Can it be three full months that we’ve been almost entirely without organized sports … amateur, college or pro?

We haven’t gotten used to it, but we’ve reluctantly come to accept it.

The past two weeks were spent in Maine, but it was different than the previous 43 years of late spring and midsummer weeks I’ve spent there.

Growing up outside of Albany, a mere 2 ½ hours from Boston, my favorite American League team was the Red Sox. Thus, New England was a perfect place to be anytime from Memorial Day weekend through Labor Day.

On a weekend during afternoon games, you could walk the length of the beach and never miss a pitch thanks to the myriad portable radios broadcasting the play-by-play.

And, at night, every bar and restaurant had their TVs tuned to Red Sox games … unless the Celtics and Bruins were in the playoffs, but even then, they only shared the billing.

This year?

Nothing.

And, for 15 days, earlier this month, I missed baseball more than at any time in my life.

Oh, there were two lost weeks in ’72, a couple of days in ’85 and a week’s delay in 1990 and triple that in ’95, all due to labor issues.

But the more memorable seasons — for all the wrong reasons — were 1981 and ’94.

In the former, a work stoppage gutted 55 games from each team’s season, though there was a World Series with an old-time flavor, the Dodgers of Fernando Valenzuela beating the Yankees in six games.

The 1994 season … not so much.

That year, the game stopped in August and never continued. Indeed, the labor dispute dragged into ’95, creating that three-week delay in the start of the season to produce an abbreviated spring training.

But what’s going on now is unprecedented.

LAST WEEK, Baseball Commissioner Rob Manfred guaranteed “100%” there would be baseball in 2020 … which made me wonder if he was paying attention.

Yesterday, he admitted having no confidence there will be baseball this season and conceded the impasse is “a disaster for the game.”

He’s right, of course, but both sides are at fault and have dug in their heels.

However, it’s the fans who become the victim because none of them are taking sides when, as the cliche goes, “billionaires are fighting with millionaires.”

Then, too, some players have already said they won’t play … even if the season restarts. And the owners aren’t about to acquiesce to the players’ salary demands in a shortened campaign, when the estimated loss per game played without fans is $640,000.

Each day that passes makes it more likely there will be no baseball.

And though the game long ago ceded its role as “America’s Pastime” to pro football, it still remains popular.

How many fans have you heard chaffing to see jury-rigged NBA and NHL playoffs sans fans?

After the 1994 debacle, it took baseball four seasons to begin to regain its pre-strike fan base and the catalyst was the memorable home run derby between the Cardinals Mark McGwire and Cubs Sammy Sosa. That charismatic 1998 season, of course, soon lost its luster in the shadow of the Steroid Era. McGwire admitted juicing and is now enshrined in the Hall of Fame, Sosa hasn’t … and he’s still waiting.

And if the fallout from ’94 wasn’t a lesson learned for Major League Baseball, it can review the cautionary tale of the NFL.

After the controversy over players kneeling during the national anthem, started by 49ers’ quarterback Colin Kaepernick in the 2016 season, many fans, on both sides of the issue, deserted the game and still haven’t come back.

You would hope that baseball gets the message.

(Chuck Pollock, a Bradford Publishing senior sports columnist, can be reached at cpollock@oleantimesherald.com)