In the 1934 movie “You’re Telling Me!” W.C. Fields says he “bought a wonderful club in Toronto,” then tells his caddie, “Give me the Canadian Club.”

By the time MLB’s “Players’ Weekend” ended, no elixir was strong enough to clear or further dull the mind of the systemic senselessness.

But MLB never runs low on rotten ideas. It suffers from advanced nearsightedness while self-deluded into practicing the kind of innovative thinking that guarantees a maximum of unintended, unforeseen, ridiculous circumstances. So does the NFL.

Thus, our question for commissioner/marketing genius Rob Manfred:

Given that every game for three consecutive days appeared the same — Johnny Cash and the San Quentin 9 versus the psychiatric facility security detail from the movie “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest” — which game or games did he choose to watch? After all, by design they all looked alike.

The players wore monochromatic white-on-white or black-on-black self-selected nicknames on the backs of their corresponding all-white or all-black monochromatic uniforms, making it impossible to know for sure who many of them were — even if you knew their nicknames, which were mostly inside gags.

Reader Joe Plitnick thinks Gary Sanchez went with “No Sweat.”

Of course, at MLB no one saw this coming. MLB placed everyone in the same clown suit then hit “send” under the full impression and authority that it knows exactly what it’s doing.

So all 44 games over the weekend were played in indecipherable secret code — white ink put to white paper, black ink on black paper. Morons.

Or as the bibulous W.C. Fields said of his African safari: “We forgot the corkscrew. All we had to live on was food and water.”

Kirk devolves toward ’streit lingo

Saturday night’s Miami-Florida game, what a nice start to the big-time college football season, ending with Florida’s 57-year-old band director assaulted by Miami “fans.”

Lead ESPN college analyst Kirk Herbstreit, on how to better protect Miami’s quarterback? “Quick reads and move the launch point.” (Psst, I think he meant throw the ball sooner.)

Herbstreit’s football vocabulary has flipped the past five years, graduating from plain and clear to English-to-Gibberish as taught at the Mike Mayock Institute of Pigskin Latin and Automotive Supplies.

Herbstreit was critical of freshman Miami QB Jarren Williams for his ceaseless sideline showboating after throwing a touchdown pass. Agreed, even if it is the garbage ESPN sells as football.

But the kid’s behavior seemed invited as his all-about-me antics escalated with prompts from ESPN’s multiple sideline camera close-ups.

Do you think of jockeys as athletes?

As seen Saturday on Fox, Code of Honor, the third favorite at 4-1, won the 150th Travers with an expert, almost covert ride by 47-year-old John Velazquez, who rarely fails to demonstrate a chess master’s vision and patience.

Forced to the outside in the final turn Velazquez, running out of time and track, determined to win from there, rushing from well off the pace and nearly out of sight to win by three lengths. To me, he’s a superstar and I didn’t have a nickel invested.

ESPN’s Alex Rodriguez on Sunday night continued to remind us: 1) he talks too much, and 2) he’s full of it.

During Yankees-Dodgers, he reasoned that teams always want an even-numbered lead because a four-run lead means you can’t be beaten by a grand slam.

Reader Mike Riccardo: “I’m no math teacher — actually I am — but by that logic, if you have a three-run lead you should try to allow a run. That sounded odd to me!”

Saturday during Yanks-Dodgers, YES presented a solid feature on the career of Vin Scully.

Included was Scully’s call of the last outs — a double play — of Fernando Valenzuela’s 1990 no-hitter, which concluded with Scully exalting, “If you’re wearing a sombrero, throw it to the sky!”

You likely know where I’m going here. In 2019, would Scully have been denounced as a racist, a promulgator of a negative Mexican stereotype?

Almost every at-bat is feast or famine

Last two games of Yankees-Dodgers were home runs or strikeout slogs, the kind MLB invites as standard.

Saturday: Dodgers win, 2-1. Five total hits, two of them home runs, 22 strikeouts, nine pitchers.

Sunday: 5-1, Yanks. Against eight pitchers, 13 total hits, four HRs, 24 K’s.

Monday, the Mariners struck out 14 times against five Yankees pitchers. Leadoff batter Tim Lopes and second batter J.P. Crawford each struck out three times. Mariners lost, 5-4, but had four hits — two of them home runs.

After Gary Sanchez was again seen jogging a double into a single, Tuesday on YES, Ryan Ruocco and David Cone flatly spoke what none of us could miss. But they said it as if it were either no big deal or an anomaly:

Cone said Sanchez should be at second, then dropped it. Not even a hint that this is how Sanchez plays or a supposition of how often Sanchez has dismissed good advice to continue to play as if he can’t be bothered.

Such disingenuous TV and radio treatment of intelligent listeners — those who can handle indisputable, conspicuous truths without violating their Yankees loyalty oaths and sedition clauses — is insulting.

Reader Bob Martin asks if Ray Lewis will perform in his “infamous but missing white suit” on ABC/Disney’s “Dancing With the Stars.” If so, what’s good for the removal of those stubborn, ground-in blood stains?

Wednesday’s Post reported Robinson Cano has resumed running, “but not at game speed.” If that’s the case, he should slow down.

Last weekend in Houston, former All-Star pitcher John Burkett, now 54, rolled a 247 in the final to win his first PBA Senior title.

Until watching NBC and its percentage-to-make stat/graphics work over the weekend, reader Matt Kane had no idea he’s such a great putter: “If Ricky Fowler and I have the same putt, our percentage to make that putt must be the same.”

Sunday, with a runner on, no out, Mets down 1-0, Juan Lagares bunted the first pitch foul. Rotten idea, said Howie Rose, as Lagares is a rotten bunter. (Who isn’t?) Lagares then grounded into a double play. Rose next deadpanned, “He should’ve bunted.”

ESPN did it again! In the Little League World Series final, it had the international team’s manager wearing a wire — this time Curacao’s — but no one to translate. Thus we very clearly heard what we couldn’t understand!