Virtual Game 9: Higgy Hits Pole, Gets Win for Cole. Stanton Released (From Hospital).

Back-up catcher Kyle Higashioka hit his first home run of the 2020 virtual campaign today, an opposite field shot that just grazed the foul pole in right field, to secure a 3-2 win for Gerrit Cole, the pitcher's first win at home as a Yankee.

Aroldis Chapman was on the verge of getting the save, but his excessive sweating covered him so completely in liquid that he was ejected from the game for throwing a spitball.  Zack(h) Britton(Britain) then finished off the ninth for his first save of the year.

Giancarlo Stanton was released from the hospital, if not the Yankees, today.  While he was in a wheelchair per hospital regulations, he was simultaneously bench pressing three nurses with each hand.

Plague Theater: Humble Howard calls Bobby Murcer's epic walk-off

"Emotion won this game!" 

Catching up on some reading...

via https://thisisnthappiness.com/

Plague Theater: A visit from Mr. October and Broadway Joe

Like going five for five with a homerun.

The Master is living under "house arrest"

Thus far, I - absolutely, totally, without one microbe of doubt - hate 2020. What a piece-a-shit year! I should have known something was amiss, when the best part of New Year's Eve was watching Anderson Cooper get plastered. And it's been downhill from there!

The flu's march across China. Luis Severino's elbow. The flu's march across Korea. Giancarlo Stanton's calf. The flu's march across Italy. James Paxton's back. America's botched flu tests. Aaron Judge's rib. The Fox News "hoax" claims. The cancellation of spring training. Social distancing, flattening the curve, economic collapse, death tolls, hot spots, Jared, everything... EVERYTHING. And we're only fucking three months in. We've still got the flu's march across the heartland, the civil unrest, botched government checks, the hurricane seasons and - capping everything - the presidential election with its avalanche of hate. Then comes the Martian invasion, the zombie apocalypse, the extinction asteroid, the revolt of the machines and the recall of Goop! Yep, worst year ever. And  to think that I once associated 20/20 with Hugh Downs.  

So, based on the above scientific projections, there is no reason to expect the Yankees to win the 2020 world series, if there is one. I mean, here is a legitimate question: Do we even want a Yankee championship to be forever linked to this dreadful trip around the sun? You know what would fit this miserable 2020? No season. Or worse, the Astros winning... behind new manager Curt Schilling! 

But but BUT... there is a reason to keep going, to keep hoping, to keep the fire burning. His name is John Sterling. 

Today brings a news report on The Master's life in quarantine, which he calls "house arrest." Sterling - 81 and totally at-risk if he gets the virus - is staying put in his Jersey home, reading, watching TV, washing hands and waiting for the call - from either MLB or Joe Black. He belongs in the Hall of Fame, folks. (Note: So does Jethro Tull, by the way; did you know Tull is not in the rock Hall of Fame? Ridiculous.)  According to NJ.Com, Sterling says:

“Well, you'd like to have a normal life. There's no question that’s one of the tough things. You can't call up your friends and meet for dinner somewhere. There's no place that’s open. But I have a very lovely apartment looking over the Hudson. It’s a big apartment, and my kids will come down and bring me things and I read in the afternoon. Every afternoon I'm in the middle of a book.

"Anyway, I'm doing okay. I'm very lucky that I haven't got the virus. Suzyn hasn't gotten it. I call friends every day around the country to see how they're doing. And, you know, for them, so far so good.”

So far, so good. Baby steps. We're a quarter of the way through the worst year ever. But The Master is okay, and his message remains: Fifteen minutes can save you 15 percent or more on car insurance...

Plague Theater: Joe Pepitone, peacemaker

All because Jim Lonborg hit Thad Tillotson. 

Virtual Game 8: Jays Jack Cessa; Jeter Visits Stanton.

The Toronto Blue Jays battered the New York Yankees today, 14-8, returning the Yankees to being a .500 club.  The Yanks' search for a viable No. 4 starter continued, as Luis "Unless Strictly Nessa" Cessa gave up 7 earned runs in the first three innings.

Meanwhile, Miami Marlins GM and part-owner Derek Jeter went to visit Giancarlo Stanton in a Tampa hospital, where Stanton is still recovering from a suspected chorizo/churro/churro sauce case of food poisoning.

Jeter dismissed suggestions that his visit was only meant to turn a spotlight on Stanton's dismal attendance record since he became a Yankee.

"What?  No, that's not true at all.  I just wanted to see how my boy is holding up.  Strong as he looks, he has kind of a weak constitution.  Or didn't you guys know that up in New York?"

Jeter insisted there were no hard feelings between him and Yankees General Manager Brian Cashman, now recovering himself from an eagle attack instigated by a case of mistaken lizard identity.

"No, man, he really got me with that deal," said Jeter, poker-faced.  "And it was smart of him to have Klapisch write about it in that book of his.  Now he knows he's got my dander up, and I'll be rarin' to go for a rematch.  Two-of-three, Bri?"

When reporters asked Jeter if he were being sarcastic, the former Yankees star gave them a wondering, wide-eyed look.

"What, me?  No, man, the thing you gotta realize is how much smarter Brian Cashman is than the rest of us.  I mean, look at me:  I'm just a regular guy who lives in a huge, waterfront mansion with his supermodel wife and his friend, the greatest quarterback in NFL history.  A lot of times at night, Hannah and Gisele,and Tommy and I sit out on the deck and have a drink, and wonder about how Brian is doing with that English girlfriend of his, living la vida local."

Jeter also expressed the wish that Mr. Cashman refrain from throwing him into the briar patch.

Plague Theater: Mariano's greatest at-bat

Against the Mets, no less. 

Plague Theater: Seven Hours on a Canal Barge in England

The New Mexico Yankees? "Honestly, I think we could possibly need to find a neutral site for a little while because New York has been such a hotbed for this And guys are open to that. I know there are sites they’ve already discussed. I’m not sure if I should even say that publicly, but I know that there’s four sites or four or five sites that are going to have to be added."

Yankee union bulldog Zack Britton says informal chit-chats are taking place of what once seemed unthinkable: A baseball season played in locked-down parks, located somewhere south of East Shunk, in front of squirrels and plastic bags. Reports Newsday, of a SiriusXM interview:

“All [of us are] on the same page to play as many games as we possibly can,” Britton said of talks between the players and owners. “And if we have to do that in empty stadiums for the safety of the public, then I think that’s the right move."

Immediately, you think of Arizona and Florida. But both regions are lagging behind in the coronavirus death derby, which means that even when NYC hits its boiling point and starts to recede, they might be yet to crest. By June 1, will any parts of the country be safe enough to house full slates of teams? Will the season happen in Alaska? Are there ball fields in Iceland? 

The lack of sports to temporarily divert our attention has been one of the cruelest aspects of this pandemic. I can't handle any more daily news conferences, when we're constantly told how great everything is being done.

The lords of the game need to start thinking outside the bun, or this season could go out the window. At least people are talking. 

Plague Theater: Whitey Ford and the pretzels

 "A black day for baseball."

Plague Theater: Smile, Wade Boggs is on his horse

One of the greatest Yankee moments of all time.

Virtual Off-Day: Stanton Recovering Well in Tampa Hospital.

As the 4-3 Yankees enjoyed their second off-day of the young virtual season, slugger Giancarlo Stanton was reportedly well on the way to recovery from food poisoning in a Tampa hospital.

Stanton, who was sickened after eating a suspicious chorizo in Tampico, Mexico, is now bench pressing at least four ICU nurses at a time, according to a hospital source.

Doctors consulting on his case, meanwhile, explained at a briefing that, "We think now it's not so much the chorizo, as the churro he picked up.

"And not so much the churro, by itself a delectable treat of fried dough, sugar and/or cinnamon, but the nearly irresistible, chocolate or caramel sauce in which it is dipped."

The doctors then left the press conference to buy some churros.

During pandemic, Mets and Redsocks maintain evil status

To invoke a Trumpian phrase, "some people are saying" the Mets and Redsocks recently abused the nation's moratorium on non-emergency, elective surgery by sending Noah Syndergaard and Chris Sale to Dr. Tommy John.

Thor had his elbow done March 26, and Sale apparently underwent surgery March 30, long after the rest of us had to cancel our penile implants and boob jobs. Both operations came after governments had called for bans on elective surgery, so that critical items like surgical masks, gloves and gowns could be saved for the looming virus avalanche.

Of course, Syndergaard and Sale were emergencies: Their teams will need them next season! To wait would hamper their pennant chances!

Insert sigh here. 

Listen... In the overall scheme of injustice, this isn't a scandal. It's not Thorgate or Salegate. Honestly, I'm almost out of bile to fling, and we all know the deal here: This is about money - cabbage, moolah, bread, clibash, gigmoool, sklingah -  and when it comes to the almighty dollar, there are no rules, just shortcuts around them. Questions of fairness and ethics are suspended in the warm glow of gold. Since the dawn of currency, this has been the case. No virus will change that.

Kudos to Sports Illustrated for breaking the story. Today, a professor at New York University tells the Times: 

"The argument is: ‘Well, this needs to be a go because even though sports is suspended at the moment, this is a person’s livelihood and when things are up and running, it throws off all sorts of schedules, like rehab time. It’s an understandable argument, but it’s a no-go, because what we’re dealing with now in the world, it’s not a question of people’s livelihoods, it’s people’s lives, and there’s a big difference there. The scene out there in hospitals and clinics, it’s severe. It’s just not the time for Tommy John surgeries.”

There you have it: Some very, very rich people stood to lose money. Doors that should have been closed were greased open. Happens all the time. Let's not pretend otherwise. If the Yankees did it, you better believe there'd be an outcry. But these are two "lovable" teams. Get well, Thor! Stay safe, Chris! The Mets and Redsocks are doing their part to follow the corona protocols: They've washed their hands of them. 

I don't care if they never get back

Yankees announce "distress fund" for Stadium workers, but there's a catch. 
[New York Daily News]

For it's 1... 2... 3 strikes you're out

At the old ballgame 

According to the Yankees’ fund description, which was posted to the Yankees’ team Twitter account, the “New York Yankees COVID-19 Disaster Relief Program” will reimburse or pay some workers’ coronavirus-related expenses, including for “funeral needs.” However, the fund will not provide “wages, income replacement, or continuation of compensation or employee benefits” for their workers unable to earn a paycheck while the league is on hiatus until late-May at the earliest.

Though Forbes estimated the Yankees’ value at $4.6 billion in 2019, the organization wrote that the fund has “limited resources available to provide assistance” and “may be amended or terminated at any time."

The Yankees list criteria to determine their workers’ worthiness for “disaster relief,” though the money is ultimately sent at the “sole discretion of the Yankees.”

[...] “Eligibility for assistance” — as the team defines it — “does NOT mean that assistance will necessarily be paid.”

Plague Theater: When Kramer plunked Joe Pepitone

And he punched Mickey.

Virtual Home Opener! Yanks Route Blue Jays. Near Eagle Tragedy Averted.

Back on their home turf at last, the Yanks bombarded Toronto today, 13-6, before their smallest Opening Day crowd since 1919.

In their new effort to increase ballpark revenue, Les Freres Steinbrenner were found to have removed the entire bleacher sections of Yankee Stadium III for more Legends Suites.  Along with the new, Legends X-tra Wide Seats now in the upper decks, capacity was reduced to 17,436 in the steadily shrinking Stadium.

But what a game the capacity crowd got to see!

After surrendering massive, first-inning home runs to the "Sons of Thunder," Vladimir Guerrero, Jr., and Bo "Not the One that Fool Cashman Picked" Bichette, Yankees starter J.A. Happ settled in and pitched six, relatively strong innings.

The Yanks' offense was bolstered by Miguel "El Matador" Andujar, who hit four blistering doubles today, one of which even shattered the glass in the front of a new Legends Suite.  New York was also helped out when former Yankees Brandon Drury and Billy McKinney collided on the field, allowing rest Gardner's pop fly to drop, and Gardy to run out an inside-the-park home run.

Drury and McKinney were expected to return to action sometime in late August.

Meanwhile, before the game began, Yankees general manager Brian Cashman attempted to entertain the crowd by rappelling down the face of the Stadium video screen, as he has frequently done along buildings to raise money for charity.

Tragedy was narrowly averted when Cashman, who was dressed in the elf outfit he customarily wears for such charity events, was unexpectedly attacked and mauled by "Challenger," the bald eagle which customarily circuits the Stadium at such events.

Challenger, who was originally named "Tovarish," was imported from its native Albania, where the rock-climbing lizards Albanian eagles customarily feed on, bear an uncanny resemblance to the costumed Cashman.

"Is mistake.  He thought funny little man with hollow eyes is lunch," explained Challenger's handler, who would give his name only as "Boris."

Fortunately, the customary, $150 million flyover by U.S. Navy jets distracted Challenger/Tovarish long enough for the general manager—bloodied but still conscious—to make his escape.

"I'm an adrenaline junkie," Cashman later proclaimed from his hospital bed.

"If we had really needed him today—if we needed to make a big trade that gave away our future or to sign a free agent who would be a permanent millstone around our necks—he would've been there for us," Manager Ma Boone assured the press.

Meanwhile, Yankees slugger Giancarlo Stanton was reported to be recovering on schedule in a Tampa hospital from his case of food poisoning.

 

Plague Theater: When Reggie took revenge on John Denny

Watch "the Triumphant Gladiator" get carried off the field.



September 23, 1981... after Reggie was nearly beaned and then fanned. This'll get the quarantine juices flowing.

Plague Theater: Moose Skowron on being pinch hit for in the first inning

Rest in peace, sir. Everything went south on the day the Yankees traded you.

Wake up America! The Giancarlo Stanton virus is gas-lighting us all

The Soros-bred mutant, Giancarlo Stanton, burst onto America's sports scene in 2009, almost coinciding with the swine flu and Great Recession. Coincidence? I'd say convenience. People, it's time to wake up. Don't flatten the curve. Connect the dots! 

Stanton's arrival in the Clinton/Comey/Fauci snake pit of Miami neatly coincided with the economic meltdown and death of millions, both of which were neatly engineered (and then covered up) by "Bath House Barry" Obama and his jackbooted, anti-gun Rob Rosenstein/Nancy Pelosi/MS-13 thugs. Thus, the seeds were laid for today's media crackdown, which forces us to watch round-the-clock Cuomo family infomercials. But dammit, that's another story, altogether. Look closely at this "flu," and you instantly see everything revolves around Stanton.

FACT: On Feb. 25, the Yankees announce that Stanton has suffered some mysterious injury that nobody's ever heard of, which they label a "Grade One Right Calf Strain."

QUESTION: What the hell was Stanton doing with calves? He's not a rancher. He's a baseball player. He should have been on a ball field, not the open range. And nobody in the Yogi Berra/Micheal Kay/AOC Lie Machine even bothered to ask WTF.

FACT: Since Feb 25, the lamestream media/Cashman drivel tap has been pouring nonstop, using fraud-master Fauci - the little Freddie Patek of medical science" - to convince our great President that the economy must be tanked, and three years of incredible "My Pillow" sales should be tossed into New York Harbor like the U.S. Constitution, sacrificing not only our Second Amendment rights, but the best damn nights of sleep we've ever known!

QUESTION: Now, they're claiming Stanton is healed, and that he can play on opening day. Okay, that's not a question. Why should I be forced to ask your stupid questions. There's no reason to ask any more questions. Wake up, America. Giancarlo Stanton is the key. Do you really believe that his return - which should now happen on opening day - is coincidence? Get real. The fix is in. Buy shovels. It's time to start digging.

Plague Theater: Tony Soprano's "Joe Pepitone" moment

Three RBIs!

The wondrous moments that we're missing

The counter in the upper left corner says it all: 21 days since the last Yankee injury - actually, since the last Yankee anything. 

Today, everything seems so surreal. A hundred thousand deaths? How long can we last? Will I live to see another Yankee championship? I used to ask that question rhetorically, as a poke at Food Stamps Hal. Now, I ask it literally: A hundred thousand deaths?Who among us will lose in this looming lottery?

There were moments to the 2020 season I longed to see - now delayed indefinitely. Here's a short list. Please add your own...

1. Gerrit Cole's first game as a Yankee. The prodigal son. I saw him pitching into the eighth, then receiving a standing ovation. Goosebumps. 

2. Clint Frazier scoring in his last opportunity, via the injury to Aaron Judge. He'd hit his way into the lineup and become a lifelong Yankee. What a story to tell.

3. Crowds booing the Astros wherever they go - even some in Houston -  showing that fans understand - and will never forget - the magnitude of their cheating scandal.

4. Redsock fans cringing at the sight of Mookie Betts in a Dodgers uniform. How much does a guy need to do to win loyalty from a multi-billion dollar franchise? I'm glad his gone, but damn - Mookie deserved better.

5. Daily box scores from 17-year-old Jasson Dominiguez - aka "the Martian" - in the Dominican Summer League (and if does well, maybe the Florida rookie league.) For better or worse, I planned to watch this guy throughout his entire Yankee career. An epic saga.

6. Gleyber Torres. That's all. If he can play shortstop - MVP.

7. The rise or fall of Giancarlo Stanton, who cannot lose another Yankee season. The defining year of his career. Crunch time.

8. Finding that Gio Urshela's 2019 season was no fluke, and he is simply a late bloomer. Many top prospects fail at first, then one day figure it out. It's a mystery to me why the Yankees don't pursue more of them (though Cooperstown Cashman has been doing that in recent years.) 

9. Higgy. Yes, I'm not kidding. Higgy - Kyle Higashioka - making the most of his shot as a backup catcher. The guy will never hit for average, but his defense is solid, and he shows surprising power. We mourn the exit of beloved Yankees - (go Austin, go Didi, go Dellin) - but I had a feeling about Higgy. A valuable lug nut.

10. The captain - de facto, that is - Brett Gardner. There is no doubt who leads this team. Damn. It can't end this, right? It can't.

Virtual Game 6: "Wall of Death" Foils Yanks. Stanton Out With Chorizo Poisoning.

In virtual baseball today, the constantly improvising Tampa Bay Rays, with their current major-league payroll of 48 cents, defeated the New York Yankees, 2-1, thanks to a tactic borrowed from soccer.

With the Rays leading 2-1 in the ninth, the bases loaded and Miguel Andujar up for the Yanks, Tampa brought its entire infield and outfield in to stand within a foot of Andujar, leaving only a tiny slot for reliever Chaz Roe to throw a fastball.

When Yankees manager Ma Boone protested the alignment, the home plate umpire scratched his head and replied, "I dunno, looks okay to me.  Besides, I'd like to see one of these rich little bastards get really fucked up."

Sure enough, Andujar whacked a typical line drive, one that hit Rays first baseman Jean Daux in the forehead, killing him instantly—the first on-field, major-league death since the tragic beaning of Ray Chapman in 1920.  But the ball rebounded from Daux's skull to the catcher, who stepped on home plate, ending the game.

"Just one death in a century of baseball is a pretty good work-safety record, if you ask me," MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred pointed out, in a statement denying the Yankees' appeal of the game.  "Look at the how they've done in comparable occupations, such as coal-mining, commercial fishing, and meat rendering."

Tampa Bay denied charges that the late Mr. Daux was, in fact, a 66-year-old, alcoholic street drifter whom they had signed that morning and put on the field just before aligning the "Wall of Death" around Andujar.

"Hey, he's a legitimate prospect," insisted Rays manager Kevin Cash.  "We got a player named Chaz Roe, we could have one named Jean Daux."

Masahiro Tanaka took the loss, despite seven shutout innings and thirteen strikeouts.  Both the Rays' runs came when Clint Frazier stumbled in the outfield, chasing a flyball.  It was later revealed that the laces of Frazier's shoes had been mysteriously tied together before the inning began.  When asked if he had anything to do with the prank, GM Brian Cashman replied, "No comment.  Bwahahahahaha!"

In another disappointing note for the Yankees, slugger Giancarlo Stanton was felled by food poisoning, after eating a suspiciously aged chorizo he had bought on the street, during his recent, inadvertent side trip to Tampico.

Manager Boone said that Stanton would have been capable of playing if this had been a playoff game, provided the other Yankees did not mind him projectile vomiting on them in the dugout.

Plague Theater: Bernie and Jeet on Seinfeld

Admit it: You've been waiting for this.

"The Winning Team"

By the by, TCM is showing all-baseball movies and shorts through 8 p.m.

Coming up are "The Babe Ruth Story," "The Jackie Robinson Story," and the old-timey, 19th-century baseball flick, "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," starring Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra, and Esther Williams.

Just watched a fun Babe Ruth short, and some of "The Winning Team," which was Ronald Reagan and Doris Day in the Grover Cleveland Alexander story ("The great Alexander is pitching again in Washington...")

The move is basically dreck, and only remotely related to Pete Alexander's real story.  Among other things, the events in the famous game in which he struck out Tony "Poosh-em-up" Lazzeri are largely altered (and the guy playing Rogers Hornsby is a balding, pot-bellied character actor who looks to be at least 55).

BUT...great clips of the Original Stadium at full capacity during the World Series, and great clips of New Yorkers watching the giant scoreboards set up in Times Square.

Also, Robert Benchley in the short, "Opening Day," coming up at 4:45.

Virtual Game 5: Yanks Fall to Unique Strategy. Stanton Found!

The ever-innovative Tampa Bay Rays unleashed a brand-new strategy against the New York Yankees, starting a lineup of nine pitchers, and bringing in a different hurler for every single pitch thrown.  Thanks to a solo home run by Tampa Bay DH Ji-Man Choi, the Rays handed star free-agent acquisition, Gerrit Cole his first loss as a Yankee, 1-0.

With a new pitcher trotting to the mound for every single pitch, the game lasted 11 hours and 35 minutes.  Cole was removed from the game after the sixth inning, when he fell asleep on the bench, and could not be awakened.

Yankees manager Ma Boone protested that the Rays' strategy violated baseball's new rule that relief pitchers must be used for at least three innings.  Tampa Bay skipper Kevin Cash argued that since all of the pitchers used were already in and stayed in the lineup and on the field, this did not constitute true substitutions.

When the umpires appealed to the MLB home office in New York, they were only able to get through to a spoken message that told them:  "If one of the team's involved in your dispute is from New York, the decision will go against them.  If both teams are from New York, the decision will go against the New York Yankees."

"It was crazy out there," fumed Yanks' first sacker, Luke Voit.  "You had no way to make adjustments.  Everybody was throwing at different speeds, and to different locations, and from different angles, with the lefty and the righty, and the fastball and the curveball and the forkball and the screwball and HEY LADY!"

The loss dropped the Yankees to 3-2 on the season.

In some good news, Yankees superstar Giancarlo Stanton was found alive and well, roaming the streets of Tampico, Mexico, while munching on a chorizo.  He still believed himself to be in Tampa, and had noticed no difference between the violence-devastated Mexican city, and the popular Florida tourist destination.

"Tampa, Tampico—I thought it was the same thing," shrugged Stanton, when he was discovered by the Yankees' private investigators.

He added:  "Look, the traveling secretary usually takes care of these things, and I never leave the hotel, anyway.  I must say, however, that I have been fascinated to learn about the ancient roots of this community dating back to the surprisingly advanced but still little-known Huastec people of the pre-Columbian era.  Maybe I'll come back here to work with one of the archaeological teams over the winter, instead of just going to Cabo again."

Plague Theater: "DEREK JETER... YOU SUCK!"

From the era of Nomar. Before the crash. 

Imagining a June-to-October baseball season

For the sake of killing five minutes...

Let's say the virus runs its course by late May, allowing MLB to launch the 2020 season around June 15. 

The country will rejoice over a return to normalcy - to the great diversion of sports - but health officials might still be leery of massive crowds, and a grieving, still-recovering nation might not be ready, anyway.  

Thus, a revamped 81-game season might have to take place in empty stadiums, a made-for-TV league. And some cities might simply have to cancel. 

By June, New York and Seattle should have passed through the snake - with case loads declining and under control - but who knows where St. Louis or Kansas City will be? Thus, some franchises might call off the year. MLB might field a 12-or 16 team league. Disappointing, but better than nothing.

If so, players from canceled franchises might sign short term deals with the remaining teams. (This would require massive negotiations between owners and the players union, but both sides would have an interest in striking a deal.) The condensed league could feature veritable all-star teams, though this would undermine old-time rivalries. How would Yankee fans feel if, say, the Redsocks unveiled their new short-term second-baseman: Didi Gregorius? A bit manipulated, maybe? (Well, we could sign Jose Altuve, right?)

The shortened, made-for-TV league might have to take place in far-flung minor league cities, such as Boise or Batavia. Hopefully, some small metropolitan centers will escape the ravages of the virus. For network purposes, a stadium in Montana would be no different from one in Houston. 

It's hard to imagine the playoff structure. It might more resemble the Olympics than a regular post-season. If it rolls into November, it would have to take place in southern cities, on neutral fields - and that would be a shame. 

By October, maybe we will have a vaccine, a 15-minute test (maybe we already do) and a prescription drug that turns the virus into a flu. If so, a world series could be played in actual home cities, like Boston or New York. 

Wouldn't it be the greatest feeling, to survive this abyss, and have an old-fashioned, barn-burner of a world series? It's up to you, scientists. Baseball fever, save it? 

Plague Theater: The Joe Franklin Show with guest Andy Devine (1976)

Plague Theater: "CUZ YA SHOT DEREK JETER!"

From "The Other Guys," considered Jeet's greatest acting achievement.


"SHOULDA SHOT A-ROD!"

(Star-studded cast, by the way.) 

Hope, Diamond

A hundred bucks for an obstructed seat
Cold in the shadow, then blistering heat
The pushy stat-head who needs a shower
Nine inning games that last six hours
Fans in my row with tiny bladders
The $30 million .240 batter
Ear-blistering rock soundtrack
Fourteen dollar Cracker Jacks
Security lines that go on for days
Video reviews, endless delays
Wasted bankers on company plastic
Knucklehead experts so bombastic
Lazy players, greedy owners
Chatterboxes, needy loners
Pina colada spilled down my back--

Goddamnit, I want baseball back!

A-Rod: The future host of CENTERSTAGE? Or maybe even a voice driven by Jeep?

Yesterday, the renowned epidemiologist Dr. Alex Rodriguez did an Instagram Live Chat with Met slugger Pete Alonzo from Dr. J-Lo's Florida mansion mini-pool and perhaps - judging from the angle - while lying on his back. (Bulging disk?)

They discussed Tiger King, a Netflix documentary so daffy that you must keep reminding yourself that it's not a parody. (I've only watched the first two episodes, so no spoilers in the comments, okay?) It's possible that, someday, no chronicle of the Great Quarantine will be complete without mention of Joe Exotic.  

Glad A-Rod is keeping busy. Maybe I've gone soft, but I've come to see the guy as a benign character - a former future deity, now rapidly aging and struggling desperately - (and fruitlessly) - to stay relevant. He surely realizes that, no matter what he says or does, half the baseball world will always hate him. I did. There was a time when I went to bed at night hating him, dreamed of hating him, then woke up next morning hating him. I don't mind saying that, either. The bozo deserved it. 

These days, considering the darkness engulfing this world, I'm cutting people slack. I just hope he doesn't jump into politics. That could rouse a lot of demons. In the meantime, he's planning to do these chats on a weekly basis. Good for him. Future voice of the Yankees? That's hard to imagine, but here's something that isn't: The looming possibility that we may never hear another John Sterling Win Warble, or even another 15-second Geiko game insert from Suzyn. 

If you were taking odds on who'll be the next Voice of the Yankees Radio Network, driven by Jeep, the shortlist of candidates would be... any of the YES characters - Kay, Cone, Flaherty, O'Neill, etc. - some of the garden variety announcers, and - if he pursued it - A-Rod. For now, though, the greatest return to normalcy in the Yankiverse would be the sound of The Master's soothing voice, saying, "Thuhhhhhhhhhhh pitch..."  

Virtual Game 4: Monty Outfoxed in Tampa, Yanks Lose First. Stanton Missing.

The Yankees' first effort to develop a No. 4 starter for the 2020 season fell flat today, as the Tampa Bay Rays spoiled the return of Jordan Montgomery from Tommy John surgery.

The little-known Rays unleashed a blitzkrieg of base hits and stolen bases, running rings around Monty, and routing the Yanks by a final score of 14-2.  The big blow was a monstrous, grand-slam home run from rookie J.E.E. "Tank" Rommel, to the farthest part of the ballpark.  The ball was not retrieved, as no one was sitting there and none of the eight Tampa fans in attendance bothered to chase after it.

"We still have some work to do, but I was encouraged," said Montgomery, never a hard thrower, whose fastball topped out today at 45.  "Sure, I have a small ache in my shoulder, and my elbow is kinda sore, but just gimme a few minutes in the whirlpool."

Several reporters asked Manager Ma Boone if his team had not been distracted by the search for Giancarlo Stanton, who checked out of his Baltimore hotel last night, but did not make the team flight to Florida.

"Who's that now?" asked Boone, who looked befuddle.  "Oh, right, that guy.  Is he still on the roster? I mean, I'm sure he'd be ready to go, if we could find him."

Both Yankee runs were driven in by D.J. LeMahieu, on a hard roundball and a sacrifice fly.  He also made an outstanding play in the field.

Plague Theater: The Babe Ruth Story (1948)

Plague Theater: Actual Yankee rain delay music

Imagine listening to this for the next three months. 

Looking at timelines of a possible baseball season

On Dec. 21, 2019, China disclosed to the world a scary coronavirus in the province of Wuhan. (Here's the timeline.)

About 60 days later, Wuhan's number of cases peaked. 

On March 24, about 100 days following the outbreak, China said the epidemic was under control, and life could begin returning to normal.

We can be wary of anything China tells us (as you can, of me.) But for our simple-minded task of pondering the 2020 Yankees, let's assume America follows the Wuhan timeline. Thus, this outbreak would run about 100 days. (Even a wonder drug would take time to test and mass-distribute.)

On Jan. 21, the first U.S. case popped near Seattle. On March 1, a case turned up outside of NYC. Ever since, the numbers have exploded. Today, NY's "apex peak" in cases is probably 15-to-20 days away. From there, lesser outbreaks will roll across America. 

Bottom line, it will probably be about 100 days - from March 1 to late May - before America starts returning to normal. One hundred really awful, terrible, horrible, truly shitty, rotten, wicked-bad days.

Assuming we're still here (which I prefer to do), let's say baseball camps could open around mid-May. (No fans allowed in.) The goal could be to open on Memorial Day, or June 1. Some games might be played in empty stadiums. 

MLB would have lost about about 60 games. By canceling the All Star break, filling in off-days, playing seven-inning double-headers and adding an extra week in October, MLB could maybe play 100 games. (Question to the Peanut Gallery: Do any of you really want the World Series played in late November on neutral fields? I don't.) For the sake of pitchers' elbows alone, MLB might cut its losses and play a half-season, 80 games. Come September, we could enjoy a normal pennant race.

Coronavirus expert to replace Fauci?

Listen: I have no crystal ball. The shit storm to come might include hurricanes, earthquakes, civil unrest, invasions from Mars - and with limited sheets of toilet paper at our disposal. But if we can make it to Memorial Day, we might yet get to see Gerrit Cole achieve his lifelong dream. When the four walls start closing in, that's worth holding on for.

So... stay safe, be kind, wash your hands, and you heard it here first: 

There will be a baseball season. Think: July.

Virtual Game Three: Yanks Wide-Net, Bludgeon, Behead, Pluck, Devour Birds. Stanton Sits but Injures Coccyx.

The New York Yankees, off to a flying start in the world of virtual baseball this season, crushed the Orioles again in Camden Yards, by a score of 10-2.

Gleyber Torres once again excelled in his favorite ballpark, hitting for the cycle, adding another home run, knocking manager Brandon Hyde unconscious with a foul ball, and reducing the Orioles broadcast team to hysterical weeping.

Yankees starter J.A. Happ was reportedly incensed by the 14 actual Orioles fans in attendance, who at one point formed a chorus line atop the Baltimore dugout, and chanted:

"Happ, Happ,
He's got no sap!"

Happ responded with seven shutout innings, which delighted the 38,140 Yankees fans who had come down from New York to see the game.

Manager Aaron Boone decided to once again sit slugger Giancarlo Stanton, "just as a precautionary measure," but soon after Stanton emerged from the clubhouse and took his seat in the dugout, he began to complain of a sharp pain in his coccyx.  He was sent to a local hospital for tests.

For the third consecutive game, D.J. LeMahieu did everything right.