Bring on the strike, and pronto

SHELTON E-mail: Click here Archive

© St. Petersburg Times
published August 22, 2002

As your days of infamy go, it is difficult not to grow more and more irritated with the notion of Aug. 30 becoming one of them.

I don't know about you, but every time I hear someone talk about shutting baseball down in another week, it just corks my bat. It is arrogant. It is stupid. It is blind.

Most of all, it is too far away.

That's the major problem with baseball's problems. We have to put up with too much noise before they attempt to do something about it. The players want to strike? Fine. Which door should I hold open?

Strike now. Today. This morning. Don't worry about the gloves and the bats. The clubhouse guys will take care of them. Just go. Do you need some help with the luggage? Go. Just, please, go quietly.

No, this isn't sarcasm. It isn't anger. It isn't frustration. I'm just weary of Bud Selig wandering around, telling all of us about the problems of his sport. He has become as annoying as that phone guy who keeps saying "Can you hear me now? Good." Only with Bud, it's "Can you hear how the game is doing? Bad."

Don Fehr? I'm tired of him, too, posturing as if the owners were the coal-bosses who wanted to send workers back into the mines 22 hours a day, armed only with a pigeon in a cage. Frankly, I liked Fehr a lot better back when he was doing movie reviews with the late Gene Siskel.

I'm even tired of the designated arbiter of the day. One day it's George Bush, the next it's Billy Crystal, the next it's a roomful of Hall of Famers who are pleading with baseball to continue. One question: Do you think either the owners or the players could name any of those Hall of Famers if they weren't wearing name tags? Me either.

So go ahead, strike. Please. And don't come back until this is a sport again.

This strike announcement shouldn't leave you angry, and it shouldn't leave you depressed. Most of all, it shouldn't leave you surprised. What it should make you do is point your finger and laugh at the clowns who can't divide up a stack of money from here to Mir. This is funny stuff. Remember the great scene in Blazing Saddles where Sheriff Bart gets the crowd to back off by pointing a gun at his own head? That's baseball.

Here's the truth. I don't worry about the beginning of this strike, I worry about its end. I worry that it will be a lot of noise while nothing changes. The common theme with all the work stoppages before this one is this: The sport never improves. Hey, if you can promise me a level playing field on the other side, a sport where small-market teams can win a title if they're smart enough and lucky enough, I'll bring lemonade to the picket lines.

Let's face it. For a very long time, the sport of baseball has been a competition held largely for the entertainment of fans fortunate enough to live in New York City. Hey, nothing against New York. I, too, get allergic smelling hay. It's just that I think the bulk of the league should be something more than Washington General franchises. Baseball is like watching a 30-player Monopoly game in which only one or two players can buy hotels.

Take the Rays, which, if you believe what you read, baseball is pondering. At the moment you could build a good argument this team isn't major league enough to join in on a strike. Without some form of help from the upcoming labor wars, the Rays are doomed to be awful forever, which is amazing considering the simply wonderful job each member of the organization is convinced he or she is doing.

The Rays are a team with no past and a muddled future. Which is why every columnist around the country seems to be offering the Rays up as a contraction sacrifice. Who can blame them? The history of the Rays is responsible for two memories: Wade Boggs' 3,000th hit and the movie The Rookie. Neither one of them sold out.

So shut down the business. This year, next year, the year after. Bring baseball back when it's the sport we love, not the business mess it has become.

Think about it. When is the last time baseball was about a game? From the last out of last year's World Series, we have heard about contraction and bankruptcy and labor problems. We have seen owners spit at each other. Never has a sport worked this hard to make sure you don't embrace it. The other night I was going to watch Field of Dreams, but I was afraid Selig would charge out of the crops with a deranged look, like one of the Children of the Corn, and tell me about how much fertilizer costs.

Okay, smart guy, you're thinking, "What about the people who still love baseball despite its acne? What about the fans who are wildly interested in which stars the Yankees pluck from bad franchises for their pennant run?" (If Damn Yankees happened today, the Yanks simply would purchase Joe Hardy for two prospects and a sack of a cash.)

Well, I have an idea for some different baseball broadcasting. Instead of the Game of the Day, we could have:

1) A game show. I call it: Who's on the Juice? A panel of experts examines three major-league players a week and tries to determine what steroids may be inside. Rick Reilly could host, with Jose Canseco in the Vanna White role. (I don't know about you, but I suspect Rays outfielder Jason Tyner, now in the minors, to be the most steroid-free guy in the game.)

2) We ship Fehr and Selig into space, with only enough rocket fuel for one man to return. I call it: Survivor: Mars.

3) A courtroom drama: The Trial of Pete Rose. I'm serious here. You get a real judge, real attorneys, a real jury. Both sides agree to open all the evidence. Bring in gambling experts, witnesses, handwriting experts. Once and for all, we hear everything. If Pete wins he gets onto the Hall of Fame ballot. If he loses they march him outside and strip off his uniform and break his bat across a knee, just like Jason McCord in Branded. With Greta van Susteren and Jim Gray as the Court-TV analysts.

Hey, we were interested in O.J., weren't we?

4. Twelve Angry Men. The bottom two teams in each division gather in a room to discuss George Steinbrenner. Also, George discusses back.

5. Football. Did you notice the season is coming up?

Good luck with your strike, guys. Let me know how it all turns out, will you?

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