Mickey and the Duke

It's not too far a stretch to say that as youngsters, most sports fans dreamed not of quarterback or point guard, but of center fielder. Baseball used to be the sport of choice. Period.

Recently, however, this has not been the case. In 1989, Sports Illustrated had Magic Johnson, Joe Montana, and Wayne Gretzky on its cover with a headline proclaiming that these three athletes dominated the 1980s.

What was missing from that cover, of course, was a baseball player. Not that evidence needs to be marshalled to prove that baseball no longer holds the top place in the pantheon of sport--just ask any fourth grader who he wants to be like, and after Jordan, Barkley, Shaq, a couple of football or hockey players, and maybe even a random tennis player, the nine-year-old might say Ken Griffey, Jr. or Barry Bonds or another diamond king. (Maybe this example is a slight exaggeration, but I believe it's substantively true.)

And all this was true even before the current strike--which is now in its eighth month with little hope of resolution in the near future. (It has been reported that both parties are now referring to an opening day with replacement players in the past tense.)

The shame of it all is all too transparent. Beyond even the personal affinity a lot of people have for baseball--Which Bob Costas typified when he said in Ken Burns' documentary "Baseball" that sadly, he and his father had absolutely nothing in common except baseball. Baseball has been the leading sport concerning larger matters of social importance.

Jackie Robinson was the athlete who broke American professional sports' color barrier, and his dignity crystallized the injustice of segregation. Curt Flood's 1969 challenge of the reserve clause (under which the team reserves the sole right to negotiate with a player for the following year(s)), although ultimately unsuccessful, was a revolutionary step in the direction of player freedom.

And speaking of free agency, Andy Messersmith's and Pat McNally's successful suit against the reserve clause ushered in free agency in baseball--a first for American sports. (To be precise, their case was never decided, because, realizing that they held an untenable position, the owners agreed to a new collective bargaining agreement that allowed players with six or more years of experience to sign with another club without requiring the new club to compensate the old one.)

These labor developments in baseball revolutionized American professional sports. Now, all the major sports leagues have some kind of free agency, and the almost indentured-servant type conditions that used to be the norm in player-team relationships are just a vague memory to today's athletes--in large part because of baseball.

As is inevitable with all visionaries, however, the baseball players' union has lost its Florence Nightingale-like image. Reluctance to adopt a salary cap (which the more "progressive" NBA adopted long ago), exorbitant salaries (an average of over $1 million in 1993), and a lack of team continuity are but a few of the evils seemingly brought about by the players' union hard-line stance.

But these youthful concerns about the dignity of baseball did not hold much corn when the owners were willing to pay the players lots of money. Baseball attendance has increased throughout the 1980s and early 1990s and the game, at least in raw, unsentimental, cash-generated terms, was more popular than ever the day before this current strike. (August 18, 1994, to be exact.)

Now, the owners have most of the leverage. The owners claimed that they would have lost more money playing the 1995 season under the old collective bargaining agreement than they will lose playing with replacement players, so they have very little incentive to settle without substantial concessions from the players.

And the National Labor Relations Board has about as much of a chance as settling this dispute as Clinton had with implementing his health care plan.

So the money here is that around mid-May, the players will start crossing the picket line, and like the NFL in 1987, a new collective bargaining agreement to the owner's liking--i.e. one with a meaningful salary cap--will be crafted. The owners will then claim that the new agreement will allow small market teams--who supposedly, in the present system, cannot afford to pay top players--to compete with big market teams.

To be sure, because of their history, baseball players feel more loyalty to their union than football players felt to their's. But baseball players only play in the majors for around five years on average, and will probably not want to risk losing many more months pay.

In my mind, this result would be unfair, because since 1976--when free agency was implemented--city size has not been significantly correlated with winning. (In other words, large city teams have not been more successful than small city teams.)

Moreover, from 1987-1992, larger payrolls have not led to greater success. Finally, many studies have indicated that since the advent of free agency, baseball has actually gotten more competitive overall.

All these results strongly suggest that, contrary to the owners' contentions, small market teams have not been decisively impaired by the current free-agent system.

These results seem to square with many people's sense of the game recently. Baseball did not have a repeat champion after 1977 until 1993, and last year's best team (the Montreal Expos) had one of the smallest payrolls.

Perhaps one of the reasons that no baseball player made that 1989 cover of Sports Illustrated was that no team dominated the 1980s as the Lakers, 49ers, or Oilers did in their respective sports. Parity was the rule on the diamond.

This is not to say that baseball isn't flawed in many ways. It does suggest, however, that while the players seem to be in the weaker negotiating position, the gains that they have made should not be repealed in the name of competitive balance and rising salaries. While having players play their whole careers with one team seems ideal, this type of realty should not be imposed.

I am not arguing that small-market teams that are bound to lose money under the current system should not be given relief. But what I am saying is that the owners have overstated the problem, and because of the unequal footing in negotiations, they will be able to force an inequitable solution.

And while any end to this strike would be welcome, we still should realize that the millionaire players are more in the right than the multimillionaire owners.