There will be a day, at some point in the next six-plus months, when you might not want to watch a baseball game. It might be hard to imagine that right now, after a long offseason that has likely left you craving meaningful games. Following the season-opening Seoul Series, there will be 2,428 games played between today and Sept. 29, the final day of the regular season, and then of course a wild sprint of postseason games played after that. There will be a few of them, no matter how dutifully and enthusiastically we might chronicle them here at MLB.com, that you will probably skip. It’s all right. We understand.

• Your guide to all 15 Opening Day matchups

But as Opening Day arrives, an occasion when we consume as much baseball as we can in big, huge gulps, it is worth remembering that the glory in this game is as much in the days when it is routine as it is in the days where it feels special.

I am going to park myself in front of the television today and watch baseball for about 13 hours and obsess over every pitch. I’m going to marvel at all the new things I see: Shohei Ohtani in Dodger Blue, Juan Soto in Yankees pinstripes, Wyatt Langford (MLB Pipeline’s No. 6 prospect) in the big leagues with the Rangers. But soon I will get used to them. Soon it will not be a novelty to have 15 baseball games in one day. Soon I will not obsess over ever pitch.

• Every team's projected Opening Day lineup, rotation

And it is in this that the glory of baseball truly reveals itself.

I do not know what is in store for us over the next six months of our lives. The world is constantly changing; it can be difficult to keep up with sometimes, so much is always shifting. Our personal situations change. Maybe you’re about to graduate from high school or college this May; maybe your child is; maybe you have a wedding coming up; maybe you’ll take a new job; maybe you’ll move to a new city; maybe you’ll fall in love. Something wonderful might happen; something terrible might happen. All of it will change you. All of it will alter your life in ways you might not have expected. All of it will be different.

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But baseball won’t be. Baseball will always be there. Baseball is always … happening. There are so many things that baseball does well, but the best thing baseball does, in this humble typist’s opinion, is simply that it happens. Maybe you’ll have a bad day at work sometime this summer, and you’ll want to just go home and not think about it for a while -- baseball’s there for that. Maybe you’ll have a fantastic day that you just don’t want to end -- baseball’s there for that, too. Maybe you just want to go outside and watch grown men play a kid’s game for a while -- baseball is always, always there for that. Some days you will be too busy for baseball. That’s OK: It’ll go ahead and happen those days, too. It doesn’t matter where you are, because baseball is there, ready for whenever you need it.

There’s just no wrong way to do it. You can do it like us, and deep dive into every statistic, analyze every pitch, follow every storyline. You can just focus on your team, with the rest of baseball simply an “Opponent.” You can watch every day, you can check in every few days, you can stay up all night for the late games, you can get up early to get caught up on what you missed, you can watch at home, you can watch at the sports bar, you can watch at work, these days you can even watch in the car. (Make sure someone else is driving, though.) Baseball, for these next six months, is air. It’s everywhere around you, and it’s always working for you, whether you notice or not.

• Best Opening Day performances in MLB history

This is what I think about, every Opening Day, as I have four screens on in front of me at all times, as I catch myself thanking my lucky stars that there’s so much baseball today, wondering how in the world I went so long without it. I think about how it’s going to be there every day, for the next six months of my life, whenever I need it, and whenever I don’t. You can go as deep as you want, or as shallow as you want. Whatever works for you, whenever works for you.

It is routine. And it is also, of course, so much more. Because there will be those moments, in a Ronald Acuña Jr. stolen base, or a Mike Trout line drive, or an Aaron Judge moonshot, in which this baseball, this thing that happens every day, 2,430 games a year, for six-plus months, feels like the most transcendent thing in the world. Because that’s what baseball can do. It can transport you to someplace magical when you least expect it. That text will come in from your friend, perhaps when you’re out at dinner, or at your kid’s game, or just working late: Check out what YOUR FAVORITE PITCHER’S NAME HERE is doing. Is that a no-hitter? Shh, don’t say it out loud: You’ll jinx it. And suddenly a night that started out one way is about to turn into something else altogether.

That world, where there are stories every night, where miracles spring from the mundane, where nothing can happen or everything can, all starts today, on Opening Day. You can soak it all in today. You can pace yourself. You can do whatever you need to do. That’s what baseball is. It’s always happening. And it’s always there for you. It was gone for a while. Now it’s back.

You made it. We all made it.