Enough is enough. At this point I think we’d all rather watch replays of “Little Big League” and “Major League” on the MLB network than get our hopes up for the off chance the player’s union and the owners decide to stop lobbing passive aggressive tweets at each other to, you know, actually play baseball.

70 games. 60 games. 50 games. 90 games and we play into December in front of rats with open bottles of Schnapps at Citizens Bank Park….who gives a shit. It doesn’t matter at this point.

It’s almost July. Tommy Hunter is still mourning the death of all-you-can-eat buffets….is there any possible chance they’re going to be ready to play by August? Are we kidding ourselves? Is 60 games even worth getting out of bed for on the off chance that we’re probably going to be cancelling the season by mid-August after the first relief pitcher gets COVID-19 after going to a nightclub in Cleveland.

Manfred doesn’t care. The players don’t care. The owners don’t care. They’re just going to strike again in 2022…this right here, what’s happening in the summer, is just posturing for the real labor strike two years from now.

There isn’t going to be a McGwire and Sosa home run derby race to pull the league out of the mire. It’s over Johnny, and sadly nobody involved with the league sees it happening.

Put the horrible new Phanatic costume on mothballs for the year, make sure Seranthony Dominguez finally gets his surgery and stock up on turtle wax for Tom McCarthy’s skull for next year.

Stop jerking the fans around and let’s all realize it just isn’t going to happen.