Let Trump Throw The First Pitch.

In a few short weeks, ‘The Show’ officially returns from its winter hibernation. As we speak, Spring Training is underway, which means rust is being shaken off, career minor leaguers are putting up ungodly numbers, and GMs are praying to God, Allah, and their Jobu Voodoo dolls that their ace’s creaky elbow doesn’t need a second opinion from the infamous Dr. Andrews.

Baseball has arrived, and with it comes the first of what will likely be many uncomfortable dalliances between the Major Leagues and politics in America.

It began this week when Orioles VP/Guy-Who-Is-Single-Handedly-Propping-Up-the-Hair-Gel-Industry John Angelos appeared on a Baltimore podcast, and said that his papa’s Orioles would not invite President Trump to the team’s home opener to throw out the ceremonial first pitch— unless the President apologized first.

First off, good on Angelos. With a straight face, he was able to use the public platform afforded to him through nepotism to call out a serial nepotist. It takes a special strength of character to stomach that level of sketchy hypocrisy.

Second off, this request is insane.

Even with five weeks notice, it would be impossible for Trump to apologize for everything. I mean, where would he start? With women? With immigrants? The Press? Attacks on his enemies? Attacks on his former friends? Attacks on his current friends? Even if Angelos narrows down the list by a few hundred affronted, five weeks wouldn’t be enough time. It’s just not feasible.

But that isn’t the worst part. Where Angelos’ request really falls apart is when you start thinking about what he wants to achieve — which is making Trump admit fault.

Angelos is leveraging his position of power (lordship over a mediocre baseball franchise) to restrict and squash what’s been an unwritten staple of Americana for the past century. If that sounds familiar, it’s because it comes straight from the Trumpian Playbook. The ceremonial first pitch is a tradition bigger than any one person or their political stripes. Instead of stealing the President’s tactics, Angelos needs to show that Trump’s opponents occupy a higher ground, not the same shady field.

And speaking of fields, Angelos misses a huge opportunity by keeping Trump from his. To borrow a metaphor, Trump has only played home games for the last seven months. Since the final debate ended, Trump’s exclusively spent time with home crowds, in home environments, playing under his rules. Everything has been contrived, perfectly crafted(at least as perfectly as his team is capable of), and immaculately staged. His handlers keep him away from anything that could upset him, or his worldview. Crowds have been controlled, carefully vetted, and President-positive. What the President (and moreover, America) needs is to play an away game. Trumps needs to spend time in a hostile, unpredictable environment, where he’ll be exposed to the Americans that don’t show up at his rallies. It needs to be just the President, standing on the mound, holding a baseball, up against the elements. It’ll be for the first time in a long time, a truly level playing field.

The Orioles have the chance to deliver exactly that. They can conduct the greatest Trump experiment to date — the President versus an unpredictable audience. Sure, it could backfire. Trump loyalists might swarm to Stubhub, and offer an ungodly amount of money for the chance to watch the Donald’s first pitch. But that’s the beauty of this opportunity. Who knows what might happen? What if they don’t show, and instead, Oriole fans boo the President, and he has to respond live to public displays of disaffection? The first pitch means that Trump — for the first time since the election— would receive a live, unfiltered, face-to-face referendum on his Presidency. If Angelos wants to challenge the President, he should be rolling out the red carpet, and letting the American people have an honest crack at the Cheetoh-in-Chief.

And if that‘s not enough of a reason to let him pitch, Angelos needs to realize that a Trump ban deprives Major Leaguers of something they desperately need— their own Kaepernick moment.

So far, ballplayers have stayed relatively mum on the subject of Trump, choosing to go with the ‘Keep your head down and play the game’ approach. Minus the unhinged assery of Curt Schilling, or the indirect criticism by Dexter Fowler, players have mostly shied away from wading into the current political climate. Even when they do speak up —as Adam Jones did last year at the height of Kneel-Gate when he said baseball players don’t protest because ‘it’s a white man’s game’— it’s usually to deliver a message about the lack of messages.

But a Trump first-pitch is different. There’s no ducking into the clubhouse, or hiding behind platitudes. For players like Roberto Osuna and Marco Estrada of the Jays —the Orioles opponent for the opener—it would mean sharing the diamond with a man who called their fellow countrymen murderers and rapists. Banning Trump robs Major League players of their greatest chance to-date of a meaningful protest. The opening pitch is a national moment, with all eyes fixed on Trump. Forget the memes or mockery. If he walks up to the mound, grips the ball, and sees four players kneeling in protest to his vision of America, that’ll be an image that long outlasts the Trump Presidency, and will firmly thrust America’s pastime into the discussion of America’s future.

If Trump has the courage (or arrogance) to show up, the Orioles should oblige him. It’ll give fans a chance to weigh in, it’ll give players a chance to speak out, and for the first time in a long time, it’ll give America the honest and authentic moment it deserves.