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Give Ball Players What They Want; Then Drop Them If there is a baseball players’ strike will I be through with baseball? Maybe. I never, ever thought I would say that, but I’ve just about had it with those Major Leaguers, those money-grubbing rich guys who flaunt their arrogance while (allegedly) taking steroids with one hand and depositing millions in the bank with the other. Hey, I don’t mind the salary part of it much, except for my envy (wish I could play that well so I could make that much money myself). If a guy can make X amount of money for a company, you hire him. If he can bring in an excessively high amount of profit, you give him or her just about what he or she wants — as long as you can make a profit, right? Well, the Giambis and the Jeters and the Sosas and Bonds are packing crowds into their respective stadiums and attracting fans to the lucrative TV market and — guess what? — their bosses, the franchise owners, are paying them to do that. It’s called capitalism. Spend money to make more money. And what’s wrong with that? You know what? It doesn’t make us who watch them on television or go to ball games at Yankee Stadium or Shea Stadium dummies either. There was a time when I said the players are making fools of us fans who are paying good money to go to the games and eating $4.50 hot dogs in the stands and spending, say, $100 for the day. But, you know, the last time I did it, which was a couple of months ago, I knew what I was doing. They didn’t make a fool of me, because I saw my Yankees at their best. They played hard and entertained me and, after all, that’s what they’re supposed to do. That’s what those big bucks are for. Back to the premise: Will they get me back if they go on strike and, like 1994, the season is cut short? I don’t think so. True, they do a wonderful job of allowing me to spend my evenings or afternoons watching them entertain me, like court jesters, but after awhile, the court jester starts getting serious (about money, this time) and, hey, that’s not what a person in that profession is all about. My year so far with the Yankees has been less than happy because of the quarrel between the YES network, which is owned by the Yankees, and Cable-vision, which I have installed in my home. Yankees or not, I’m not about to go out and get a satellite dish just for them. I’m not that much of a fan. So I’ve been relegated to a small, portable am/fm radio that I plug into my ear and listen to while watering the front lawn most evenings. It’s okay, I guess, except that my wife complains that when she talks to me she either gets nothing but a blank stare or watches me doing a jig because someone has been struck out or a home run has been hit. With that radio I’m still into the game, but it just ain’t the same as watching it live or on TV. As a result of my not watching the Yankees on TV so much, I admit my interest has waned slightly. Only slightly. However, if they go on strike — even for a little while — my interest, like watching them on Old Timers Day, will only be praising their past. I’m sorry, fellas, but if you want a divorce, it’s got to be a clean break. Just do us all a favor: make it easy on us both and don’t come back.
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