COLUMN: In the Spirit of the Game

From Peter Morrison's "Think For Yourself," Fall '95 From Peter Morrison's "Think For Yourself," Fall '95 Major League Baseball is in the middle of a strike. But this strike cannot be called a "baseball" strike. It is a strike over money and politics, neither of which has much to do with baseball. Baseball is not George Steinbrenner and Bud Selig. It is Willie Mays, Roberto Clemente, Cal Ripkin and Mike Schmidt. Baseball is about the slider and the intentional walk, the bullpen and the dugout, the seeing eye single stretched into a double, or the relay throw from right-center field to tag the runner at the plate. This is what the spirit of baseball is about. The owners have lost sight of the game itself. The balance sheets and the profit margins have blinded these businessmen. They have forgotten about the quality of the product, the nature and history of the game. Maybe Marge Schott should ask Bucky Dent, an average, contact hitter who may have batted about .260 lifetime, what it felt like to hit an inspiring home run to beat the Yankees arch rival, the Boston Red Sox, in a one-game playoff. Or maybe Richard Jacob should ask Joe Carter how it felt to win the world series for the Toronto Blue Jays by hitting a Mitch Williams' offering that still hasn't landed yet. But more importantly maybe any one of the other owners should ask a seven-year-old why he understands the concepts of bonus clauses and revenue sharing but can barely hit a baseball off a tee yet. Yes, the owners are in baseball for the profit, but unless they get in touch with the game itself, they will tarnish the sport forever. Already young players are becoming disillusioned with the country's most historic sport and long-time fans are saying they don't want to take it anymore. Make no mistake, the owners are to blame. The current strike hinges on the salary cap issue. The owners say they need a cap as protection from themselves. They say they fear escalating salaries. They say that a salary cap will allow a small market team like the Milwaukee Brewers to compete for the same free agent players as a large market team like the New York Yankees. The owners' reasoning is both flawed and self-serving. The owners want a salary cap to avoid escalating salaries. But, make no mistake about it, these salaries are high because the owners agreed to pay them in the first place. The owners spent millions of dollars to hire high-priced superstar free agents and want to punish the players after realizing their mistake. Baseball players have a skill, and the market should determine how much management should pay for that skill based on the forces of supply and demand. If the owners say baseball is a business, then pay the players what they are worth in a competitive business market. The salary cap is not an option. The owners must realize that viable options exist, which will keep the game competitive and avoid a salary cap. The solution comes in the form of increased revenue sharing among the teams. Currently all the teams pool a certain percentage of revenues and redistribute them to the economically weaker teams like the Milwaukee Brewers or Pittsburgh Pirates. Rather than the salary cap, the owners need only to increase this shared percentage. This would bolster the financial position of the small market teams so they could compete for high-priced players and at the same time, it would avoid a salary cap. But the owners will never consider this option because they are self-concerned and driven by greed and money. The revenue-sharing option is not possible for the owners because the big-market teams, quite frankly, do not want to share. The Steinbrenners of the league do not want to give any more money than they have to, regardless of whether it is better for the game. What the owners fail to realize is that more revenue sharing will produce the same competitive league that a salary cap will produce. But the advantages of revenue sharing are endless. Revenue sharing will avoid an even further prolonged labor dispute -- a dispute that has left fans and players disillusioned with the game. Improved labor-management ties and a more competitive league will spur interest in the sport and restore its credibility. Higher demand will lead to increased ticket sales and will allow owners to increase future television revenues. The owners fail to realize that their individual rationality (implementing a salary cap) will lead to a less popular sport full of labor disputes, while collective rationality (choosing an option other than the cap) will lead to more satisfied players and happier fans. The end of the strike without a salary cap will still accomplish the task of competitive baseball and financially sound teams. Players will not be restricted and fans will regain faith in a sport that is now more associated with mediators and attorneys than ball boys and bullpen catchers. Or the owners can watch the sport decline. They can watch the seven- year-olds turn to basketball or football instead. They can watch the former baseball fans turn to hockey or basketball. They can watch their financial success plummet along with baseball's history and reputation. The owners must realize that decisions made for the good of the game are not necessarily at odds with the good of their business. Their businesses' success is primarily based on the popularity of the game. And this is what they have lost sight of. Right now, they are seeing only the totals on finance reports rather than the totals in the box score. The owners need to realize that baseball itself is literally a diamond, and the teams that grace that diamond are the most precious things they own. So, a word of advice to Bud Selig and colleagues: reacquaint yourself with the game you control. Go sit next to the bleacher bums during a game. Go watch a 19-year-old struggle in triple A ball. Then realize that the game is the product you're selling. And in order to be successful, it is the spirit of this game you must preserve. You must remember how truly talented an individual must be to hit a ball a few inches in diameter 400 feet with a wooden stick after it has been thrown at you over 90 miles per hour. You must remember how New Yorkers used to fight over who the best centerfielder was in the Big Apple -- Mays, Mantle or Snyder. You must picture that seven-year-old child. Until the owners reach this conclusion for themselves, baseball will continue to bear the consequences. Anybody got Bucky Dent's number?