The Futility Infielder

See You On the Other Side

I've reached my pitch count. My past three weeks of work have been high-stress, with long hours, longer streams of four-letter words, and a few days of broken A/C during a heatwave thrown in for good measure. It's a perfect recipe for needing a vacation. Fortunately that's what I'm getting as I head to my parents' home in Salt Lake City and then on a four-day backpacking trip in Wyoming.

I've reached my personal pitch count when it comes to baseball's labor situation as well. Day after day of headlines have taken me on a rollercoaster ride of optimism and pessimism, of sound truth and bald-faced lies, of speculation about the playoff races and a harrowing vision of an October without them. When George Steinbrenner begins to sound like the voice of reason, we're through the looking glass here, people.

I'm starting to think Bud Selig's gag rule on owners speaking out about the labor situation was a good idea. The current flaunting of the rule has me gagging every time one of the owners opens his mouth and reveals just how ridiculously stupid the lords of the game can be. Tuesday's New York Times had an article in which San Diego Padres owner John Moores said he's prepared to shut down the game for an entire season to get a deal favorable to the owners. Never mind the fact that Moores' team is slated to move into a new ballpark in 2004, a ballpark which is supposed to produce the kind of revenue stream a small-market team needs to stay afloat, a ballpark which Moores wrung out of the taxpayers at the 11th hour.

Most ridiculously, Moores is quoted as saying, " I'm not going to be a part of a crazy system where we have to keep raising ticket prices." As if ticket prices won't rise upon moving into a new stadium. Over at a weblog called Mike's Baseball Rants, the proprietor cites the price gouging which occurred when the Brewers and Pirates recently moved into new ballparks:

Actually what cause the greatest increase in ticket price are new stadiums. Owners believing that a new stadium is enough of an attraction in and of itself to command a higher fare have increased ticket prices: According to CNN, when the Pirates moved into a new stadium in 2001 the "average ticket price soared 82 percent to $21.48 from $11.80" the previous year and the Milwaukee Brewers also the recipient of a new stadium in 2001 "raised prices by more than half to an average of $18.12 from an average of $11.72." Now those teams are complaining of decreased attendance in the new stadium's second year. What do they expect when the gouge the locals as soon as they open the gate?

Moores isn't alone in shoveling manure. Texas Rangers owner Tom Hicks, speaking about the owners luxury tax proposal, told a Dallas newspaper, "Every team in baseball that has any kind of business sense would try to manage its payroll to stay under that tax threshold. There might be one or two that wouldn't, but that's a decision those teams have to make. Certainly, I can assure you, the Texas Rangers wouldn't be among them. If this system is implemented, the Texas Rangers will be under the threshold."

If ever there were a case for calling bullshit, this is it. This from the man who signed Alex Rodriguez to a 10-year, $252 million dollar contract two winters ago, and who currently has Chan Ho Park at 5 years and $65 million, Juan Gonzalez at 2 years and $24 million, Rusty Greer at 3 years and $21.8 million, Jay Powell at 3 years and $9 million, Jeff Zimmerman at 3 year and $10 million, and an already-picked-up option on Carl Everett for $9.15 million in 2003. Park has been a disaster, with a Boeng-level ERA (7-something). Gonzalez has been a shadow of his former self. Greer is slated for neck and hip surgery and is probably Done. Middle reliever Powell spent the first half of the season on the DL. Closer Zimmerman has undergone Tommy John surgery. A payroll of $131 million for a team 15 games under .500 and 20 games out of first--that's fiscal responsibility for you. As we say around here, have a nice hot cup of Shut the F--- Up, Mr. Hicks.

A Murray Chass article in Thursday's Times speculates that both Hicks and Moores, along with Steinbrenner, are headed for $1 million fines by Selig for violating the gag rule. Chass cites skeptics who think Steinbrenner will be fined more money for being critical of Selig, and those who think His Rugness put Moores and Hicks up to their comments. But he also notes that those comments may actually have played to the players' union's advantage. On Hicks:

In a memo to agents earlier this week, for example, Donald Fehr, the union executive director, cited Hicks's comments as evidence that what the owners really seek with their proposal for a luxury tax on payrolls is a payroll cap, pure and simple.

On Moores:

If there were any softness in the union ranks on the idea of striking, that kind of talk would not further intimidate players but would reinforce their resolve. Players are competitive by nature, and when someone challenges them with incendiary statements, they respond in kind. As usual, the owners are doing Fehr's work for him.

In other quarters, there are some glints of optimism. ESPN's Tim Kurkijian, never my favorite writer, lists five reasons why there won't be a strike, focusing on the bad PR of being on strike September 11 and the fact that the two sides are separated by only a relatively small amount of money on the luxury tax (at last count $33 million, according to Chass.

Over at Baseball Primer, labor lawyer Eugene Freedman points out that the owners have already won by getting the players to agree in principle to increased revenue sharing, a stronger salary tax system, a worldwide draft, and steroid testing. Of course, until the ink is dry, ain't nobody won nuthn'. We've seen plenty of instances in the past where acrimony at the negotiating table has scuttled a deal and taken both parties back to square one.

Wednesday night my friends and I took an informal poll of each other over cold beverages at a New York City bar. 100% of us agreed there would be a strike, with 75% believing that the strike would wipe out the postseason. Today, I'm a little more optimistic. Tomorrow will probably crush that optimism. But for the five days after that, I'll be off the grid somewhere in the Wind Rivers mountain range in western Wyoming, taking in fresh air unbefouled by the likes of Selig, Moores, and Hicks. Since I don't return to civilization until August 30, I'm going to let the two sides take it from here without my help. Close the deal or close the doors.

I'll see you on the other side...