Commissioner Manfred and the 30 owners,
MLB’s Opening Day has always been a milestone event in a year’s progression. Temperatures are rising, snow is melting and school’s end is entering view on the horizon. Most importantly, though: Baseball will be on with little rest for the next six months.
Opening Day will, barring further disaster, still occur in 2022. Thanks to the continued lockout of players, it will not occur as scheduled. Tuesday, after a night and day of promisingly accelerating negotiations with the MLBPA, you officially canceled the first two series of the season.
Media insiders’ Twitter flurries extended deep into Monday night. After months of idleness, you and the players began meeting to agree on a new collective bargaining agreement. This CBA dictates several economic aspects of MLB including minimum player salaries, luxury tax thresholds and postseason structure. Massive divides between what you want and what the players’ union wants had reportedly been narrowed, but not enough to end the lockout and make an on-time Opening Day possible.
Very basically, you are raking in boatloads of money and the players feel they deserve a bigger share. Consistent with labor disputes in any industry, both sides have their supporters.
It makes sense why you — 30 obscenely wealthy owners for whom Rob Manfred speaks — have shown little urgency to reach an agreement with the players. Whether the season includes 100 games or 162, your 2022 profits will remain huge. Big-market owners, the Yankees’ Hal Steinbrenner for example, value their current power and long-term earnings over any short-term financial implications. Small-market owners like Miami’s Bruce Sherman, on the other hand, struggle to fill seats even during the summer and surely don’t mind surrendering afternoon home games in April. Steinbrenner and Sherman, you are equally guilty.
Manfred, although you essentially represent these men, you are hardly free from blame. Your interest in improving baseball is rightfully questioned by players and fans alike. Your recent comments have included an objectification of World Series championships and a suggestion that owning an MLB franchise is not a surefire source of profit, but rather a financial gamble.
The ultimate slap in the face came Tuesday, when you took the podium minutes after the deadline passed and Opening Day was officially delayed. You didn’t say anything particularly surprising, but you flashed an ear-to-ear grin, as if to suggest a victory for you and the league. Fans nationwide, meanwhile, desperate to see their teams on the field, could only watch in fury.
Make no mistake, Manfred and the owners: This is not a victory for you. MLB, notoriously inept at marketing its modern stars, is locking out the likes of Mike Trout, Shohei Ohtani and dozens of other standout performers currently in their primes. Generational talents of Clayton Kershaw’s caliber, nearing the end of their storied careers, remain unemployed. Inexperienced prospects on 40-man rosters, the stars of tomorrow, will inevitably suffer from this period of inaction.
Those who follow professional baseball, be it a hometown team or the league as a whole, have every right to be angry. In Atlanta, fans are eager to flock to Truist Park and continue celebrating their World Series title. Likewise, Mets diehards cannot wait to fill Citi Field’s seats and witness the return of Jacob DeGrom. Then, a night later, they want to see Max Scherzer’s ferocious snarl in friendly colors for the first time.
So, your immediate reaction may be one of victory, one expressed with a beaming smile. That’s valid when considering 2022, but a long-term outlook hints at the further and possibly irreversible degradation of America’s interest in professional baseball. Or, put in terms you can understand, money loss.
Frustratedly,
Baseball fans
