Why I Don't Really Like Baseball Anymore

For years, I was a huge baseball fan. More than any other sport, baseball has a robust history, and it was my sport of choice growing up.

Today, while I still appreciate the history and lore of the game, it’s nearly impossible for me to root for a team (or even watch a game on TV) anymore. I still enjoy going to games – minor league games more than professional; but that’s consistent with my overall sports interests (I prefer college basketball to pro basketball; college football to pro football, etc.).

And, this past week, a number of situations arose that caused me to become even more disillusioned with the sport. But, that got me thinking – what were the steps that started my fractured relationship?

Free agency – all sports have this, but baseball started it and is the worst culprit. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t necessarily have a problem with players moving teams, from a business-viewer perspective (i.e., the reserve clause probably WAS illegal on some levels). But, as a fan, I long for the days when players spent their entire careers with one or two teams. And, those days are long gone – there are but a handful of players who will do that (and, all too often, the loyalty isn’t returned by the team, either…)

But, even more than the loss of a player spending his career with one team (I mean, how do you root for a “team” when the roster makeup changes by 50-60 percent each year?), the impact really hit home when it came to money. Obviously, if you’re going to woo someone to play for your team, it’ll cost you, and the salaries in baseball (and all sports, admittedly) have increased at a pace that dwarfs any business in America. And, who gets to pick up the slack? The fans, of course.

Strike – I wasn’t even a teenager for the 1981 strike, which lasted 50 days. But I was a young adult for the 1994-95 strike, which really drove a strike through my heart. If I had to point to ONE situation that had caused me to fall out-of-love with baseball, it would be the 94-95 strike, which devastated the sport (even more than the steroids scandal, which, in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t even enter this list).

It’s reminiscent of how I was feeling last year, while I was looking for work. I decided, although I could do my job for ANY company, it was important for me to work for a company with a cause/mission/principal I could get behind. This came to a head when Cablevision began its litany of assaults on Scripps, causing viewers to miss many shows (same thing that happened with ABC and FOX). And, each time, Cablevision’s PR department had to craft message after message to show that they, in fact, weren’t the villains. It was all the other person’s fault. The viewers were the only losers. And, I thought to myself, how dismal it must be to come to work each day and craft passive-aggressive messages over what amounts to pennies.

And that brings us to this past week – first, the All-Star Game (being held tonight). A few years ago, the All-Star Game was revealed for its true purpose – effectively nothing – when a tie game was left as a tie, for the first time in history. The following year, the commissioner decided the winner of the All-Star Game would earn home-field advantage in the World Series. Now, the All-Star Game isn’t the festival it was when I was younger (interleague play killed that, too, which probably deserves its own entry here, but, quite honestly, I was disillusioned before that), but no fewer than 16 players – four from the NY area -- banged in “hurt” for the game (Mariano Rivera, Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Jose Reyes – the batters were actually voted as starters by the fans).

Again, the fans suffer.

But, the coup de grâce was this past weekend’s complete mishandling of Derek Jeter’s pursuit of 3000 hits.

The game on Friday evening was rained out – unfortunate, and certainly something that happens in July.

The game COULD have been rescheduled as a straight double-header (e.g., fans come in for the first game and stick around for the second) simply by the Yankees saying, “this is what we want to do.” The opposing team would have no say in that decision.

However, the Yankees decided, instead, to propose a split double-header, where the teams play one game; the stadium empties, and then fans are re-admitted for a second game in the evening. They did need the Devil Rays’ consent for this, which the Tampa team did not grant.

On the surface, this seems almost sensible – why have the teams play back-to-back when they could rest for an hour or two in between. But, the Yankees were quick to squash that misperception:

When asked why the Yankees chose not to play a straight doubleheader Saturday, general manager Brian Cashman said: "Gate. We're not interested in losing, going from 81 home games to 80."

Wow. So, once again, it all comes back to money. Doesn’t it always? So much for Ernie Banks’ great mantra – “Let’s Play Two!” and so much for the days of Ty Cobb, Nap Lajoie and Honus Wagner where they played each day because they had a calling and they thoroughly enjoyed the sport. The idea of sitting out a game – an all-star game, or even a “meaningless” regular season game, never occurred to those players, lest they end up like Wally Pipp.

Yes, a great deal of that mindset had to do with the fact that there was no free agency (as we covered before) and perhaps that bordered on the illegal from a business sense; but I’d fully support a move where players weren’t motivated to head to a team due to money; but rather, because a team was the best fit or offered the best chance for that player to succeed or win.

It’s not unprecedented; Greg Maddux did that in 1992, signing for $6 million less with Atlanta instead of choosing to play for the Yankees. "Greg, above all, wanted to win," said his agent, Scott Boras. “The Braves offered him the most substantial degree of assurance of taking the World Series.”

And, while that didn’t turn out the way Maddux had planned, entirely, the Braves did make three World Series during his tenure (half as many as the Yankees – but the Yankees of 1996 were a markedly different team than the one of 1992, when Maddux made his decision).

In the end, I’ll probably content myself with reading the history, playing Strat-O-Matic (where contracts and contentious negotiations don’t enter into the equation) and avoiding the game today – it’s far more interesting in the rearview mirror.