The Milwaukee Brewers are in trouble. Anger is boiling over among fans, journalists, state legislators and -- now that ex-Gov. Tommy Thompson has voiced his opinion -- even the Bush administration, an enemy you don't necessarily want to make. Bud Selig: coming to an underground cave near you.
And I guess I'm as angry as the next hoodwinked Brew Crew backer. Every longtime Brewers fan I know allowed themselves to get a bit carried away with 2003's 68-win season, a catastrophe for most franchises, a beacon of hope in this downtrodden baseball burg. But next year's hope is quickly being drowned in the type of discontent formerly reserved for scapegoats like Sal Bando, Jerry Royster and Ruben Quevedo.
What the hell just happened? Saturday, news of team's probable 25 percent payroll reduction (from around $40 million to $30 million in 2004) broke, an unpleasant thought but hardly a surprising one. Reports of imminent payroll cuts had been steady and progressive since at least August, and most fans were already coming to grips with the inevitable trade/salary dump of Richie Sexson. So why the mid-November firestorm?
An accumulation of small cuts has finally begun to hemorrhage. Brewers fans are mad as hell, and they aren't going to take it anymore. Not again, we seem to be saying. We will not sit idly by and allow you to carve out the heart of a growing team, leaving us with Junior Spiveys, Lyle Overbays, and other associated D-Backs minutiae in return.
As difficult as trading Sexson might be to stomach, I admit to seeing the painful logic behind such a deal. In today's baseball world, not even the Yankees are rushing to spend money this offseason, and preemptive trades of team stars for financial reasons are more commonly discussed than earned run averages or runs batted in (see Chicago's decision to peddle Magglio Ordonez for evidence). And Sexson will almost certainly leave for nothing after next season.
Unique in this scenario, however, is the discord within the executive ranks. Doug Melvin, apparently the only man in the organization familiar with the concept of public relations, says he hasn't been specifically told to deal Sexson or fellow All-Star Geoff Jenkins. Team president Ulice Payne, Jr., the newly beloved, revivalist face of the franchise, says payroll limitations could prohibit the team from rebuilding ó despite the fact he allegedly signed off on the recommendation. Payne subordinates Rick Schlesinger and Robert J. Quinn assert Payne was on board with the decisions, and that his public pronouncements to the contrary are "a legitimate question for Ulice."
And, meanwhile, Selig is silent.
Clearly, a private power struggle has splashed down into public view, and Payne appears intent to extricate himself from the situation by any means necessary. Unable to court investors wary of being stuck under Selig's thumb, the peppy prez needed only a year to figure out his time would be best spent elsewhere. And if his intention was to stay and fight for the fans' right to a better ballclub in the immediate future, Payne fell prey to an executive board that didn't share his enthusiasm for a quick turnaround.
Now, local politicos eager to cash in on voter anger and a crappy win-loss record are rushing to denounce the payroll cuts. Thanks, but where were you when Jeff Cirillo got traded for Jimmy Haynes? Miller Park is already standing, and the taxes used to pay off the bills will be collected regardless. The calls for a public audit are legitimate, but the Brewers surely won't let a couple state reps revise their payroll projections if the team's own president couldn't make any headway.
Lawmakers say the team owes everyone an explanation -- but that's about all it owes. The team isn't breaking any laws by trading away its best players.
Breaking hearts, sure. And that trend will continue unabated. Selig's 30 percent ownership stake in the team was placed in a blind trust when he took over as commissioner. But with his daughter still calling the shots (Wendy Selig-Prieb remains the exec board's chair), that trust looks nearsighted at worst. Bud may have saved baseball for this city in 1970, but he has run it into the ground since then. The walking public relations disaster that is the Seligs must go. The fact that a respected local leader cannot work with them is proof-positive of that.
But how? MLB isn't likely to work behind the scenes to force a sale; Bud is MLB. Public pressure? The state? Perhaps. However, as many a local writer has wondered, who the hell would want to buy this team? No good players? A ton of debt? Public humiliation? Sign me up!
The Brewers' new leadership ushered in last fall consisted of Payne, Melvin and Ned Yost, and two-thirds of it will remain if Payne leaves. Hopefully, Melvin and Yost's baseball acumen can maintain last year's momentum on a shoestring budget.
There's no doubting one thing: the Brewers have been about small payrolls and new stadiums and debt services and front office shuffling for far too long. Somehow, they need to return the product to the field, however ugly it may be in 2004.
Sports shots columnist Tim Gutowski was born in a hospital in West Allis and his sporting heart never really left. He grew up in a tiny town 30 miles west of the city named Genesee and was in attendance at County Stadium the day the Brewers clinched the 1981 second-half AL East crown. I bet you can't say that.
Though Tim moved away from Wisconsin (to Iowa and eventually the suburbs of Chicago) as a 10-year-old, he eventually found his way back to Milwaukee. He remembers fondly the pre-Web days of listenting to static-filled Brewers games on AM 620 and crying after repeated Bears' victories over the Packers.