I was saddened by the passing of Ted Williams. Despite the unfortunate circus created by his family, the majestic presence of this baseball icon cannot be diminished. I missed his greatest years, as I was only seven when he powered the last pitch he saw through a gray mist and into the stands of fabled Fenway Park.
My boyhood was framed around the final years of Musial (my personal favorite) and some of the best of Mantle, Mays, Aaron, Koufax, Gibson, Rose, Killebrew, Clemente, Kaline, and Robinson (Frank and Brooks). It was the era prior to free agency, when even a superstar and household name was lucky to earn a six-figure salary and many players had to have another job during the winter to make ends meet.
As in many other sectors, the advent of organized labor and competition for talent has led to much higher levels of compensation, with multi-year contracts in the hundreds of millions of dollars becoming ever more common. At the same time, profits to the major league teams have risen and even minor league games are enjoying increased popularity.
As is also the case in other industries, however, the strife between labor and management has threatened the very viability of the system that brings prosperity to all sides. At present, there seems to be little hope of avoiding a work stoppage. The last one, in 1994, had a devastating effect on the game, with its comeback in the past few years being tied largely to individual achievements which captured the imagination—Cal Ripkin, Jr.’s quest for “Iron Man” immortality and the 1998 home run race that at times even managed to knock Bill and Monica out of the headlines.
Such events cannot be counted on to repeat themselves, and the timing of the current dispute could not be worse. Part of the unique appeal of the “National Pastime” is its link to heritage and patriotism. Ted Williams a war hero; Jackie Robinson a major figure in the quest for human dignity and equality; Babe Ruth the hope of America through the Great Depression. Even the national anthem first gained popularity at a World Series. The prospect of not playing on the anniversary of September 11 and potentially canceling a World Series a month later is not pretty.
People are gravely concerned with an apparent level of greed which led many major corporations to improperly represent their performance. This issue is dominating political and economic discussion at present, with many worried about the future of their lifetime savings and retirement security. Against this backdrop, there is likely to be little sympathy for owners and players in what is essentially a dispute between multi-millionaires and billionaires over how to carve up the monies provided by and large by folks of far less means. To top it off, the All-Star Game ended in a tie because the best (and most highly compensated) in the game were unwilling to play long enough to allow the game to be finished (14 pitchers appeared for 1 inning or less). In a twist of irony and a sign of the times, the Most Valuable Player Award was named in honor of Ted Williams, yet couldn’t be bestowed on any of the players in this “non-game.” Williams, Musial, and company often played the entire All-Star Game, with Stan the Man (who played in more than 20 of them) once ending it with a 12th inning home run.
One of the issues confronting the equity markets at present is the tendency for corporations to overemphasize short-term stock price movements at the cost of long-range prosperity. We have seen that phenomenon in spades in recent months. Baseball is in danger of a similar error. There are legitimate issues to be resolved (including franchise inequities between large and small media markets), but a work stoppage at this time may well dramatically shrink the pie from which the various slices are obtained. Although it won’t be easy, these matters can be worked out while the game goes on.
Although I’ve never been a big fan of umpires, one of their classic quotes is appropriate to this situation. “Play Ball!”