Yesterday's Players As Flawed As
Today's
May wasn’t a good month for the Professional Geezers. The
month’s top baseball stories included an ugly brawl between
the Yankees and Orioles; Wayne Huizenga’s continued
dismantling of the world champion Marlins; and Mike
Piazza’s demand for baseball’s first $100 million
contract. The Geezers reacted as they always do, filling the
newspapers and airwaves with their laments.
“Baseball’s going to hell,” they cried. (At
this point, some Geezers reflexively complained about modern
music, TV, movies, fashion, morals, and education, too.)
“What happened to the good old days, when players loved the
game so much they’d have played for free? Remember when
baseball players were all role models I would be proud to have my
children emulate?”
Well, no. And neither do the Geezers. Literally no one alive
today can accurately recall such an era. Looking back through the
rose-colored glasses of Geezerdom yields a distorted image of a
world that never was.
By 1884, the Spalding Guide was already protesting: “Within
the past year or two this salary question has passed far beyond
the bounds of a reasonable remuneration for professional services
on the ball fields, to the region of exorbitant demands, which,
if complied with, would eventually bankrupt the strongest company
in the professional arena.” The poor owners’ only
defense was the reserve rule, which “simply places a
barrier to the reckless competition for the services of men who,
outside of the ball field, could not earn a tenth part of the sum
they demand for base ball services.”
Sound familiar?
Yesterday’s players were just as “greedy” as
their modern counterparts. “Greed,” in the context of
baseball salaries, seems to mean “demanding a market
wage,” something the players of old could never obtain
because of the reserve rule. But when a new “major
league” came upon the scene, ignoring the reserve rule,
old-time players eagerly used the competitor to extract higher
salaries.
The American League began as an “outlaw” league. In
its first two seasons, the AL induced dozens of established
National Leaguers to ignore the reserve rule. Future Hall of
Famers, including Cy Young, Nap Lajoie. Ed Delahanty, and John
McGraw, led the stampede to the junior circuit. A decade later,
the Federal League folded after two years, but not before Cub
legends Joe Tinker and Three Finger Brown wore its uniform. Even
the great Walter Johnson was lured away from the Washington
Senators, though Johnson returned to the Senators (for a
substantial raise) before playing a Federal League game.
These players were doing exactly the same thing Roger Clemens
did, Mo Vaughn might do, and you and I do when we look for a job:
find out what we’re worth on the open market before
deciding where to work. Today’s players aren’t always
out for the biggest paycheck, either: Terry Steinbach and Paul
Molitor spurned higher offers to sign with their hometown
Minnesota Twins, and Greg Maddux joined the Braves as a free
agent for millions less than the Yankees had offered.
The systematic dismantling of the Marlins has its precedents,
too. Connie Mack sold off the cream of two dynasties -- 1911-14
and 1929-31 – when he thought the players were earning more
than he could afford to pay. Charlie Finley tried to sell off his
mid-1970s Oakland juggernaut before losing the players to free
agency. And does the name Harry Frazee ring a bell?
Many of today’s superstars, such as Nomar Garciaparra, Greg
Maddux and Tony Gwynn, are as admirable as the Yastrzemskis,
Musials and Mathewsons of the past. Others are perceived to be
selfish troublemakers. But many baseball legends had character
flaws that make Gary Sheffield look like Cal Ripken by
comparison. Ty Cobb was a vicious racist who once jumped into the
stands during a game to attack a crippled heckler. Tris Speaker
belonged to the Ku Klux Klan. Babe Ruth violated the Prohibition
laws a dozen times a day and patronized a bordello-ful of
prostitutes in a single night. Ted Williams spit at his home
fans. Mickey Mantle was an alcoholic; Pete Rose, a compulsive
gambler. Rogers Hornsby was so hard to get along with that at the
height of his career, the NL’s best player was traded three
times in three years.
Hall of Famers all, at least on the diamond. But they were also
human beings, flawed like the rest of us. With time, Roberto
Alomar will be remembered for his hitting, not his spitting --
and with time, later generations of Professional Geezers will
point to the 1990s, the era of Bonds, Thomas, Maddux and Piazza,
as baseball’s Golden Age.
Copyright © 1998 Doug Pappas. All rights
reserved.
Originally published in the June 1998 issue of Boston
Baseball.
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