It’s been more than 400 years since the Wampanoag and the Pilgrims shared their first harvest feast. On that day in late 1621, Myles Standish and Chief Massasoit enjoyed turkey, duck and geese. Along with corn, fish, and vegetables.

But even they got their pumpkin pie at Market Basket.

The Thanksgiving holiday we celebrate in the United States each year can trace its DNA back to George Washington and Abraham Lincoln.

The Father of Our Country decreed in 1789 that we “all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks, for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming a Nation” on Nov. 26.

In 1863, Honest Abe declared that all that was good during the Civil War were considered “the gracious gifts of the Highest God.” He asked Americans to use that day “as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.”

We still eat, and talk, turkey on Thanksgiving 161 years later.

In addition to offering praise for our “beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens,” we’re also praying for the over in the Cowboys-Giants game. The traditional two-legged bird has been replaced by a four-leg parlay that doesn’t cash because the Commanders can’t kick an extra point.

No matter, this day remains paramount for gratitude, humility and appreciation.

Given the state of things on the sports pages of late, there appears very little for which to be thankful.

When it comes to playing patsy, the Patriots now rival Lee Harvey Oswald. Jerod Mayo has made us miss Rod Rust. Turns out all that cash the Patriots had to burn was covered in asbestos. And just as untouchable. Robert Kraft is obligatorily shown on TV during each Patriots loss. It’s reminiscent of watching one of those Soviet Union premiers during a May Day parade in the early 1980s. The Gipper famously quipped at that time he’d like to meet with them but “they keep dying on me.”

The Red Sox need to lose just one more big-money free agent to clinch the “Jean Yawkey We Tried MLB Participation Trophy.” The “Blake Snell We Tried” banner drops at 1:27 p.m. on Opening Day.

John Henry’s hockey team plays at TD Garden on Friday night. He’d be as welcomed there by the Bruins’ faithful as your inebriated ex-spouse at the Thanksgiving table. Maybe he’ll go dressed as Blades.

The Bruins keep cutting in on the Red Sox monopoly on monotony, even without Jim Montgomery. They are now 10-10-3. At least their past three ex-coaches all found new jobs within a week.

All that is put in the fridge for today.

Today we offer thanks.

Here’s one short list for some of the things for which to be thankful in the world of sports:

The athletes.

Their parents.

(Most) of the coaches.

(Most) of the management types.

Modern medicine.

Arthroscopic surgery.

Concussion protocols.

Modern nutrition.

Physical therapy.

MRIs.

Team moms.

Volunteers.

Unpaid assistant coaches.

Team trainers.

Animal mascots.

Groundskeepers.

Zamboni drivers.

Cheerleaders.

Scoreboard operators.

Anyone who officiates youth and high school sports.

The guy who runs the refreshment stand.

Anyone who drives your kid to practice.

Liability insurance.

Good National Anthem singers.

The Dynasty (not the “The Dynasty”).

The Comeback (and “The Comeback”).

Bill Belichick speculation.

Drake Maye’s future.

Raffy Devers against the Yankees.

Jarren Duran’s athleticism.

Bruins vs. Maple Leafs in the playoffs.

Pasta.

The Little Ball Of Hate.

Ballpark sausages.

Cheap domestic draft beer.

Box seats.

Club seats.

Bleacher seats (for those under 21).

Pre-paid parking.

Stadium vendors.

Banner 18.

Banner 18 swag.

Trash talking Mark Cuban on social media about Banner 18.

Duck Boat parades.

Angry Jayson Tatum.

Quiet Jaylen Brown.

Payton Pritchard from half-court.

Kristaps Porzingis being able to play.

Ageless Al Horford.

Kyrie on the Mavs.

Spring Training.

March Madness.

Marathon Monday.

The Daytona 500.

The Farm Park in Arlington (God only knows what they call it these days).

Super Bowl Sunday.

Big Ten football afternoons.

SEC football Saturday nights.

The College Football Playoff.

The Frozen Four.

Title IX.

Watching Mookie Betts beat the Yankees in the World Series.

Not having to watch Tyson-Paul II.

5G.

5 Gbps Wi-Fi.

High-Def.

LED.

Big screens.

Small screens.

Data streams.

NFL RedZone & Sunday Ticket.

MLB Extra Innings.

NHL Center Ice.

NBA League Pass.

SiriusXM radio.

The Ghost Runner.

Video review under 90 seconds.

Fenway Park.

Any outdoor NFL stadium.

The 2028 Olympics In LA.

Not having the 2024 Olympics In Boston.

Masters Sunday.

The U.S. Open at Pebble Beach, The Country Club, Pinehurst No. 2, Shinnecock Hills, Oakmont and Winged Foot.

Chuck & Shaq.

Joe Buck & Troy Aikman.

Mike Breen.

Bob & Zo.

Ryan & Bob.

Grande & Max.

Dave O’Brien.

Sean McDonough.

Two sports talk radio stations in Boston.

Two newspapers in Boston.

ESPN GameDay & NFL Sunday.

Scores of sports-themed websites, podcasts and social media feeds. (Especially the one with Tom Brady clips every day.)

Beat writers who do their jobs.

Columnists who inform, entertain and inspire.

Fans, viewers, readers and listeners who keep everyone honest.

When and where I was born.

The people I am with … in person and spirit.

And all of you.

I’d want it no other way.

Bill Speros (@RealOBF and @BillSperos on ‘X’) can be reached at bsperos1@gmail.com. When he’s not eating turkey or writing here, he is a senior betting analyst at bookies.com.)