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For the entire month of September, there has been a grand total of one race for any of the eight playoff spots. Even then, the one ‘legitimate’ playoff race has been for the National League wild card, where (and it kills me to admit this) the San Francisco Giants’ anemic offense has been working overtime to try and make even this one existing race irrelevant.
While playoff games in October might reveal which teams have superior talent and an actual chance to win a World Series, September is the time for the second-, third- and even fourth-place teams to keep dreaming a bit. Before magic numbers can be counted on one hand, and while a third of the league is still separated by five games in the wild-card race, September is normally the month in which most teams have something to play for.
For as good as the current month should be, there is a s
light hitch: This September has been about as interesting as sitting through a Pirates-Nationals doubleheader. The eight teams that currently hold playoff berths are exactly the same teams that led their respective divisions a whole month ago, engendering a month of ‘mdash; for what it’s worth ‘mdash; meaningless baseball games.
Why is it that nearly two-thirds of major league teams find themselves with nothing to play for with over a fifth of the season left? How come certain teams find themselves in contention year after year while other teams have been written off since the first day of spring training?
The complete lack of parity in baseball stems largely from the huge gap in spending between the fewer, wealthier teams and the remaining poorer ball clubs. OK, so any organization where the minimum salary is 400K a year can hardly be considered proletarian, but baseball has the ability to make September ‘mdash;and consequently the season as a whole ‘mdash; interesting and competitive again by creating a much more level playing field.
How to do this? Simple: Institute a salary cap.
Unlike its stepbrothers in the NFL and the NBA, Major League Baseball has no salary cap, meaning that any team can spend as much as it is capable in order to field a team. But this is America ‘- the land of opportunity, one might say ‘- where any person has the potential to defy his or her surroundings and rise to capitalistic glory. Does this belief carry over into baseball, the official pastime of the American dream? Under its current system, Major League Baseball has created so much financial and structural disparity that lowly teams like the Kansas City Royals and the Washington Nationals have, in reality, about as much a chance of winning the World Series as a poor, struggling family of five has of receiving adequate health care from President Obama.
Baseball, in fact, does have two existing systems in place that attempt to close the performance gap, but neither MLB’s system of revenue sharing nor its ‘luxury tax’ come anywhere close to creating equal competition. Revenue sharing stipulates that each of the 30 teams must fork over 30 percent of their profits to be distributed evenly amongst all teams, but there is no requirement that this money must be spent on players’ salaries. This creates a giant loophole that has allowed numerous owners to pocket millions by deliberately keeping their salaries down.
In 2003, the smaller-market Florida Marlins won the World Series with a respectable payroll of $54 million. That team was built around a mix of veterans and budding stars that included Josh Beckett, Mike Lowell, Brad Penny and Ivan Rodriguez. Instead of retaining these players and making a run at more titles, Marlins ownership dismantled the team through free agency and trades, enabling its payroll to drop all the way down to $14.9 million in 2006, nearly 20 percent of the league average. Doing so qualified Florida to receive a league-high $31 million in revenue-sharing dollars, not a cent of which went to fielding a more talented team, but instead made up the majority of its MLB-best $43 million profit in 2006.
Baseball’s second system is the competitive balance tax (aka the ‘luxury tax’) a stipulation just as flawed as the first. This places a tax on team payrolls that go over a preset ceiling that changes every year, but which is set so high ‘mdash; $162 million for the 2009 season ‘mdash; that it realistically only applies to baseball’s top-two spending teams, the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox.
If baseball’s primary check on team inequality promotes greedy ownership, and its secondary check only impacts a fraction of the league, how can the majority of teams ever have a realistic shot at becoming competitive?
The fact that seven different teams have won a World Series since 2001 ‘mdash; none of them being the dreaded Yankees ‘mdash; is a step in the right direction. But the fact that only two of those teams, the ’01 Diamondbacks and the ’03 Marlins, can be considered small-market shows that revenue sharing has less to do with seven different champions in eight years than Bud Selig would have us think.
Only by implementing a salary cap can baseball hope to see more teams in competition late in the season ‘mdash; teams that have have a real shot at winning. The type of ‘hard cap’ used in other professional sports makes it so that teams cannot spend over a set amount on team payroll. The NFL sets its hard cap at $128 million per team while the NBA holds their team salaries to a mere $59 million a year. Each of those leagues has seen its share of dynasties in the recent past, but they have also taken the important first step of limiting the lavish spending that has come to define baseball in the Scott Boras era of free agency. The fact that Barry Zito signed for $126 million is evidence enough to create a salary cap.
Imagine if the Yankees couldn’t sign Mark Teixeira for the absurd amount of $180 million, and he instead signed with his hometown team, the Baltimore Orioles. Or if, instead of taking $161 million to play in New York pinstripes, CC Sabathia re-signed with the Milwaukee Brewers and led them through another playoff race. With just those two examples, you bring one dominating team slightly back down to earth while two underperforming clubs receive a much-needed boost.
The reality is that most teams will not be in contention come September of any given year. Does this mean that fans, players and all 30 teams don’t deserve at least a fighting chance? Yankees President Hank Steinbrenner, who ‘mdash; at the helm of the world’s richest ball club stands to lose the most from any changes ‘mdash; said this about revenue sharing and a salary cap: ‘That’s a system I don’t particularly like. It’s a socialist system, and I don’t agree with it. Is it even American?’
Well, Uncle Hank has put it in its simplest form: You’re either a true American patriot who wants to let the free market determine who wins a World Series, or you’re a Fidel-loving, Molotov-throwing commie who wants more competitive equality. Well then, comrade, pour yourself a shot of vodka and grab a seat on the couch, because the game’s about to start.
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