Editor’s note – This article originally appeared on AstrosConnection.com on December 11, 2000.
Concerned that their critics might think they’re spending too much money, the New York Yankees characterized their six-year, $88.5-million signing of starting pitcher Mike Mussina as a potential cost-cutting move. After all, they say, David Cone, whom Mussina will replace in the rotation, made $12 million last year, $2 million more than Mussina will in 2001.
How nice of the Yankees, who finished 2000 with a $113.4-million payroll, to exercise such restraint. Surely George Steinbrenner’s fellow owners will acknowledge his magnanimity. Yet despite the belt-tightening, poor Steinbrenner still has to sign the paychecks of a roster of multimillionaires.
First baseman Tino Martinez will make $6 million next season; second baseman Chuck Knoblauch $6 million; third baseman Scott Brosius $5.25 million; center fielder Bernie Williams $12.4 million; right fielder Paul O’Neill $6.5 million; and designated hitter David Justice $7 million. The Yankees project shortstop Derek Jeter and catcher Jorge Posada, both arbitration-eligible, to receive $13 million and $4 million, respectively.
That’s a little more than $60 million without a left fielder, a bench, and a pitching staff. Seventeen teams had an Opening Day payroll less than $60 million last season. And even with Cone’s departure, it’s not as if the Yankees are cutting corners on the mound. Roger Clemens will make $10.3 million, Mussina $10 million, Andy Pettitte $7 million, and Orlando Hernandez $2.05 million, a real bargain.
Relievers Mike Stanton and Allen Watson are signed for $2.45 million and $1.7 million, respectively. The Yankees project arbitration-eligible swingman Ramiro Mendoza to receive $1.5 million and closer Mariano Rivera to earn $9 million.
At least the Yankees spend their money effectively, winning four of the last five World Series. Few people outside Baltimore will shed a tear for the Orioles, whom Mussina left behind. Like the Dodgers, the Orioles have given all kinds of ammunition to the confused souls who believe that just because extravagant teams don’t always succeed means thrifty teams can thrive.
For every Baltimore or Los Angeles shoveling money into a bottomless pit there’s an Oakland or Cincinnati good enough to compete but not good enough to go all the way. Simply put, money will get you so far, brains will get you so far, but money and brains together are what drive teams like the Yankees and Braves to win, between them, 13 division titles, nine pennants, and five World Series in the last decade.
Who can blame Steinbrenner for, under the present rules, fielding the best team money can buy? But he, Ted Turner, Peter Angelos, and Rupert Murdoch and their auspicious spending will bear some responsibility if massive disparities on baseball’s financial landscape bring about a collapse of the system in the near future.
Defenders of the system claim that since certain owners pay more to purchase and operate high-revenue franchises, teams in small and middle markets should stop whining about what is, after all, free competition. Baseball is not an economically competitive market, though. Under free competition, the Twins, Royals, or Expos could pull up stakes and settle down in Steinbrenner’s backyard.
This may sound absurd, but think if some billionaire bought a struggling franchise, lined up investors to build a posh new ballpark in Manhattan, moved the team to New York, and threw wads of money at free agents to build a strong team. Particularly in the early ’90s, when the Yankees and Mets weren’t dominant, this would’ve presented a serious threat to the values of the existing New York teams.
But baseball has territorial rights, which are the most valuable property teams like the Yankees and Dodgers possess. If you open a gas station at a busy intersection and do great business, rest assured another gas station will open across the street or next door. Baseball doesn’t work that way.
Nor should it. Territorial rights were instituted for a reason, to prevent bloody turf wars among teams trying to exist in the same city. Moreover, the business of baseball as an integrated, nationwide entity has an interest in having teams and fans in as many cities as economically and competitively feasible. But owners like Steinbrenner and Angelos should acknowledge the value of those rights. It’s worth far more to have your territory protected in New York or Baltimore-Washington than it is in Minneapolis-St. Paul or Kansas City.
Market size is obviously not the only factor to revenue. The Cubs and Braves have succeeded financially through national cable superstations. While their owners deserve to profit from their initiative, it makes no sense that the other 28 teams share little or none of that profit, since their teams also have to play the games that make those profits possible. Only the slackest-jawed of yokels would tune in six months a year to watch intrasquad Braves games.
Teams also profit from taxpayer-funded ballparks. As the novelty wears off, this effect will likely dampen for less successful teams. Moreover, as almost every team acquires a new stadium, the result will be to boost revenues leaguewide but not to reduce revenue disparity. Any mechanism that increases revenue flows into baseball irrespective of the destination of those dollars is likely to benefit the wealthiest teams most. Imagine if the Yankees ever get a new retro ballpark in a better part of town than the Bronx.
Steinbrenner, Turner, Angelos, and Murdoch aren’t going to like it, but at some point meaningful revenue-sharing, not just luxury taxes that fund the Expos’ pathetic payroll, is going to have to be instituted. Something like a 50-50 or 60-40 split between home and road teams, both in media and gate, is the only thing likely to keep playoff berths by teams like the Athletics from becoming a merely random, odd occurrence.
Even sharing half their revenues the Yankees would still be baseball’s most lucrative franchise. There’s nothing wrong with some imbalance. But gross imbalance is destructive to baseball as a whole. The teams are supposed to compete on the field, not at the bank. This has been a central organizing principle of closed professional sports leagues since they came into existence in 1876. A cartel is formed to enrich its members as a whole, not to benefit them individually at each other’s expense.
Some fans like to remember the golden years of the ’50s, when the Yankees absolutely ruled baseball, winning eight pennants and six World Series. What they fail to recall is that major-league attendance, American League attendance in particular, languished in competition with other, newer forms of entertainment like television. If events in October become a foregone conclusion, excepting the odd darkhorse sneaking into the playoffs from time to time, baseball will suffer again. Assuming the less affluent teams don’t revolt first.