#Let’s hope MLB can pull off this bizarre season: Sherman

The season begins with an immunologist throwing out the ceremonial first pitch — and that immunologist, Dr. Anthony Fauci, is one of the most famous people in the country.

The season begins with many players, including Aroldis Chapman, AL Rookie of the Year Yordan Alvarez and All-Star Austin Meadows on the COVID-19 Replacement Injured List, and we wonder what the number would have to swell to in order to shut down the game again.

The season begins with the Blue Jays having to play 60 games outside of Toronto and no firm deal yet where the nomads would call “home” after Pennsylvania joined Canada in refusing to take the team in. At the moment, they are supposed to “host” a game for the first time on July 29.

The season begins with no fans, unless cardboard cutouts and piped-in noise is your thing. Will “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” still be played every seventh-inning stretch, even if no one could be taken out to the ballgame?

The season begins with an MLB Big Brother looking out for what is now forbidden, such as spitting, high-fiving and fraternizing with opponents. A vital element in 2020 is who does the best internal policing, since the healthiest teams are going to have a substantial edge.

The season begins with a 60-game schedule — by June 6 last year, every team had played 60 games. The Phillies had the second-best record in the NL. The Rangers were in playoff position. The commissioner, though, has control of this schedule and could shorten or end it at any time.

The season begins, and 39 days later there is the trade deadline. Without the minor leagues to judge prospects. With no more than five weeks to determine whether to buy or sell. With concern about the morality of asking a player to move himself and perhaps his family in a pandemic.

The season begins with the designated hitter in both leagues, a runner on second to start extra innings and virtual advertising projected onto the field (have to make some money back somehow). If you are a traditionalist, bring your own peanuts, popcorn and defibrillator.

But here is the thing — the season begins. At 7:08 p.m. Thursday, Max Scherzer is scheduled to relieve Fauci and deliver the first meaningful pitch of this season. He will be opposed by Gerrit Cole in his Yankees debut.

At any other time in the game’s history this would elicit euphoria for baseball fans — a faceoff of elite starters at their peak; the biggest team in the sport in the nation’s capital against the defending champs. This is how you would draw it up for how a season should begin. But this one was drawn up in pencil with a very thick eraser.

This one will have extremes. Much will be familiar, much will be bizarre. There will be a sense of both joy and dread. The happiness of watching the games will mix with the worry if it is right to be doing so in a pandemic.

How long will it take to normalize the national anthem becoming a forum for gestures toward social justice such as kneeling? Players distancing under canopies in the stands? Pitchers carrying a wet rag in their back pocket to gain moisture on the ball because they can no longer go to their mouths?

Will it ever normalize? If MLB can get this season rolling, use its protocols to limit coronavirus cases, stack one week of games on top of another, will this feel like a major league season? Will 60 games be enough to spark familiar debates about best teams, best players, who will win? Or will it always be abbreviated, asterisk-filled?

The season begins and I have all the curiosities and conflicts. I want to appreciate all the challenges, all the hurdles, all that could go wrong. But I want to see it go right. We are not getting a standard season, and something potentially longer was lost in contentious negotiations between MLB and the union. Yet, this is what we have. And I want to embrace it.

I want to see Mookie Betts as a Dodger, Anthony Rendon as an Angel and Cole as a Yankee. I want to see Shohei Ohtani hitting and pitching regularly. I want to see Mike Trout being Mike Trout, and the same for Christian Yelich and Jacob deGrom and Marcus Semien. I want to see what the Astros look like post exposure as cheaters, even if there are no fans. I want to see if the Padres, Reds and White Sox really are ready to take a giant step toward contention.

Even for 60 games, I want to see Aaron Judge’s might and Kyle Hendricks’ finesse. The speed of Walker Buehler’s fastball and Trea Turner’s legs. Clayton Kershaw’s curveball, Luis Castillo’s changeup and Adam Ottavino’s Bugs Bunny slider. The intensity of Josh Donaldson and the joy of Francisco Lindor. The growth of Ronald Acuna Jr. and Juan Soto, and the debuts of Luis Robert and MacKenzie Gore. The all-around brilliance of Cody Bellinger, Alex Bregman and Xander Bogaerts. The comeback attempts of Yoenis Cespedes and Lance McCullers Jr. Zack Britton throwing ground balls and Nolan Arenado magically fielding them. Seth Lugo for two innings and Justin Verlander still trying to deal nine. The continued rise of Buehler and Jack Flaherty and the refusal to fall of Zack Greinke and Nelson Cruz.

The season begins and I see all that can go wrong. But here is hoping Scherzer and Cole pass a baton of possibility and it all goes right.