The coronavirus has brought a halt to the game that Major League Baseball hasn’t experienced despite its last two work stoppages.
Coronavirus scare shakes foundation of baseball world
MESA, Ariz. — Two rows of workers feverishly pushed small lakes of water off the spacious Sloan Park grass parking lot in hopes of providing somewhat tolerable conditions in preparation for Thursday’s exhibition between the Dodgers and Cubs.
Their efforts were admirable, and the unseasonably wet, cool Arizona weather eventually will give way to the comfortable conditions fans have anticipated and enjoyed for decades at spring training.
But unlike the 9/11 attacks that suspended regular-season games for six days, there’s no definitive resumption date after the coronavirus has put a massive lockdown on communities around the world, including baseball.
Major League Baseball provided a conservative reference
date by stating the regular season would be delayed by at least two weeks, but some government officials — including Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker and Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot — took greater measures by suggesting to professional sports owners to postpone home events until at least May 1.
The need for safety supersedes the long list of current baseball questions — such as when the regular season might actually start and whether the postponed games will be replayed.
But unlike the 1994-95 players strike, which lasted 232 days — ending the ’94 season with seven weeks remaining and trimming the first 18 games off the ’95 schedule — this stoppage is not about owners and players disagreeing on wages, service time and other compensation.
From executives such as Cubs President Theo Epstein to manager David Ross and players Kris Bryant (whose wife, Jessica, is expecting the couple’s first child next month) and Jason Heyward, the Cubs acknowledge the severity of the coronavirus and the need for protection that expands to their families and fans.
There was understandable anger when baseball came to a halt in August 1994, from gameday employees who lost wages that were needed for rent, child care and clothing for their children. Many team employees who were laid off by their teams never looked back, finding new careers without any urge to re-engage with the sport on a full-time basis.
Owners failed miserably in their attempt to use replacement players that had displayed their shortcomings in spring training games.
Major-league players were locked out of their spring training facilities, forcing them to train on their own and some taking batting practice with weathered baseballs.
Everyone suffered a financial hit. But virtually everyone rebounded as the bulk of the fans returned.
Unfortunately for the gameday workers, the coronavirus might persist long enough to the point postponed games won’t be rescheduled and perhaps wipe out more games than the strike caused at the end of the 1994 season.
In 2001, the week’s worth of games lost because of the 9/11 attacks were rescheduled at the end of the regular season. And the resumption of play provided timely healing for a country on edge.
The emotions reached a zenith before Game 3 of the 2001 World
Series when President George W. Bush threw the ceremonial first pitch at Yankee Stadium — about 11 miles from the twin towers — and fueled the spirits of many fans, as well as players from the Diamondbacks and Yankees.
Unfortunately, there isn’t a live outlet right now. Sports at all levels virtually have been shut down. That wasn’t the case in the fall of 1994, when baseball fans could turn to the final weeks of the minor-league season, follow the Arizona Fall League (with Michael Jordan) or Latin American leagues or shift their attention to football, basketball or hockey.
Suddenly, a spring once saturated with coverage of the Astros’ sign-stealing controversy, the Yankees’ myriad injuries, the White Sox’s big moves and the Cubs’ plans to bat Bryant at the leadoff spot have quickly quelled.
And what’s currently at stake is significantly greater to everyone — not just baseball.