The word from the White House was that the president wanted baseball and other professional sports to resume to help keep the country moving forward, to provide at least a few minutes a day for a devastated nation to think about something other than the consuming horrors and death toll.
In the first days after 9/11, confused athletes gathered at Yankee Stadium and privately wondered whether they could play, given the shutdown of the nation's air space, and whether it was right to even think about playing games in the face of greater events. Back then, I was a beat writer assigned to the Yankees by The New York Times, and I listened to players fretting about what they should tell their children about what was right and practical.
But baseball executives and officials from other sports kept hearing from the White House: Go. Go. After a week of grieving and reflection, the games continued, and Mike Piazza and others demonstrated almost immediately that President George W. Bush's instinct to get back on the field was right, for the catharsis, for the healing. For weeks afterward, some people sorting through the desolation at Ground Zero talked about how they welcomed the temporary respite of the Yankees' postseason push. Just as sports had continued during World War II, with appropriate postponement for D-Day, they continued after 9/11.
The reflex to move ahead in the face of the current crisis is ingrained, expressed by President Trump after his conference call with the leaders of the major sports Saturday. "I want fans back in the arenas," Trump told reporters in a press briefing. "I think it's ... whenever we're ready. As soon as we can, obviously. And the fans want to be back, too. They want to see basketball and baseball and football and hockey. They want to see their sports. They want to go out onto the golf courses and breathe nice, clean, beautiful, fresh air."
But there is one enormous difference between the current situation and those days after 9/11. Nobody can say yet with confidence that in resuming games -- even in venues without fans in attendance -- many lives won't be driven into greater risk for infection of the coronavirus: the lives of athletes and the attending support staff, the lives of their families, and the lives of those with whom they come into contact afterward.
Until that concern is significantly alleviated, sports of any kind are at least impractical, and at worst immoral, given the dangers reinforced daily by world events.
The leaders of any league must weigh the worst-case scenarios, under the current context of there being no available vaccine: What if some or many deaths result from our decision to get back to work? What if athletes die or coaches or athletic trainers or cameramen or family members of athletes? What if a new coronavirus hot spot emerges from our games?
In the weeks after 9/11, I'd get calls from concerned friends and family asking about my well-being and safety -- and this happened most in the days leading up to the World Series. I'd assure them that in some respects, I was theoretically safer than I would be on most days working in public settings. It was as if packs of bomb-sniffing dogs had moved into ballparks in those days, and you couldn't move 10 feet without bumping into a cop who was part of the flood of security put in place by New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani. President Bush wore a bulletproof vest under his bulky jacket on the night he threw the first pitch to Yankees catcher Todd Greene -- better safe than sorry -- but he also was protected by a ring of snipers stationed on the roof of Yankee Stadium.
But as many health care professionals have acknowledged, the current enemy is unseen, undefined, its movements a mystery until it manifests -- after church services, funerals, parties, emergency room visits, a breath of contaminated air.
MLB officials have been in constant conversation with the players union about contingency plans that remain in a state of flux, rightly subject to the dictates of mayors and governors. Initially, after Opening Day was postponed, the hope was that the sport could resume in April. For now, the last official word from commissioner Rob Manfred was about a possible May start-up, but team officials acknowledge this is almost certainly impossible.
The baseball industry, like many others, appears likely to absorb a catastrophic hit, with some or perhaps even all of the 2020 schedule lost. The financial losses may be so great, some club officials acknowledge, that when the sport does resume, there could be a wave of player moves dictated by bottom-line concerns, just as there was following the 1995 strike and during the Great Depression. The Philadelphia Athletics sold superstars Jimmie Foxx and Lefty Grove; the Montreal Expos unloaded future Hall of Famer Larry Walker and others.
The players will continue to discuss when and how to get into action with MLB. Jameson Taillon, the player representative for the Pittsburgh Pirates, said that in the current climate, ideas are encouraged. The two sides have explored the efficacy of playing in empty ballparks, a concept first raised in the middle of last month.
The conversations are exploratory and necessary, and cost nothing but time when we all have nothing but time. As Ken Rosenthal wrote Saturday, there are logistical complications. Makeshift communities of hundreds would have to be created for the sake of the games, and with the virus' threat well established, the potential for liability is enormous.
The fact that legal jeopardy has been discussed underscores the inherent risks. What happens if some players, staffers or teams decline to participate -- some perhaps out of concern of the risk they'll create for those around them? This could be a litmus test for players and staffers: Will baseball owners live in the same self-quarantined bubble where the rank-and-file may need to reside?
More time and information are needed before baseball moves to push the players back to work. Baseball has long been part of the solution in America, but in this situation, it cannot allow itself to become part of the problem.
• Meanwhile, the storytelling continues on the Baseball Tonight podcast.
Friday: Craig Biggio discusses his son Cavan, catching Nolan Ryan as a rookie, and a pitcher's moonshine. Graphic artist Todd Radom jumps in with his weekly quiz.
Thursday: Taillon talks about how his rehabilitation from Tommy John surgery has been affected by coronavirus concerns, and changes that may come out of the MLB shutdown; Tim Kurkjian with a daily baseball fix.
Wednesday: Former pitcher Jim Kaat talks about playing against Ted Williams, Sandy Koufax and Mickey Mantle, and offers observations about Madison Bumgarner, Clayton Kershaw, Jacob deGrom and others. Paul Hembekides talks about Kaat's legacy.
Tuesday: Darryl Strawberry talks about the dominance of the '86 Mets and addresses the question of whether that team or the '98 Yankees was better.
Monday: Kyle Peterson discusses the changes to the forthcoming draft, and Sarah Langs has some draft and free-agent data.