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This was March 6, 1995, exactly 30 years ago, and as Reggie Jackson used to put it: “The guy with the boats isn’t too happy.” That would be George Steinbrenner, of course, and he had spent a few days wandering through the basement of Hell, also known as scab baseball.

The Yankees – or, more specifically, the truck drivers, physical education teachers and clerks who were mostly wearing Yankees uniforms – had been throttled by the Dodgers in their first exhibition game a few days earlier, 11-3. They’d be buried by the Braves a day later, 8-2.

And even the fact that the Yankees had swept two games from the Mets – the poet laureate of replacement ball, Joel Sherman, had dubbed that the “Mayor’s Atrophy Games” – didn’t mollify the guy with the boats.

Then-assistant Yankees GM Mike McCleary had tried to make light of this – “I guess we’re not the worst replacement team anymore!” he’d sarcastically enthused – but higher up the corporate flow chart, Steinbrenner had seen enough, and he summoned Gene Michael to his office at Fort Lauderdale Stadium and … well, picked a festering scab.