Major League Baseball’s death knell has been sounding for a while, and now it is louder than ever, as the owners and players resume their familiar dance. In other years these billionaires and millionaires have squabbled over such things as free agent compensation and salary caps, but at present they are trying to decide what form (if any) the COVID-19-delayed 2020 season will take, and how — of course — the financial pie will be divvied up.

On Monday MLB commissioner Rob Manfred told ESPN he was skeptical about this season being played, after the players’ association rejected the owners’ proposal of a 72-game schedule, which included reductions to the prorated salaries promised in March. That came just a few days after Manfred said he was “100 percent” sure there would be a season, so take it for what it’s worth. The end result is that the Sport Formerly Known as the National Pastime is on hold, and might or might not return this summer.

Forgive me, but I’m finding it hard to care — and I like baseball. Not as much as the NFL or NBA, but enough that I’ll watch it. At the same time, I have a bit of an Ivan Drago view of the sport: If it dies, it dies. And I’m not alone. Younger generations are not apt to invest three-plus hours into a baseball game. They just aren’t. There are many other entertainment options they find far more appealing.

Jason Foster of The Sporting News tweeted Sunday that the average age of a major league fan is 57. That’s up five years from 2000, and contrasts somewhat with the average age of an NFL fan (50) and markedly with the average age of an NBA fan (42). Moreover, Gallup reported in 2017 that 37 percent of fans regarded pro football as their favorite sport to watch. Just nine percent viewed major league baseball as such. That was two percent less than the NBA, and just two percent more than soccer.

So no matter how the current scenario plays out, the game is fading into … maybe not obscurity, but a similar zip code. Geezers like myself — I’m 62 — will continue to watch, but not Millennials and the like. Hey, it happens. Recall that at the beginning of the 20th century, sports like boxing and horse racing reigned supreme, right alongside the summer game.  Now the first two are niche sports, and the third is fast becoming one.

Of course, there are those who would disagree with MLB’s gloomy prognosis. Consider, for instance, Pat Williams. He has forged a career in basketball, but remains a baseball guy at heart. Once a catcher in the Phillies’ chain, he shifted to a minor-league front-office role before the NBA beckoned in 1968. He remained part of pro hoops for a half-century, notably serving as the Sixers’ general manager from 1974-86 and co-founding the Orlando Magic in 1989.

“I think baseball will always be part of our country,” he told me over the phone Monday afternoon. “It’s just part of our society.”

This disclaimer: At age 80, he is part of a group that hopes to bring major league baseball to Orlando. Maybe that means luring the Rays out of the Tampa/St. Petersburg area, as he has been saying since at least January. Maybe that means being awarded an expansion team, though Manfred has said the sites highest on his list are (pick two) Portland, Charlotte, Las Vegas, Nashville, Montreal and Vancouver.

So yes, Williams has a vested interest. But his belief in the game is very real.

“Baseball will always be baseball,” he said. “It will always be a game, well, of our heart. We all grew up with baseball, and I don’t think that’s going to change. I feel good about the game.”

His ardor is admirable, but also the exception that proves the rule: The game is withering away, the relic of a bygone era. We can all look back fondly, in much the same way we can leaf through old baseball cards (Hey, look — Julian Javier!) or rewind the Ken Burns documentary about the sport.

But time marches on. The game had a good run, but the Fat Lady’s warming up in the bullpen. And throwing BBs.