August 31, 2002

THE FANS MUST BE LISTENED TO

      Steve Kline, Cardinal reliever and team player rep—and former Expo, had this to say upon learning that an agreement had been reached and a strike averted.  “It came down to us playing baseball or having our reputations and life ripped by the fans.  Baseball would never have been the same.”     

      For the first time the players were not ready to strike.  They would have walked if the owners took their usual belligerent and demanding stance; fortunately for the baseball world Jerry Reinsdorf, the belligerent White Sox owner, wasn’t at the head of the ownership committee, this time his voice was silent.  This time the owners kept the belligerence to a minimum.  Ol’ Bud even stayed away from the proceedings, ordered the other owners away, and left the fight with their negotiation team, hoping that without rancour a reasonable agreement could be reached.   The losses incurred by the owners were enough to make them realize that the game was in serious trouble.  Attendance was down; interest was down.  Rancour, though, was at an all time high.  The owners knew full well that another work stoppage could sound the death knell to their business.       

      If both sides of the disagreement knew a stoppage could not take place, then why did it take so long for an agreement to be reached?       

      Simple.  Image.  It was an arm wrestling competition; the goal was for neither side to lose—or even worse appear to lose.  The entire negotiating process was merely a show of strength by both sides to each other.  A damn pissing contest.

       “I think a whole lot of people thought they’d never live long enough to see these two parties come together with a very meaningful deal and do it without one game of a work stoppage,” said Ol’ Bud.     

      Such a self-congratulatory ass.

       The numbers aren’t nearly as dramatic as the owners claimed needed to be implemented.  The luxury tax affects one or two franchises.  Revenue sharing goes up a percentage, and the minimum salary is raised.  The drug testing is a joke.  As if Barry Bonds of Sammy Sosa is going to get caught--not with the number of masking agents available.  And then when the numbers show that steroids aren’t a part of baseball the whole idea will disappear.  A smokescreen to make it appear that baseball is actually doing something about the problem. 

      And who’s paying for all this?

      The fans paid the freight for this fight, and are getting angry about it.  Websites asked for a ‘fan strike’ of the games played the night before the supposed strike deadline.  “The fans are frustrated…we’re here to try and make sure they do get listened to,” says Bob May president of the Baseball Fans Unite International group.       

      Huzzah!!  The fans must be listened to.

      At one time the fight between the players and the owners was important.  It was about the rights of the players as individuals; it was about correcting a badly flawed system and bringing down the economic and the racial barriers.  Now it’s just a fight between cats and dogs, fighting for that last fan dollar.  They are starting to realize that 1994 was too much for the fans to endure-- they went too far with their fight.  The mere possibility that it could occur again brought out the anger in the fans.  It was apparent, the fans were not happy.  And even with an agreement the fans should still not be happy.  The respect is gone.  The feelings fans are being disregarded--they just need to come across with their money and move along, says baseball.  The fans should withhold their dollars until they are certain that fair value will be given in return--that they won’t be treated with either contempt or indifference.       

      The fans must be listened to.        

      Cal Ripken was revered for more than just his legendary play on the field; he was admired and respected as much for the hours he spent signing autographs and talking with the fans.  He knew.  He knew whose hands he needed to shake.  But that show of gratitude was definitely not commonplace among his fellow players—there were five Albert Belles for every Tony Gwynn, and seven Barry Bonds for every Derek Jeter.  Jackass after jackass was paraded out in front of the fans, and usually replied with the jackass salute.  The players had forgotten that the game is actually played for the fans. 

      The only solution is for the fans to withhold that money until they deem that the service provided is fair and equitable.  If the fan believes that the home team and its players hold their interest to their heart then they can pay their money and feel good about it.  How many of those are left? 

      Until the owners and the players learn to respect the fans, thank them for their patronage, for their support, seek their opinions, and improve their attitudes then they should be held accountable for their actions, and for their inactions.  Withhold that money until changes are made.  It is the fans only course of action to ensure that they will be heard.  Instead of ten tickets, buy five... instead of going a dozen times to the ballpark each year go twice.  When the numbers for the season are added up, and the cries of poverty wail across the continent the fans will know that they have won.

      Hold your local team accountable for their actions and for their product as you would your local restaurant and your local grocer.  If the meal is cold, or the milk is sour—send it back.  And if your complaints are not heard—go elsewhere.  Don’t stand for it.

       It’s time to bring these selfish arrogant asses to their knees.