Boo them, and they will come.
Regrettably that might be the rallying cry for disenchanted baseball fans as our erstwhile national pastime heads toward the 21st Century, entrusted to the caring hands of Allan H. “Bud” Selig.
By accepting the job as commissioner, Selig effectively removed himself from a list of candidates to coach the Bulls. But Selig has his own house-divided problems, not the least of which is returning to the people a game that used to be of the people and by the people.
The man from Milwaukee has a few detractors who label him “Bud Light,” presumably because he is better at making friends than making decisions. Even if that’s true, Selig’s knack for communicating is hardly a detriment, particularly in today’s climate.
There is little pretense about Selig’s role–he is a former owner who dances to the drumbeat of the current owners. But if his gift of gab somehow can contribute to improved diplomatic relations with the powerful players union, that’s progress.
Selig often grouses about the “mean streak” that exists within the sport, and the absence of a peaceful coexistence. When the factions producing the show are at war, cold or otherwise, it is only natural that fans feel alienated.
Ken Griffey Jr., the brilliant Seattle slugger, did nothing to change the mood when he announced that he was too disinterested to join last Monday’s home run hitting contest before the All-Star Game in Denver.
It took 50,000 common folk to boo him into participating, one way to get things done. That will not work everywhere, notably perpetually vacant Comiskey Park.
Mark McGwire, meanwhile, rues that his quest of Roger Maris’ home run record leaves him feeling like a “caged animal.” Oh, really? Some of us are ancient enough to remember when batting practice was included in the fun when you bought a ticket and that was before players earned $8.3 million aggravation pay per annum to endure such torture.
More Top Picks Best Wine Making Kits
If baseball is sincere about repairing its damaged image, couldn’t superstars like Griffey and McGwire send friendlier signals? Selig appears to have a genuine love for baseball. If he doesn’t, he’s a world-class faker.
Forget revenue sharing. Selig’s foremost task is to fix the relationship between the industry and the consumers. The wounds are deep. McGwire may feel like a caged animal in St. Louis, but if the system worked, he still would be hitting home runs in Oakland, one of several destitute markets where the franchise simply can’t cope.
That probably doesn’t sound like a problem in New York, Atlanta or Cleveland where the cash flows, but it is. More than half the players on Tuesday night’s All-Star rosters wore uniforms representing teams other than those with which they entered the major leagues. Half of the division races are over. And baseball’s “new look” is supposed to cultivate new interest, new identity?
I know, I know. It has been going on forever. Roger Maris hit 61 home runs with the Yankees only after they stole him from the moribund Kansas City Athletics in exchange for Marv Throneberry. Thing is, propping up destitute clubs now requires more than a different owner. It invariably demands a different ballpark, too, with some of your money.
Locally, the distance between the two teams is beyond 8.1 miles. The Cubs have a chance to turn Chicago into a delirious city during August, September, maybe even October. The roster isn’t perfect, but the century can be saved.
The White Sox are down and about out. Robin Ventura will be traded. Ron Schueler will quit. Jerry Reinsdorf will sell. Pick a rumor, search for a solution. As Reinsdorf’s old pal, perhaps Selig can exercise his clout, declare the Sox a national disaster, and find them federal relief.
Better yet, a starter to replace frustrated Jaime Navarro, who at last has explained his increased girth. He is beside himself. Navarro’s earned-run average is also a corpulent 6.04. Question: when will it split?