Wait Till Next Year

It's official.

There will be no Minor League Baseball Season.

Did anyone expect there to be one? No, but you always hoped.

That was the matra of the line "Wait till next year," annually uttered by the Brooklyn Dodgers fans until they finally won the World Series in 1955.

Well, today, we officially begin the wait.

The decision has come down. Any hope is removed. The Renegades released a statement, which you can read here.

And now, we look forward to 2021.

On Twitter, JJ Cooper, Executive Editor for Baseball America, tweeted the following:

Let's create a thread. Feel free to share what Minor League Baseball means to you.

— JJ Cooper (@jjcoop36) June 30, 2020

So, OK, then. Here's what MiLB means to me.

Opportunity.

It's the opportunity to see a ballgame.

Not only that, but it's the opportunity to see an affordable ballgame. A burger or dog or some crazy concoction, along with a drink and tickets and even a souvenir that won't set you back a mortgage.

It's the opportunity to take the kids and see baseball through purely innocent eyes.

It's the opportunity to laugh and enjoy everything that charming ballparks have to offer.

It's opportunity to watch players who are tangible -- literally, you can almost reach out and touch them -- because they're mostly raw and happy to be there. They'll sign autographs for you and smile for your pictures. In some cases, they can even live with you if you're a host family.

It's the opportunity to make that team part of your family. Sean has been part of the Renegades for his entire life. Literally.

It's the opportunity for those players to play the game that they love, be it on the way up or even on the way down.

It's the opportunity for a community to feel connected to the game of baseball. Let's face it, MLB is great. Sure, we love the big league teams. But MiLB is truly the hometown team, especially in towns that aren't near a big league park.

The likelihood for kids and adults to step on the field is solid, either through running the bases after the game or participating in an in-game contest of some kind.

It's opportunity to work in baseball. For some, we have the personal story of emailing a radio station, asking for a chance to sit in on a few broadcasts. That leads to more than a few.

That leads to a chance to be the lead broadcaster.

And that leads, hopefully, to other opportunities.

It's all accessible and there's the opportunity to be a part of all of it.

It's the opportunity to watch these players, managers, umpires, executives, media members, and more and see them somewhere else one day. That player just might walk into Yankee Stadium.

It's the opportunity to sit in the stadium, long after the last out, and just soak it all in.

If you get your foot in the door, not only can you work at the ballpark, you'll experience all kinds of zany things.

It's the opportunity to sign autographs as a nobody broadcaster, and you're both embarrassed and moved.

Opportunity.

That's what Minor League Baseball means to me.

I'm sitting here right now heartbroken. I have literally zero idea what the balance of 2020 looks like.

But I have the opportunity -- indeed, the promise -- to call Hudson Valley Renegades games in 2021. Will that be a full-season opportunity? Honestly, those decisions are months away, but I know I'm a member of the Gades' family as of now and hope to see a lot more of them before next...March? April? June?

We just don't know.

I'm heartbroken but not shocked. That's sports.

After this brushback pitch, we'll dust ourselves off and get ready for the next one.

Opportunity awaits. It's just going to take some time.