Major League Baseball seems to be in fine shape, no?
Witness the record contracts tossed about this past week to Stephen Strasburg, Gerrit Cole and Anthony Rendon, perhaps to be topped again by next year’s free agent class of dazzling diamond dandies.
So why do I fear for the future of professional baseball? It’s certainly not the mega-millions thrown about to the stars. They’ve earned it. Hey, they still make less than Judge Judy.
I’m worried because of the guy in charge, Rob Manfred. Now, Rob Manfred is a very intelligent man. He’s the commissioner of Major League Baseball, for crying out loud. Trouble is, some other very intelligent people are literally crying out loud right now because of Rob Manfred, who is going out of his way to kill baseball in 42 cities. And, believe me, he’s just getting started.
Some background: the MLB and its agreement with Minor League Baseball expires on Sept. 30, 2020 and Manfred is trying to eliminate four leagues: the Appalachian, New York-Penn, Northwest and Pioneer. The 42 teams — out of 160, or just over one-fourth of the minor league baseball — would lose their MLB affiliation and all monies paid out to cover player salaries, benefits, medical care, etc. Affiliates on the chopping block nearest Wheeling include the West Virginia Power (Charleston), Hagerstown Suns, Bluefield Blue Jays, and Princeton Rays.
Manfred has proposed what he calls a “Dream League” of the dispatched teams into an independent existence, similar to our local Washington Wild Things team, but that plan is a steaming pile of horse manure, and he knows it. The crippling cashflow conundrum for such a plan is a deal-breaker, but the logistics of travel alone are enough to make this “Dream” nonsensical.
So why this problem, and why now? Minor League baseball is strong, drawing over 40 million-plus fans for 15 straight seasons, trending up 2.6 percent this past year. No doubt it has to do with the recent ruckus over the embarrassingly low pay for minor league players: approximately $12-14K per year, or as low as $8K for the lower levels (Class A and rookie ball). So, this must be MLB’s answer: Pay a livable wage but pay less players. It’s always about the money, and this is all about the owners of 30 MLB teams keeping as much of it as possible.
But the ramifications are stark: The loss of around 1,000 jobs for players is just the beginning. Also gone are jobs for umpires, front office personnel, coaches, clubhouse and ticket office folks, concessions, security, merchandise shops, local eateries, hotels, etc.
And the culture of fandom for a town? Is there a dollar figure for that?
The Pioneer League, for example, consists largely of teams in Montana, Idaho and Wyoming. A fan from Billings, Montana would have to drive seven or eight hours for their closest MLB game (Colorado Rockies). You’re going to lose touch with a lot of young fans who are excited by their first brush with pro baseball. A guy on Twitter recalled a game in Las Vegas: “I was a wee lad, and a guy named John Kruk comes to the plate with a batting average of .365 or something gnarly. I ask my mom if that’s good. She says it is. I say he’s going to hit a homer. He does. I’m instantly insane for baseball forever after that.”
Closer to home: My son retrieved a home run ball at a Washington Wild Things game and got the hitter to sign it afterwards. Then we walked over and met and shook hands with Wild Thing pitcher Justin Edwards, from Wheeling. It was wonderful.
And while minor league baseball is strong, MLB is taking a hit. Attendance is down, and even hard-core fans are fed up with the growing inequities between big market and small market cities, along with issues like teams tanking to rebuild (some seemingly forever), and prices for a night at the ballpark.
So, where does this cash for the big-ticket players come from? Television, of course. The owners are less concerned than ever about butts in the seats. It’s all about eyes on the tube. But nobody is looking at the big picture: Where are tomorrow’s eyes on the tube coming from? Manfred and the owners are pushing away the young fans, and either don’t see that or just don’t care. But they will.
It’s abundantly clear that Manfred and his fiefdom of filthy rich are ramrodding this plan home. The towns that will lose their team are fighting back, threatening lawsuits based on the money that has built ballparks on tax-payer money. The owners of the lost MiLB teams, in fact, will lose an estimated $300 million in equity if this goes down. Gone. Just gone. This won’t be pretty.
Frustrated, MiLB president Pat O’Conner went public this week, responding to Manfred’s rigid non-negotiation tactics by appealing to the public. Politicians are getting in involved, and this is one issue that could actually forge ahead in bipartisan fashion, against MLB.
But, again, Manfred is non-deterred. It’s his ball, and he’ll take it home if he doesn’t get his way. He responded Friday by threatening to completely gut minor league baseball. MLB will form its own minor league and play games at spring training diamonds and college stadiums, thereby further pulling pro ball away from fans across the country.
This business model is so convoluted that you figure somebody will come up with a sensible compromise, but the way Rob Manfred is digging in his heels, I’m starting to wonder. And what will Rob Manfred’s legacy be some 25-30 years down the road?
Pro baseball is at a crossroads, folks. Yogi Berra once said, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.” And I’m not sure Rob Manfred is going to take it, and it’s a forking shame.
