Put cold-hearted baseball leaders on ice

SHELTON E-mail: Click here Archive

© St. Petersburg Times
published July 16, 2002

As plans go, this one is foolproof. Which, as they say, is the point.

It's a simple plan, really. The risk is low, the reward is high, and the result is a tasty treat that we all can enjoy.

First, however, there is a problem.

How, exactly, do we convince John-Henry Williams that Bud Selig is, in fact, his father?

And, immediately afterward, that Don Fehr is his mother?

Yes, it is time we urged John-Henry, Mr. Freeze, to come out of the cooler and stop his misguided attempt to turn his father, the late, great Ted Williams, into a strawberry parfait. It is time John-Henry, Captain Cryogen, used his powers for good, not evil. It is time John-Henry, Mr. Misty, picked a better target.

Bud, for instance.

And furthermore, Don.

Zap them. Now. Freeze them. Ice them. Chill them. Slurpee them. Do not thaw them until the medical advancements of future generations have invented a cure for "annoying."

I don't know about you, but frankly, I'm worn down by the rhetoric. I'm tired of listening to Selig tell me about what a terrible, awful business he's in. I'm tired of listening to Fehr tell me about all the grand sacrifices his millionaires have made over the years.

You want to strike, guys? Go ahead. Put the entire game on ice. Do it now. I mean it. Right now. Take the balls. Take the bats. Go home.

More and more, baseball is getting this response. Nobody cares. Look around. How many people do you know love the game more than they did 10 years ago? Now, how many love it less? This should be the most frightening thing of all for those who run baseball; taking it away isn't so frightening anymore.

Here's how bad it is. Most of us agree with much of what Selig has to say, and he has still alienated us. That takes some doing, to say things everyone agrees with in such a manner that you still tick people off. Yes, baseball is in a laughable economic state. There is no competitive balance. The game cries out for the revenue sharing that has benefited the NFL so greatly.

Yet, it says everything about Selig's leadership that even with such compelling arguments on his side, absolutely no one seems to trust him. It isn't enough that two teams might be contracted; Selig wants eight teams to feel nervous. It isn't enough that two might go bankrupt; he wants fans in eight cities to wonder if it's their team.

Selig has this irritating habit of chasing all the wrong arguments -- contraction, relocation, Pete Rose -- until you believe nothing he says. He says a couple of teams are facing bankruptcy, but won't say which ones, which allows a dozen or so to twist in the wind. Bud likes wind-twisting.

As a leader, here's what Selig is. He's a 7-7 tie in the All-Star Game. Freeze him.

Then there is Fehr, who makes the sound of a cash register whenever he hiccups. He's about the greater contract, not the greater good. It matters not if the game is on fire. Turn him into a milk shake.

Let's face it. For those of us who live in the lower-caste markets of baseball, the game has been on strike since about 1997. Frankly, the threat of a strike isn't keeping people up nights.

Who knows? Maybe a long-term strike, an ice age, so to speak, would be a good thing. After all, it isn't baseball that's at fault; it's the guys who run it. Maybe we should just contract them and start over.

It starts with John-Henry, Captain Coldheart. After all, it's about time his head thawed out, don't you think?

By now, you know all about John-Henry, Vanilla Ice, and his current scheme of turning his pop into a sickle. What? Was he a big fan of Captain America, who spent a few years in an iceberg himself? Does he think future generations will come up with a cure for being dead?

It is a sad story, of course, and one that will redefine what future generations think of Ted Williams. No longer will he be thought of as a great story, just as a punch line. With one lamebrain decision, Williams went from Teddy Ballgame to Chilly Willy.

Because of that, it's hard to see John-Henry, Iceman, as anything other than an opportunistic cretin.

This is his chance. He can don the mask, put on the uniform and do us all some good.

He can chill Mike Tyson. And Bill Romanowski. And Najeh Davenport and Mark Cuban and Allen Iverson and Mark Chmura and so on.

But, um, start with Bud and Don. And be careful. You're dealing with cold-blooded creatures here.

Bring plenty of ice.

© 2006 • All Rights Reserved • Tampa Bay Times
490 First Avenue South • St. Petersburg, FL 33701 • 727-893-8111

Contact the Times | Privacy Policy
Standard of Accuracy | Terms, Conditions & Copyright