Last month, in the Los Angeles Dodgers’ final game of spring training, a pool of sewage appeared on the team’s field in Chavez Ravine. The odor was so foul—also literally in foul territory—that the game was cut short in the fifth inning. The Dodgers officially earned the victory over their crosstown rivals, the Angels, but the result was hardly satisfying. “Crappy way to end the spring,” quipped pitcher Ross Stripling.

In a statement the next day, Dodgers management vaguely cited “issues with the drainage system” and said the team was “confident that there will be no further issues.” The season began as planned. Last week, the Dodgers announced that they will host the 2020 All-Star Game. The rancid pool has not returned—yet.

This is exactly how America more broadly has dealt with its poop problem for decades: wait for spills to happen, clean it up, and go on with life. But America’s infrastructure is getting older and leakier; metropolitan-area populations are booming; and climate change is causing bigger rainfall events that more frequently overwhelm decaying sewers. Wastewater contaminated with dangerous microbial bacteria—not to mention nutrients, metals, and pharmaceuticals—is increasingly overflowing into streets and bodies of water.

In response, the Environmental Protection Agency announced on Tuesday that it will be developing new rules for wastewater treatment plants during rain and snow storms. The goal, the EPA said, is to “optimize wastewater treatment during wet weather, which will protect both water quality and public health in the communities they serve.” Which sounds reasonable enough. What the EPA doesn’t explicitly say is that it’s exploring a rule to allow treatment plants to release sewage that hasn’t been fully decontaminated.

This is not the first time a Republican administration has considered allowing it. If the past is any indication, environmentalists have a messy fight on their hands—one they already fought, and won, more than a decade ago.