May 13, 2000

Dispelling the Myths of Baseball

If you listen to sports talk radio, television announcers, baseball pundits, writers, newspaper columnists, Bob Costas or Phoenix Predator GM's, you know that there are two big "problems" with the great game of baseball today: a) the number of runs being scored and home runs being hit, and b) the revenue disparity between "big-market" and "small-market" teams. If you believe the media - or those who allow the media to stick their hands in their backs and control the little levers that move their mouths up and down - these problems are destroying the game we all know and love and will eventually cause the game to collapse upon itself, triggering the apocalypse.

Because I like to be a contrarian when it comes to issues involving baseball, the media and the apocalypse, I'd like to take a few minutes out of my busy schedule to examine these pressing issues. So if you would, please unfold your arms, stop shaking your head back and forth and open your mind just a little.

First, let's look at the "Great Longball Controversy of 2000." This is really nothing, as the rate of homers has been rising steadily for years. Instead of a slow, steady progression, though, we've witnessed huge jumps in offense in 1986, 1994 and 1998. Each time, the bar is raised a little higher and each time baseball fans become a little more worried. Baseball fans - REAL baseball fans who can recite the Infield Fly Rule and can name the starting lineup of the 1978 Yankees off the tops of their heads - have become woozy with all the runs crossing the plate these days. It is disturbing to most of us to see the game change in such a drastic way, seemingly overnight. Yet if you read all the polls and look at all the attendance figures and merchandise sales, none of this seems to bother most so-called baseball fans.

The real question is: is there a problem?

So what if runs are being scored more often than Don Zimmer passes gas? So what if the home run has become as commonplace as body hair on Paul Marazita's bar of shower soap? Why has this onslaught against major league pitching become such a problem that it must be solved? In no particular order, here are the most popular reasons I've heard:

1. "The numbers being put up by today's hitters are distorting age-old definitions of excellence and are making it nearly impossible to compare players of today against players of yesterday." This is certainly true, even when comparing players of today against players of ten years ago. 30 homers and 100 RBI's used to be enough to win a player a nice shiny trophy. Last season, 38 players - more than one per team - accomplished this "feat." But just as you can't compare ballplayers from today against ballplayers of ten years ago without making adjustments for era, the same is true when comparing players of ANY two different eras. All the time-honored standards of excellence we all hold dear - .300 average, 30 home runs, 40 homers, 50 homers, 60 homers, 100 RBI's, 500 career homers, 300 wins, etc. - are meaningless without putting them into proper perspective. 300 wins for a pitcher who threw 60 games (and completed 55 of them) in the 1900's isn't the same as a pitcher who won 300 games in the 70's, 80's or 90's. A .300 average in 1968 is not the same as a .300 average in 1930. Comparing stats between eras has always involved adjustments (or should have), and that hasn't changed. I've said it before and I'll say it again: baseball, like everything else in the world, is cyclical.

2. "The home run has become boring." If this is true, why do people still show up early to watch Mark McGwire take batting practice? Why do so many people stand and cheer when someone on the home team hits one over the wall? After witnessing yet another ball fly out of the park this summer, find yourself a ten-year-old kid and ask him how boring that was. Commonplace, yes. Boring, never.

3. "Home runs have taken over the game." Sorry to say, but that's been the case for years - even before the homer explosion of the late '90's. Who gets more commercial endorsements: Mark McGwire or Greg Maddux? Who gets a bigger paycheck each month: Carlos Delgado or John Olerud? Who will get more Hall of Fame consideration: Sammy Sosa or Tim Raines? Who is more famous: Babe Ruth or Christy Mathewson? Since The Babe first stepped to the plate, people have always been fascinated with the home run more than any other feat in baseball. Those of us who love the game for its subtle nuances and strategies are in the minority. The more popular the game is, the better it is for all baseball fans. More games to watch on television, more magazines and web sites devoted to the game, more time devoted to the game on talk radio. Like it or not, our enjoyment of the game as baseball purists depends on the enjoyment of the game by baseball novices.

In the end, does it really hurt the game if every team's number nine-hitting backup shortstop clubs 20 homers a year? Isn't a 16-14 game every bit as exciting as a 3-1 game? Doesn't the better team still win in either scenario?

Unfortunately, this is where my contrarian position breaks down, as my answers to these questions are: yes, no and no. But I have my own reason for why this has become a problem, and it has nothing to do with tainting old records. My reason is simply that baseball is becoming less and less a game of strategy, and more and more an exhibition of a single skill. In other words, the game is becoming less and less like chess, more and more like "Home Run Derby." And this is my one and only complaint about the rash of home runs being hit today.

In today's game - especially in the American League - you don't see much sacrifice bunting, base stealing or station-to-station baseball anymore. Why risk an out when you can drive in two or three runs with one swing of the bat? There is very little need in the game today for players who are skilled at the "little things" in baseball like bunting, running, hitting the other way to advance the runner and even fielding. Increasingly, managers are willing to risk having a bad glove on the field as long as he can hit. No need to worry about advancing runners over or sprinting from first to third on a base hit. No need to cut down on your swing in order to get that runner on first into scoring position. In short, no strategy is involved with being a big league manager today other than filling out the lineup card and deciding when to yank the pitcher. It's the Diamond Mind equivalent of hitting the "1" key over and over and over again. In my mind, this type of baseball is boring as hell.

But is bunting, stealing and station-to-station baseball exciting for the novice baseball fan? Not on your life. You can pluck an Aborigine female straight out of Central Australia and show her a big guy clubbing a baseball 600 feet and she would find it exciting. No need for in-depth comprehension of the game when you can be drubbed over the head with it.

I heard the other day - and I think it's true - that baseball is now the only major sport around that features an abundance of offense. A team scoring 100 points in basketball has become the exception rather than the rule. In hockey, you'll be lucky if you see a team score more than two goals (a fact that has caused me endless aggravation, as every playoff game in hockey is forced into overtime, causing "Baseball Tonight" to be pushed back past my bed time.) And in football, owners are constantly looking for ways to boost offense and handcuff defense. Is this the reason why baseball is suddenly gaining in popularity? If you ask owners, they'd answer yes. But I believe baseball's popularity has more to do with ESPN, new stadiums and our country's current economic prosperity (not necessarily in that order.)

Baseball is more popular than ever right now, and owners and players are wealthier than ever. King Bud and the Good Ol' Boys of Baseball believe (and rightfully so, I might add) in the adage: "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." Therefore, they're not likely to do anything to suppress this offensive explosion. I do wish, though, that something would be done to restore the element of strategy in baseball. In order to fix a problem, though, you have to find the source. Plenty of theories exist to explain this offensive absurdity. You all know these theories by now, so I won't bore you by repeating them.

What would I do if I were Commissioner? Glad you asked.

First, I would figure out a way to dump the DH. Realistically, I know the Evil Don Fehr and the Player's Association would never allow this to happen. But maybe expanding rosters to 26 players would appease them enough to drop it in the best interests of the game. Getting rid of the DH would do so many great things for the game, it's hard to find a reason not to do it. For starters, it would balance the two leagues and eliminate the need to create silly rules for interleague play and the post-season. It would reduce the amount of offense and bring a little more balance to the game. It would create more strategy for AL teams, and give AL managers something to do besides sit on their hands. Last and probably least, it would help curb this recent rash of brushback pitches and on-field brawling.

Second, I'd force the umpires to enforce the rulebook. It seems silly to have to force a person to do the job he was hired to do, but apparently that's what it will take. If an ump has problems calling a strike a strike - as defined by the rulebook - then it's back to the bush leagues until he learns how to call them right. Maybe they could use that cool new technology I see on Fox all the time - the "Pitch Tracker" with the 3-D strike zone - to train these guys.

Another rule that needs to be enforced is this practice of batters that lean INTO pitches in order to get a free pass to first. And while we're at it, I'll join Rob Neyer's crusade and say that no more battle gear should be allowed at the plate. Between all the padding, the cozy strike zone and the fear the pitchers have of pitching inside (lest they incur the wrath of Frank Robinson), batters now are WAY too comfortable at the plate.

Aside from umpire-related issues, I believe the rules should also be enforced when it comes to new ballparks. Enron Field and Pac Bell Park both clearly violate the Major League rule stating that fences along the left and right field lines must be at least 325 feet from home plate. It is completely disgusting that Commissioner Bud allowed this to happen, and the fact that he has looked the other way on this issue only proves that he is a fraud and that a serious conflict of interests exists as long as he is in office. Why have all these rules if they are just blatantly ignored?

And finally, I would make it illegal for players to take any "supplements" that are deemed illegal by the Olympic Committee. Baseball has looked the other way on this issue for a long time, and the press has pretty much ignored the issue as well. But it's clear that a lot of players - a MAJORITY of players, even - are bulking up in unnatural ways. Clearly, this presents an unfair advantage since pitchers gain nothing from added strength.

I'm not asking for any rule changes whatsoever, and I don't believe that the game itself should be altered in any way. The mound should be left exactly where it is, and the ball should be made exactly the same (or the same as it was...or always has been.) If 20-19 games are a result of the natural evolution of the game of baseball then so be it. As someone once pointed out recently, we don't make sprinters today wear lead shoes just because they run twice as fast as sprinters in the '40's. Therefore, we shouldn't change the game just to keep it the same. But I would like to see pitchers have a fighting chance for survival, and I would like to see baseball's rules enforced instead of ignored.

Of course, the chances of King Bud and the Powers That Be doing something to tame this offensive explosion are about the same as the New Milford Blazers stringing together a four-game winning streak. As long as fans keep flocking to the parks and buying up all those neon orange Yankee hats faster than they can make them, Bud and the boys will be happy to keep things at status quo. And that might not be such a bad thing. After the offensive explosions of the early 30's and 60's, everything eventually quieted down. I wouldn't be too surprised if things are back to normal five years from now without any help from anyone. Because...say it with me...baseball is cyclical.

Revenue Disparity

I've written about this issue before, and by now you're all sick and tired of hearing about it. But I keep reading more and more opinions coming from only one side of the issue (note: most baseball writers seem to come from Kansas City) that I feel some balance is needed. Just to refresh your memory on where I stand on this issue, I believe that there has always been great revenue disparity in baseball, and contrary to popular belief it is not bad for the game, and it will not lead to the apocalypse. Just like offensive explosions, John Travolta's career and bell-bottom pants, a baseball team's revenue is cyclical. The great teams of today will be the cellar-dwellers of tomorrow. The rich today will be poor tomorrow.

Eight years ago, Baltimore (#23), Cleveland (#26), Texas (#21) and Houston (#25) were among the lowest in payroll and wins. Oakland (#2), Cincinnati (#8) and Pittsburgh (#6) were among the biggest spenders and biggest winners. Soon enough, these teams will once again switch places. There's no reason to hit the panic button just because Bud Selig's and Bob Costas' favorite teams are currently in the middle of a lull, and the Evil George Steinbrenner's team is currently enjoying a successful run.

What are the big issues occupying the time and thoughts of so many concerned baseball enthusiasts these days? Let me tackle them one at a time:

1. "Teams with small payrolls simply can't compete." The implication with this statement seems to be that teams with small payrolls SHOULD be competitive. My question is: why should they? This Robin Hood-like attitude ("steal from the rich, give to the poor") is frighteningly pervasive in a country that is supposed to be a capitalist society. Success should come from hard work and talent, not from undeserved charity designed to help "make everything even." Okay, enough soapbox rambling. Let's look at some numbers.

1995-1999

As you can see, the facts seem to back up the statement that teams with small payrolls are unlikely to compete. Of the teams with payrolls below 60% of the highest payroll, only 3 of 73 (4%) have made the playoffs from 1995-1999. Before we continue, let's increase the sample size a bit and include 1992 and 1993 (when only four teams made the playoffs), 1994 (when there were no playoffs, but we'll count the division leaders at the time of the strike as playoff teams) and the current season (where the current division leaders will be considered playoff teams.)

1992-2000

A little better, but once again, the teams spending less than 60% of the highest payroll are scarcely represented (7 out of 118, 6%.) I wonder, however, if a team with a payroll that low is genuinely interested in competing, or whether it is simply trying to make enough money to sustain the franchise while the team rebuilds. If a team with a low payroll really couldn't afford a high payroll, they'd likely be at the bottom of the pay scale every year. A team doesn't suddenly become poor overnight if their success level remains constant. Is payroll really as cyclical as I think it is? Instead of speculating, let's take a look at the facts.

There are currently 14 teams in the major leagues with payrolls that are 59% or less of the highest paid team. Of those 14 teams, all but one (Montreal) has had a payroll of 60% or above in at least one season between 1992-1999 (note: unfortunately, I only have revenue data dating back to 1992 or I'd look at the past ten years.)

Next question: were these teams able to compete recently? Of those 14 teams, eight have appeared in the playoffs in at least one season between 1992-1999 - nine if you count the Montreal Expos in 1994 when there were no playoffs, and ten if you count the Chicago White Sox, who would be in the playoffs if the current season ended today. In other words, over 70-percent of today's "low-budget" teams have enjoyed recent success.

It seems to me that these teams aren't operating with a low payroll because they can't afford it. Instead, it looks as if these teams are simply in the middle of a lull between competitive seasons. They call those lulls "rebuilding years" and every team goes through them, with the exception of two teams in recent history. I'll talk about those teams a little later. As for the one exception to the rule, the Expos, they are what is called in statistical terms "an outlier." The normal equation for being competitive in baseball looks something like this: winning = increased attendance = increased revenue = increased payroll = competitiveness. Generally, you can't have the factor on the right without having the factor to the left. There are, however, exceptions.

For the Expos, this equation breaks down right at factor number two: increased attendance. No matter how much the Expos win, their attendance remains ridiculously low. In 1996, when the Expos challenged for the wild card down to the wire, they drew just 1.3 million fans - 18th in the league. This year, with Vladimir Guerrero and an exciting, young pitching staff helping the team to the sixth-best record in the league, Montreal is drawing an average of 13,207 per game. I don't have the numbers from 1994, when Montreal finished the season with the best record in all of baseball, but I can't imagine they drew much more than that 13,207 average. Compounding the problems in Montreal is the fact that they failed to negotiate a television contract this year. But whose fault is that? George Steinbrenner's?

Montreal simply is not a baseball town. Never was, never will be. Should the rest of the league hold Montreal's hand and carry them into contention? I see no reason why they should. I'd much rather see the team move somewhere where the fans will support them. But it doesn't look like that will happen any time soon. Montreal has enough talent right now to compete - and they are competing as I type. But as long as they are stuck at factor number two in the success equation, they'll never enjoy a long run at the top.

The other outlier, I should note, is the New York Yankees. And the reason that they should not be included in any rational argument on this issue is their enormous contract with the MSG network. In 1996, the Yankees raked in $69.8 million in media revenue. 20 teams earned between $20-$32 million and seven earned between $15-$20 million. Obviously, the Yankees are the outlier. Their contract with MSG allows them to spend $38 million more than any other team on payroll regardless of attendance. Because of this, the success equation doesn't apply to them. But the MSG contract is a fluke, and is unlikely to be repeated ever again.

The history of that MSG deal is actually pretty interesting. Steinbrenner just happened to be in the very right place at the very right time. Before 1982, every baseball game broadcast on television was aired on local, free TV. But in 1982, New York Mets owner Nelson Doubleday signed a contract with an upstart cable TV service called SportsChannel.

SportsChannel was the brainchild of cable TV pioneer Chuck Dolan, who was the first person to come up with the idea of bouncing a signal off the RCA broadcast satellite and creating a pay cable service called HBO. Dolan wanted to secure the rights to all New York sports games for his SportsChannel network, and he got the Islanders to sign on almost immediately. At the time, the Mets were the top baseball team in the city, and Dolan wanted to add the Mets to the fold in the worst way. So he offered Doubleday a THIRTY-YEAR deal worth $17 million a year. Doubleday gladly accepted the record deal.

Right after that deal was made, cable TV took off in a big, big way, and the Mets' deal no longer looked all that special. In 1983, Steinbrenner made a deal with SportsChannel for $6.7 million a year. Unlike Doubleday, however, Steinbrenner was a little less myopic. He signed a 15-year deal, but he smartly negotiated an escape clause after five years where he could buy out the remainder of the deal for $16 million. By the time five years had passed, in 1988, the cable market was at an all-time high, and Steinbrenner happily paid the $16 million in exchange for a 12-year, $486 million deal with the upstart MSG network. The rest, as they say, is history.

You simply can't compare the Yankees to the Expos, because they are both outliers. Any time a discussion about revenue disparity arises, however, someone will undoubtedly compare the two as their prime example why the game isn't fair, and why something must be done to correct the injustice.

A new wrinkle has been added to the success equation in recent years, and it is the influx of "mallparks" (as Rob Neyer likes to call them.) These new parks are more than a venue for watching a ballgame. They are a combination of shopping mall, amusement park, food festival and entertainment center. The game itself has almost become an afterthought for some of these places, and at prices that are somewhat affordable in comparison with other events, ballgames have become magnets for families and business people alike.

In addition to increased revenue generated from overall attendance, these parks also feature tons of high-priced luxury suites and advertising income from gimmicks like the giant Coke bottle in Pac Bell Park to the ubiquitous corporate naming of stadiums. For the most part, these parks allow teams to dismiss the first part of the success equation, which is winning. Whether the Orioles win or (more often) not, Camden Yards has always been filled to capacity. This has allowed the ownership to keep the payroll high. Once again, there is an exception to this new phenomenon, and it is Detroit's Comerica Park. I don't quite understand why Detroit fans aren't coming out to this park like other fans at other new parks. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the team is awful and the ticket prices are twice as high as they were last year. Or maybe the novelty of the new "Camden-like" parks is finally starting to wear off.

2. "The disparity between the have's and have-not's is growing wider and wider every year." Again, instead of squabbling over this, let's look at the facts. Here are the revenue disparities between the highest and lowest payrolls for every year from 1992-2000:

This statement doesn't seem to hold water, does it? The disparity has pretty much been the same since 1992 (and again, I'd love to go back even further, but I only have numbers for the 1992-2000 seasons.) By the way, isn't it funny seeing teams like Cleveland and the Mets listed as "have-nots?" The fact that a few of these teams appear on both sides of the top-five payroll list over the past nine years only proves my earlier point further.

What does all this mean? I think the sample size may be too small to draw any definitive solutions, but there doesn't appear to be any sort of trend one way or the other. Since 1992, the gap between the "have's" and "have-not's" appears to be relatively stable.

3. "The playoffs are comprised of nothing but the richest teams." Proponents of this particular phrase often cite the 1999 playoffs as their prime example. In 1999, all eight teams in the postseason were in the top ten in payroll. Of course, it's not accurate to take one particular year and use that as the one and only proof for an argument. In 1998, the Astros made the playoffs with a payroll ranking 13th. In 1997, Seattle (#15), San Francisco (#19) and Houston (#21) all made the playoffs. In 1996, Los Angeles (#12) and San Diego (#14) did it. If you take the 40 playoff teams from 1995-1999, here is the breakdown by payroll as a percentage of the top payroll:

37.5% of playoff teams during that time were represented by teams with payrolls of less than 70% of the top team's payroll. If you add in the 1994-2000 seasons, the percentage looks even better:

That's 45% - or nearly half - of all playoff teams represented by teams with less than 70% of the top team's payroll. Clearly, the playoffs aren't populated solely by the wealthy elite every year. If you want to argue that 1999 is the most recent year, therefore it is the most significant, than I'll show you the percentages for this season's leaders: 100%, 89%, 87%, 84%, 69%, 64%, 36% and 34%.

Now, I know what you're thinking. The first factor in my success equation is winning. But how can a team win without having a large payroll? Good question. I'm glad you asked. Let's look at two successful teams in baseball and figure out how they became successful:

1. The New York Yankees. I've already talked about how this team is really the exception rather than the rule because of their unusual amount of media revenue. But the MSG contract began in 1989, and the Yankees were awful until around 1994. How did they become successful? Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't free agency. It was their farm system. Derek Jeter, Andy Pettitte, Bernie Williams, Jorge Posada and Mariano Rivera to be specific. They also used farm products Eric Milton, Russ Davis, Sterling Hitchcock, Marty Janzen and Ruben Rivera to get Chuck Knoblauch, Tino Martinez, David Cone and Roger Clemens. Orlando Hernandez was also, technically, a product of the farm. For all the talk about how the Yankees have "bought their way into the playoffs" the past five years, none of the regular, contributing players in the starting lineup, pitching rotation or bullpen were acquired as free agents.

2. The Atlanta Braves. Unlike the Yankees, the Braves don't have an enormous media contract. But that's only because their owner happens to own all of their broadcast rights (as well as the broadcast rights to most of the free world.) Ted Turner pays only a tiny sum (to himself, basically) for the rights to air Braves games on TBS. But he receives untold millions in revenue from the exposure TBS receives from airing Braves games to much of the country, and he writes off as much as he can as "losses" every tax day. It's a sweet deal, but what do you expect when you deal in the world of conflicted interests? Like the Yankees, though, the Braves have achieved success through their farm. Chipper Jones, Andruw Jones, Javy Lopez, Rafael Furcal, Tom Glavine, John Smoltz (who was not drafted by the Braves, but developed through their farm system) and John Rocker (to name just a few) were all drafted and developed through the Braves' farm. Other farm products such as Ryan Klesko, Mike Kelly, David Justice and Tommy Green were traded in exchange for players like Reggie Sanders, Quilvio Veras and Kenny Lofton.

I could continue with every other successful team in baseball history, but you get the picture. Basically, success starts with the farm. And this is nothing new. The Twins of '87-'91 became successful because of farm products like Frank Viola, Gary Gaetti, Kirby Puckett, Kent Hrbek and Scott Erickson. The stars of the '86-'90 Oakland A's dynasty were farm products: Jose Canseco, Mark McGwire and Walt Weiss. The Dodgers have built several great teams thanks to stars of the farm like Raul Mondesi, Eric Karros, Steve Sax, Mike Piazza, Orel Hershiser, Fernando Valenzuela and others. When the Kansas City Royals ruled the AL West in the late '70's and '80's, who were their stars? George Brett, Hal McRae, Larry Gura, Willie Wilson, Frank White, John Wathan, Paul Splittorff, Mark Gubicza, Bret Saberhagen and Dan Quisenberry - all products of the farm.

If baseball success begins with the farm, which teams are most likely to succeed in the future? How about Minnesota with David Ortiz, Matt LeCroy, Corey Koskie, Matt Lawton, Brad Radke, Eric Milton, Mike Restovich, Mike Cuddyer and B.J. Garbe? How about Kansas City with Dee Brown, Mark Quinn, Johnny Damon, Carlos Beltran, Carlos Febles, Mike Sweeney, Jose Rosado, Jeff Austin, Dan Reichert, Chad Durbin and Junior Guerrero? How about Montreal with Ugueth Urbina, Michael Barrett, Vlad Guerrero, Rondell White, Peter Bergeron, Milton Bradley, Jose Vidro, Javier Vazquez, Dustin Hermanson, Carl Pavano and Tony Armas? Or what about Oakland, with Ben Grieve, Eric Chavez, Adam Piatt, Jason and Jeremy Giambi, Ramon Hernandez, Miguel Tejada, Tim Hudson, Mark Mulder and Barry Zito?

Each one of these teams - Minnesota, Kansas City, Montreal and Oakland - is currently being used as an example of a team that can never compete because they don't have the payroll. But once these teams start winning - and I think it has happened already - the fans will (or should) begin to fill their stadiums. And once they fill their stadiums, their revenues will increase. And once their revenues increase, their payrolls will increase as well. It's only a matter of time.

Now that I've laid it all out on the line, dispelled all the myths and untruths, and uncovered the facts behind the hysteria, my biggest question is this: why am I, a no-name nobody with no connection to the game whatsoever, the only person I've ever heard who has come down on this side of the issue? The answer is simple: controversy sells. It sells newspapers, it sells magazines and it sells air time on television and radio. No one wants to hear someone stand up and declare that everything is just fine. That's why the nightly news is filled with death and tragedy every night. That's why the leading story on the front page of the papers is not the latest medical breakthrough in cancer treatments or the discovery of extrasolar planets; it's the latest controversy surrounding the flawed celebrity or politician de jour, the latest high-profile death or murder, or the latest crisis facing our economy, the environment or our nation's children. Bad news sells; good news doesn't.

So what have we learned from all of this? Let's summarize:

a) The only problem with the increase in offense in baseball is the decrease in strategy.
b) If you're worried about your favorite small-market team being able to compete in the near future, just be patient.
c) Don't believe everything you read.