How the Union Could Win Over the Public
This offseason, clearly, has been defined both by inactivity and an attempt to understand it. As free agents sit home just days before pitchers and catchers are scheduled to report, baseball and its fans have engaged in a conversation about economics and worth, value and spending. For some, inherent to that conversation is a sense that players ought to be content with what they have, that front offices presented with aging sluggers and hurlers have their hands tied. Voices as estimable as Bill James have endeavored to distance ball players from those who do so-called “real work.” Others have posited that owners are just being smart, and that really, don’t grown men playing a game make too much compared to the rest of us already? They aren’t teachers or firefighters, after all.
Players and analysts often seem surprised by this reaction. How can normal folks side with billionaires over millionaires? The incredulity is understandable: when moved to attribute avarice to strangers, it seems as if those with billions would make for more compelling targets. We get worked up over it, furious at the dearth of solidarity, fearful for what it might mean for other, less public struggles that involve our friends and neighbors.
But I wonder if we haven’t made a mistake. We’ve assumed that the sides are clear. But I think most fans don’t see millionaires pitted against billionaires; I think most fans don’t see the owners much at all.
Players stretch out over green fields. They thump home runs. They give us little bits of themselves to take with us. But players also leave. They give themselves to new people, people who aren’t our folks, who live in different places. They do that to us, or that’s how it can feel. The fan’s relationship with a player must necessarily be flexible. Players are a source of great fun and joy, but also embodiments of frustration. Fans weave those feelings, those experiences, together into a fabric in which we can cloak ourselves, a name across our backs, but one which is also liable to be pulled taut and ripped apart when we perceive conflict with the name on the front.