Welcome to Major League Baseball 2019. Today is opening day. I remember way back when I was a kid, a youngen, a tyke, a small fry even, on opening day we would sneak our transistor radios into school with our earphones surreptitiously threaded up our short sleeves so the teacher would not know we were listening to the game instead of conjugating irregular verbs. Like she really wasn’t going to notice that hunk of plastic on the desk. But we were young and stupid. Much like the players we cheered on. Oh, not the stupid part. Young. They were young, just like us. Younger than I ever, even to this day, realized.

Of the four major American sports, baseball has often been maligned as the old man sport. It’s slow, it’s boring, nothing happens for long stretches, anybody can play baseball. Eh, probably that last part is true. It does not take much to play baseball. A bat, a ball, a glove, and an open field and you have the minimum requirements for the game. But it’s not an old man’s sport. No, not at all. You see, also of the four major American sports, baseball is the only one opening this year’s season with nobody playing who was playing MLB baseball in the 20th century. Nobody taking the field today was there on opening day in 19-anything. No one. Not one. Nary a soul.

That’s only been 19 years. That’s one less than 20. For some of the younger folks reading those words 20 years could be a large percentage of their lives and might still seem like a long time. But looked at from a regular job perspective, twenty years doesn’t even get you a commemorative watch. Apparently for Major League Baseball, less than twenty years gets you retirement. Even for a government job you need to put in the “whole twenty” to cash in on a cushy pension.

Only 19 years. If a player started his major league career at the seemingly ancient age for a rookie of 25, he is among those sitting in lap of retirement luxury and not yet 45 years old. I had dreams of retiring at 55. I figured if that was old enough for the government to say I could start drawing from my IRA without penalty, and considering “retirement” is right there in the name of the account, then it must be the perfect age to target for retirement. Of course I knew I would more likely work until I hit 75. But 45. Forty-five! Wow.

I’m old enough not to be impressed by terribly much but that report really floored me. I’ve watched hockey players playing the game for over 20 years still this year. There is considerably more physical contact in hockey than baseball. Football and basketball both still have players who were wearing the uniforms from way back in the last century. Nobody ever called either of those an old man’s sport. Of any of them I’d not have pegged baseball as the first sport to lose everybody from the pre-2000 days.

As “they” might say, time marches on. It just doesn’t circle the bases.