Lords of the Realm by John Helyar Villard, 1994 Have you ever felt distanced by hot stove discussions about the economics of baseball? Get back in the game by reading Lords of the Realm by John Helyar. John Helyar relates the labor-relations aspect of the game in a down to earth manner by focusing on the personalities of the owners, their contract negotiators, the player representatives, and the leaders of the player's union. The result is an interesting and easy to understand history of the labor relations movement in major league baseball.

Many fans of "small-market" teams complain about the impossibility of competing against "large-market" franchises in today's free-agent environment. However, some of the small-market teams are responsible for the environment upon which they cannot compete.

The Kansas City Royals have helped escalate salaries. They pioneered the lifetime contracts by tying deals to George Brett and Dan Quisenberry to Avron Fogelman's real-estate holdings, then were left holding the bag on the guarantees when the real-estate went belly-up. A few years later, in 1990, Ewing Kauffman splurged on free-agents Mark Davis, Storm Davis, and Richard Dotson. Recall that this was shortly after collusion. The Royals helped prove the player's case by driving up salaries, and they further shot themselves in the foot by signing three pitchers who were no longer effective.

During most player strikes, I've always been partial to the owners. How could anyone side with greedy millionaire ballplayers who are demanding even more money? Helyar lets the reader in on a dirty secret: the owners ran a very good public relations campaign. The owners used their good will with the beat writers to leak biased columns that blasted the union for their disrespect to the game. Miller effectively counterattacked by timely communicating all updates through a large network of player representatives. This enabled the players to remain unswayed by the propaganda written by daily newspapers.

Its not that the players and Marvin Miller were always on the right side of the fence, either. When the owners were found guilty of collusion of 1986 and 1987, a baseball fan was again left to ponder of the absurdity of the situation. If the owners PAID free agents large salaries, they were escalating the market. If the owners chose not to put their hat in the ring, they were colluding. The owners couldn't win.

Yet, it was the owners who backed themselves into this corner. Helyar explains that it was the owners who insisted on a "No-Collusion" clause in the labor contract. They recalled the Great Holdout of 1966, when Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale tried to negotiate their contracts in tandem. The owners didn't have the foresight to see that collusion could be used against them a few years later.

After the union exposed the owners of collusion, the owners spent like drunken fools the following winter. They must have wanted to improve their relationship with the player's union by making it easy for them to prove heavy damages during collusion.

The owners mishandling of collusion is just one example of the owner's inability to handle labor relations. Consider the first players' holdout in 1972. Marvin Miller was going to recommend that the players accept the owner's final pension proposal before spring training. Miller reasoned that he would need the players to be united for bigger issues down the road. Miller wasn't sure the players were ready to strike for pensions.

Before Miller was able to recommend anything to his union, Gussie Busch uttering the infamous "Not another damn cent." phrase in response to a reporter's question about how far the owners were willing to bend on pensions. Professional athletes are exceptional because of their competitive drive, and Gussie stiffened the player's resolve by stirring their competitive juices.

Miller found his position was buttressed by a united labor union. Meanwhile, the owners found their own resolve had weakened as clients refused to purchase advertising for games that weren't going to be played.

Every few years, these events replayed themselves. The players would threaten a work stoppage. The owners would draw a line in the sand. Some games would be cancelled. Eventually, the owners would cave. The five hundred players would listen to Marvin Miller and their union stewards, presenting a united force in all contract negotiations. The owners were unable to back any one of their negotiators.

Since Helyar wrote Lord of the Realms, baseball experienced a protracted strike in 1994. The players did agree to some minor concessions after the 1994 strike, which have had little effect on their earning power. The owners are still complaining that more needs to be done to save the franchises with small television revenues, yet they refuse to help the situation by sharing revenues.

The owners have yet to learn the lessons of Lords of the Realm. The players aren't obligated to help the owners control costs. It's up to the owners to control themselves. The owners want to act as thirty individuals who seek to maximize their own individual profits, while they expect the players to prop the weaker franchises.

Thirty years of failure in labor relations have yet to convinced the owners that THEY need to think as a league. A professional league is only as strong as its weakest franchise.

Lords of the Realm is not only an excellent book for any baseball fan to read, it should be required reading for the owners, who have yet to understand the dynamics of labor-management relations. After the games, and the box scores, and the transactions, player movement, free agency, and the business of baseball are a major part of the national pastime.

Lords of the Realm may be available for purchase on the net at one of these sites.

--Royal Rooter, March 3, 1999

© 1999 Rob Homa