One of the more miserable experiences a sports fan in Southern California can endure is day baseball when the sun is out. And cooking.

Such as, oh, today or yesterday at Anaheim. Where the temps were pushing 100, the games were likely to last upwards of three hours and tens of thousands of people were mortal locks to fry themselves in a really unpleasant way.

You’ve seen them, the fans at day games. Right there in the noon-day sun, shirts off or tummies bared, legs uncovered, “luxuriating” … which would be fine — if they limited their exposure to, oh, maybe 10 minutes.

But hour after hour undergoing a broiling by our nearest star? Seriously unhealthy.

There is the possibility of heat stroke. There is the chance that even one beer might go instantly to your head and you’ll get in a fist fight with someone over a foul ball.

Or, worse, that you’ll pick up a second or third-degree sunburn of the sort that would send a dermatologist screaming. And may someday mean an appointment for you with said dermatologist.

Vanity, they name is sun-bather. How many times do we have to hear statistics such as “the sun is responsible for 90 percent of all skin cancers” to get out of the way? Or at the least to slather on the sun screen, buy a monster hat and some clothes the sun isn’t likely to penetrate?

How bad is the sun at a day ball game? So bad that I can be sitting in the press box, in the shade, and the sunlight reflected off of whatever … will give me a scalded face. This is reflected sun. Not even the direct stuff.

Anyway, I was thinking of the Angels and Dodgers game today. But when it became clear we were looking at another 90-something afternoon at the yard, I opted to say hidden inside my home.