosed with terminal cancer. He replied, "Enjoy every sandwich." Words to live by. 

The Yankees play Baltimore tonight. I say, watch every game as if it might be your last. Four games in, and the 2020 season has hit the crossroads. Beam us up, Scotty.