Baseball is no longer my favorite sport.
Not because of stadiums slapped with idiotic corporate titles or artificial turf with more holes in it than Pittsburgh's middle infield. Nor because of designated hitters never getting dirty, or that Atlanta Braves' curt closer John Rocker just gets too dirty when he does have something to say.
Instead, I give up on baseball because of its pampered babies.
Guys like Frank Thomas and Gary Sheffield and Barry Bonds and Sammy Sosa are quickly morphing America's pastime into an arena of outrageous bickering over whose paycheck should be fattest.
Boo hoo, said Thomas, Chicago's DH fixture, when he realized that his contract — which was signed in September 1997 — no longer compares to the startling 2001 incomes of Texas' Alex Rodriguez and New York's Derek Jeter ($25.2 million and $18.9 million, respectively).
Thomas, although slated to make $9.9 million in each of the next six seasons for playing solely one side of the field, thought his contract should be reevaluated and eventually changed because of Rodriguez's whopping 10-year, $252 million deal.
Not so quick, Big Baby. The Sox said you weren't getting another copper coin.
Thomas, along with Sheffield, Bonds and Sosa — all of whom did not report to spring training with bells on — must realize the finality of signing a contract. Thomas should have realized that when he John Hancock'ed that contract in 1997 that baseball salaries might not remain stable. And, it's safe to say that baseball salaries will remain as stable as dot.com stocks in the future.
With that being said, it's time for all of the major sports — but baseball in particular — to consider a bold move.
It's time to do away with guaranteed contracts and long-term deals. More often than not, either the athlete or the organization tries to prematurely end a deal via trade, waiver, injury, retirement, or reconstruction of the original contract. Let's stop this insanity and blatant disregard to the fundamental idea of a contract by mandating shorter contracts.
Ideally, one-year deals would work best. That way, if Thomas bats .276 and only knocks 18 dingers, he'd be compensated accordingly. And conversely, if the Big Baby flirts with .375 all season long and smashes 50-plus homers, he'd be swimming in even more loot next year.
But I realize one-year deals will be stomped by the Players' Union faster than Rocker runs from a Taco Bell in downtown New York City. But nevertheless, Major League Baseball and every other major sport organization needs to strongly consider severely shortening the average contract.
By doing so, fewer labor disputes will occur, which undoubtedly mars the game's less-than-perfect image. And, it will create a new breed of competition within the league, as All-Stars will no longer be complacent hitting .275 as long as that $4 million check reaches the bank teller.
Imagine: Baseball's babies would begin to live life just like their hard-working, middle-class fan base — paycheck to paycheck. A bad year by Jeter would cancel that pre-planned, off-season trip to Bermuda, as well as another swimming pool in his west wing.
And, what's more is that surging rookies and backside-splintered never-have-been's could have one break out year and get their payday too. But, of course, if the potent play doesn't continue, neither would the big bills.
What's most depressing about all of MLB's recent labor disputes is that, in all likelihood, nothing will be done to ease player-organization tensions in the future.
Instead, Thomas, Sheffield, Bonds, Sosa, Rodriguez and Jeter will play on opening day knowing full-well that their everyday play only counts when it's time to renegotiate or sign another deal. That's where the term "contract year" stemmed from.
Either way, baseball is no longer my favorite sport, and it shouldn't be yours either.
But that's just my opinion.
