To take sides in Major League Baseball’s latest moronic money war, sometimes it seems like the players are from another planet.
Either that, or just plain dopey.
Exhibit ‘A’ is the reaction of Colorado Rockies star outfielder Charlie Blackmon when told the league had proposed banning in-game spitting, high-fives and clubhouses showers to help prevent the spread of coronavirus.
“Wait, what?” Blackmon said to Sports Illustrated . “I’m 100 percent gonna spit. That’s ingrained in my playing the game. Whether or not I’m dipping or chewing gum, I’m still gonna spit. I have to occupy my mind. It’s like putting things on autopilot. You see it like with (Giants outfielder) Hunter Pence, where he would constantly be adjusting his uniform. I don’t have this idle time where my consciousness wanders. I fill my time with thought processes that are like a cruise control.”
Wait, what?
Throughout his nine-year career, Blackmon has shown the ability to do it all. In 2017, he reached highs in home runs (37), RBI (104) and average (.331), the latter of which earned him the NL batting title. He also became the first player in history to lead the majors in hits (213), runs (137), triples (14) and total bases (383) in the same season.
And now he leads us to believe he couldn’t have done any of it had he been forced to go about his business like most of us go about ours — without horking something or other onto the ground?
Of more serious business, as part of the extension he signed a couple of years ago Blackmon was in line to make $21 million this season. That’s when the season was scheduled to be the usual 162 games. Now, because of the global pandemic that hit during spring training, the league is shooting for an 82-game campaign that starts with fireworks on July 4, which would be a wonderful thing, if only for our mental well-being.
Not so much for Blackmon, but also better than nothing.
Under MLB’s first proposal to the players on Tuesday, the owners steered clear of an idea that reportedly had been bandied about in which they would ask players to waive their wages for a 50-50 revenue split. Instead, they suggested a sliding scale of compensation that would hit the highest-paid pitchers and batters the hardest.
Blackmon’s $21-million haul would suddenly become less than $6 million. How’s that for a spit in the face?
An example of how the proposal affects both ends of the scale is shown on cbssports.com: Yankees ace Gerrit Cole’s full season salary of $36 million would become $18.22 million prorated over 82 games, and then $8.06 million with the sliding salary scale, which is a total pay reduction of 77.6 percent.
By comparison, Yankees backup catcher Kyle Higashioka was slated to pull in $579,200 this season. His 82-game prorated salary would be $294,175, while his sliding scale salary became $269,300, for a total pay reduction of 53.5 percent.
The union was said to be “disappointed” with the proposal.
“This season is not looking promising,” tweeted Mets pitcher Marcus Stroman, the former Blue Jay who’s generally not happy unless he’s pissed about something.
To take sides in such negotiations, many of us often go with the players. They are the talent. Without them there is no game.
Besides, nobody ever believes the numbers from an owner’s cooked-book. The billionaires are always crying poor and then somehow finding ways to sign a new slugger or ace to multi-year deals worth more than they originally paid for the franchise.
And nobody in any line of work is going to take a 20 percent salary cut without kicking up a stink, never mind one that’s closer to 80 percent.
But let’s be real here.
Last month, when the MLB season was supposed to begin, the U.S. unemployment rate jumped to 14.7 percent, the highest level since the Great Depression. Abruptly losing their jobs because of COVID-19 were 20.5 million Americans.
More recent reports indicate that 36 million citizens in the U.S. of A. are now unemployed, while another three million filed for benefits during a one-week span in mid-May. Official figures show that 40 percent of low-earning families have lost a breadwinner.
The economy is an absolute mess.
Also real is that 65 percent of MLB players make less than $1 million, and with prorated pay the haircut they’re being asked to take is closer to 15 percent.
That’s not so bad, all things considered.
In order for an Independence Day start, spring training 2.0 has to start around June 15. Quite likely the owners were strategic in delaying their proposal to when it was delivered, a couple of weeks later than expected, because they knew the players would balk.
In turn, the hired help winds up in this position — take what you’re offered or don’t, and come across as greedy when a large portion of the fan base is left asking for government help just to live.
It’s tough to feel sorry for a guy whose salary has been cut to $8 million — or even someone who is only going to bring in a quarter of a million — when so many are just hoping to stay employed.
At the end of the day, making anything is a lot better than making nothing, which is exactly what the players will get if the season is wiped out.
In this pandemic money war between MLB and MLBPA, that feels very much like where things are headed. Then Charlie Blackmon can spit all he wants sitting at home on his front porch, watching a year of his career go by.
He and his union brothers will look pretty dopey if that is allowed to happen.
Copyright Postmedia Network Inc., 2020
