If there were still any doubts that The Wall Street Journal was hurtling into second-tier status among American daily newspapers (not easy to pull off), they were obliterated with its January 16th article about the Los Angeles Dodgers signing free agent Kyle Tucker to an enormous four-year/$240 million contract.
That’s a paraphrase of the Journal’s lead baseball writer Jared Diamond, among the worst in the country—in fairness, WSJ’s Jason Gay remains fairly witty and is a sometimes-read—who, echoing the most stupid commenters on social media about the sport, was hysterical about the Dodgers deal. (If you follow your team’s fortunes on, say, Twitter, it’s nuts how manic-depressive fans are. For example, when the Red Sox lost out on Alex Bregman—thankfully, in my opinion—this year’s season was over. Not long after, when leftie Ranger Suarez was inked to a five-year deal, the playoffs were in the bag!)
Not troubling himself with contacting any sources, Diamond all but guarantees an MLB lockout after the Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA)—which expires on December 1—mostly because of the free-spending Dodgers, who have wealthy ownership, led the Majors in attendance for the past 12 full seasons, employ the most creative and proactive front office in the game, and have won the last two World Series. (Tucker, although a talented player, isn’t a Top 10 superstar, so the fact his contract is so rich merely shows he got lucky.) So what? The sticking point between the players’ union and management is that the former vows it won’t accede to the salary cap that the owners (hardly any of them paupers) insist is necessary.
Diamond (again, no quote from MLBPA executive director Tony Clark) writes: “The players’ union blames other owners for refusing to spend like the Dodgers and has maintained that it won’t agree to a salary cap under any circumstances, raising the specter of a protracted showdown.” I’m a mere fan who simply wants the Boston Red Sox (whose principal owner John Henry is a billionaire) to open his wallet a little bit wider, but as I’ve noted before the odds of a lockout/strike, especially a long one, aren’t certain. Maybe there will be a compromise: a fig leaf of a salary cap, in a tradeoff for a “payroll floor,” aimed at avaricious owners who don’t really care about their team remaining competitive but are happy to accept revenue sharing (and in some cases, wheedling local governments to build them new stadiums on the taxpayers’ dime, a travesty that’s far, far worse than the Dodgers giving Tucker $60 million a year; he can opt out after 2027, but won’t).
I recall, with disgust, the domination of the New York Yankees in the mid-late 1990s (and 2000) when owner George Steinbrenner spent big and won four World Series. Were there cries of “Break Up the Yankees”? Not really, and though I hated their Canyon of Heroes victory parades near my condo in Manhattan at the time, and enjoyed calling them the Evil Empire, the team’s last championship was in 2009. May that “drought” continue.
The Red Sox have won four World Series this century, and the San Francisco Giants have taken three, but neither team was subjected to the verbal and written abuse of the Dodgers—a team I can’t stand, although that pales compared to the Bronx Sometimes Bombers. It so happens that the Dodgers attract Japanese talent, are savvy in marketing the team, and play fair in a free market. As many mention, the Mets’ owner Steve Cohen is the wealthiest in the game, and has spent a lot of money, but his team hasn’t won since 1986.
It’s difficult to predict what’ll happen after ownership and the union trade barbs at the end of this year—and probably into at least January—and there could be a lockout. But I believe—despite the bluster from both sides and sportswriters like Diamond—any dispute will be settled before the 2027 season begins. Baseball fans, already pinched by increasing ticket prices, food and merchandise at the ballpark—aren’t likely to have sympathy for either side. The players (not typical “union” members) aren’t likely to leave money on the table—during a lockout they don’t receive their salary paychecks—and ownership is petrified of a 1994-95 repeat strike, which soured the country on the sport. And again, the money is far more significant today. Will, say, Orioles owner David Rubenstein (another billionaire) be happy when the team’s MASN TV station is quiet? In addition, upcoming (and older) free agents, perhaps looking for their last contract, have no incentive to strike and see their worth go down.
—Follow Russ Smith on Twitter: @MUGGER2023