{image1} We conclude our three-part look this week at who's helped and who's hurt the Milwaukee Brewers as the fallout continues from Ulice Payne's ouster as president of the ball club.
In part one, we examined the role of Payne and the Board of Directors. In part two, we looked at the media, politicians and the fans.
In this concluding report, we'll examine MLB, itself, and its relationship with its players' union and team owners.
Unfortunately, the outlook isn't very rosy. Many are tired of hearing about the plight of the small market team, but the fact remains that the baseball divide between cities like New York and Milwaukee is so wide that the odds stacked against teams like the Brewers may be insurmountable.
MLB:
It's been said that Major League Baseball is the most widely successful troubled industry in the United States. In essence, it is its best worst enemy.
While its overall popularity continues to grow on the continents of Europe, Asia, Australia and South America, its struggles persist on the home front.
Like many business problems, money is the underlining cause of its dilemma. In an industry that relies heavily on its competition, an odd formula for success, MLB is a divided entity onto itself. The haves and the have-nots. Big versus small markets. Deep-pocketed conglomerates versus ma and pa operations, like the Seligs and their business partners.
Unlike the National Football League where the Green Bay Packers survive in harmony with the New York Giants, MLB is defined by it markets.
In 2003, only 20 percent of club's had a payroll in excess of $100 million while 10 percent had payrolls under $50 million. The top paying franchise, the New York Yankees, spent more than the sum of the entire bottom tier teams.
Based on a luxury tax scale established in the new labor contracts, the Yankees were the only team above the $117 million threshold making a substantial contribution to help offset the differences.
This is baseball's version of parity.
Of the 827 major league players on team rosters in 2003, 368 or nearly 45 percent, earn more than one million dollars per season. Twenty of those players were on the Yankees roster while just two represented the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. The Milwaukee Brewers had nine players.
Breaking it down further, 138 of those millionaire players earned more than $5 million per season, and of that total, 84 earned more than $8 million. The Yankees had 14 over $5 million, including seven over $8 million. Milwaukee squeezed out three over $5 million and just one over $8 million in Jeffery Hammonds, and now he's gone.
Of course, the argument could be made that the Florida Marlins, a marginal small-market team (though based in Miami) won the World Championship with only 16 million-dollar players, of which just one made over $5 million.
What's at the root of baseball's woes? Like bookends, polarized by their versions of free enterprise, are the owners and the union, the latter the most powerful in the world. Joining both ends are fans, which act like a frayed rope between two powers in a capitalist tug-of-war. At some point that lifeline will break and corporate America will be the only season ticket holder.
Many fans bent on the sport's traditions lived during baseball's heydays of the 1950s. They remember a time when players identified with fans. Those players actually had to work during the off-season. These are the fans screaming for fiscal responsibility. They see rising salaries, rising ticket prices and rising concession prices as detrimental to the game.
Others of the modern mindset don't care necessarily about traditions as long as their team fields a winner, almost, at any cost. They don't necessarily like higher prices but they understand that to get star players, a team must spend.
Then there is the casual fan, a steadily growing population that gains membership from both ends of supporters. They believe in contradictions, spend but don't spend. "Win or I'll find something else to do." As this demographic grows Baseball's luster as America's favorite pastime dulls.
When clubs look to contend, two methods are used. Gamble today and worry tomorrow, or gamble tomorrow and suffer today. It's either pay for free agents or groom young prospects. Many teams try to blend both worlds to stay competitive, but it seems as though the contenders take the risks.
It's a catch-22 situation and only the owners who are looked upon as cash cows can play both sides of the fence. Small market teams take baby steps while large market teams leap before they look.
How MLB has helped the Brewers: Finally, the rich owners have agreed to some revenue sharing with the poor owners. That should help even the playfield, but not by much. Baseball has also kept even unprofitable teams from leaving town. Even the Expos are still in business in Montreal, so don't expect the Brewers to flee Milwaukee any time soon.
How MLB has hurt the Brewers: It's lost touch of the way Americans enjoy sports and seek entertainment. If professional wrestling is getting more popular and the nation's pastime is in decline, then some one is doing something wrong. Interleague play, shortening games and devising other minor ploys to get the casual fan back into the game are simply not enough. To Milwaukee fans, a losing club without any money to spend on improving itself, is a self-defeating proposition.
Finally, the influence of TV money, especially on the local market levels, is still one reason Milwaukee will always be hurting. Unlike other markets, Milwaukee has fish to our east, rural to the west and north and Chicago, with two teams, to the south. Milwaukee might be the worst TV market in pro sports.
The Players' Union:
{image2} As for the players' union, it uses its membership as pawns in a chess match it seems to always master.
Unlike real life, players' salaries never decline. Each is measured against the best at their respective position. If player A, a shortstop, has a fantastic season, every one of his peers will benefit because the union and the player's agent compare player B to A and where he should fit on that scale. Player C will relate to B and so on. Upward and onward the numbers climb. As long as baseball doesn't cap salaries, the sky's the limit.
That's why a utility player today makes more money than a superstar did 20 years ago. That's why the minimum salary today is $300,000 compared to $38,000, 20 years ago.
Warning signs began flashing more than a decade ago when player's salaries jumped by the millions rather than thousands of dollars. It's no coincidence that prior to 1990 only one time had there been a work stoppage (1972), however, since then there were three with two others averted in the 11th hour of negotiations. Each time, the union made significant gains while owners let their own greed prevented any stemming of the tide.
Only after 1994 had large market owners truly come to grips with the monster they had created. And only in the last labor contract have both sides address the need to bail out small markets.
It could be too little too late.
How the Players' Union has helped the Brewers: That's a tough one. Call it grasping for straws, but the union finally agreed to limited steroid testing, a policy in place in every other sport. It's one very small step toward rebuilding a connection between players and the fans.
How the Players' Union has hurt the Brewers: They've fought salary caps tooth and nail, assuring that Milwaukee won't ever be able to afford a team with multiple players like Richie Sexson or Geoff Jenkins. Its attitude on salaries has turned the Brewers into a farm club for teams like the Yankees or the Diamondbacks. Its stance on seemingly everything that's "good for the game" has made sure the Brewers don't stand a chance at winning a championship through conventional means.
- Gregg Hoffmann, Jeff Sherman, Bobby Tanzilo, Andy Tarnoff and Mario Ziino contributed to this report.
