Cubs Video
It's not your fault that you feel aggrieved and insane at the end of this long, quiet MLB winter. You've been programmed, and much of the programming has been involuntary. The world has slowly become very fast in its processing of everything, and in our rush to banish boredom, we've pulverized pensiveness and obliterated objectivity. The baseball offseason was, within even my relatively short lifetime, as much about the waiting and the quietude and the opportunities for reflection as about moves, but ESPN long ago learned that people flip away from SportsCenter when they tried to put quietude or reflection on TV, so the hot stove became the enormous, insatiable furnace of a runaway train.
We went from a daily news cycle centered around the two issues of the paper to a 24-hour cable news iteration, and then to the instant, constant, moment-to-moment frenzy of the social media age. The internet is in your pocket, and it's buzzing (sometimes literally) at all times. You might have the willpower to go an hour without checking Twitter. You might be modernity's answer to the Stoic sages, able to check it as rarely as every eight hours, or every day, and no more. But you're probably not capable of fighting the temptation to catastrophize when, over as many as 12 check-ins (that could be half a day, but it could be up to a week and a half!), nothing happens. The world has conditioned you to expect transactions. The same way you get anxious and frustrated if your latest Instagram post gets too few likes, you get anxious and frustrated when your team doesn't do something.
Do something. That's the motto of our times. It's too vague to carry any real value, and its urgency is counterproductive, because it leaves no room for intangible progress. It's better than the last generation's watchwords, which were laissez-faire, because those words ignored the real need for change and progress, but we haven't yet come to the right balance. If you needed more evidence of that, listen to the CHGO Cubs podcast literally any day, or listen to Rob Manfred talk to reporters in Florida this week, or search "MLB deadline" on Twitter. The slow progress of this offseason has people so itchy that they have gone beyond wanting their team to do something. Now, even though a great many of these people are too smart to trust Rob Manfred with literally anything, they want the league he operates to do something. They want the players union to do something.
This is madeness. It's indefensibly stupid talk, because any fan engaged enough to feel the real frustration of this winter should be informed enough to know that an offseason deadline would be (paradoxically) both calamitous and fruitless. In any form yet articulated or imagined, it would crater the market for players, but make no material difference beyond that. I am not a protector of players' pocketbooks. I don't think they should make as much money as they do, in a vacuum. Because player salaries aren't the drivers of fan costs or teams' decisions in the modern game, though, this can't be considered in a vacuum. Money taken from players' pockets will only fall back into the owners'.
In a deadline-constrained free agency, owners would pin players to the wall. There are always more players than teams with whom a player can sign, and teams can fill needs via trades, whereas free agents have no choice other thatn to find someone who wants them. Deadlines spur action, but they don't permit fair dealing between two sides. The leverage would all be with the clubs, and they would abuse that leverage.
Scott Boras is probably not your favorite person right now, but he's fighting the good fight. It is more than bizarre--it is patently absurd, and not a little outrageous--that Blake Snell is in a position of even beginning to entertain having to take a short-term deal this winter, coming off not only a Cy Young Award season, but his second one. Boras certainly takes a unique approach to free agency with his guys, treating them more like items in a department store window--merchandise that will be sold only when the price is met--than like produce that needs to be moved before it spoils. That can be maddening, when the price he sets feels unreasonable, but much more often than not, it's teams who are being unreasonable by refusing to meet what is a relatively fair price. Sometimes, teams do that just to make a point, and that's more damnable than Boras's conduct.
Now that analytically sound executives have taken over the sport (thanks to cost-conscious owners), we're stuck in this state of affairs, unless and until a cap-and-floor system comes into effect in MLB. The players will never agree to an offseason signing or trade deadline. Nor should they. They also won't accept a cap-and-floor concept; I'm less certain that they're right to draw that hard line. On the other hand, owners are unlikely to assent to many forms of cap-and-floor at this point, because they have a great deal of revenue made possible by baseball but which they would not want to count as baseball revenue when it came time to divide the pie.
So, we wait. Want to do something? Vote down measures that subsidize ballparks to the tune of hundreds of millions of dollars, be it via tax breaks for the team or new taxes on residents of a given community. Refuse to pay the inflated prices owners have gotten in the habit of charging on everything attached to their product--prices leavened not by players' high salaries, but by the fact that fans have not shown any meaningful resistance to that inflation. Demand legislation that makes it much harder for people as rich as MLB owners (and many players) to hold onto huge shares of their money, to dampen the incentive for such avarice and to improve the lives of yourself and your neighbors.
Just don't advocate an offseason activity deadline, in any form. It's a non-starter, and if it did come to fruition, it would be a disaster. We've seen some versions of offseason deadlines before. They were accelerators for owners' efforts to collude against the plaowners' efforts to colludeyers, and nothing more. So it would be again. Your life won't be improved by having more moves happen fast. It'll be improved when you shake off your programming and stop wanting that flurry of moves so badly.







Recommended Comments
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!
Register a new accountSign in
Already have an account? Sign in here.
Sign In Now