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JIM STEELE COLUMN FOR WEDNESDAY, JULY 9, 2003

From the
Upper Deck

At What Price Baseball?

By Jim Steele
steele@mckenziebanner.com
  
The All-Star break is nigh and at this time of the mid-season classic, it's time for an assessment of this grand game of baseball.

As you (two or three) regular readers of this corner of the paper already know, baseball is near and dear to me.

No, it is.

Really.

I mean it.

But there are trends at the professional level that I find alarming. And there are things worth pondering. Lest you wonder, there will not be a Q & A session afterward.

Shall we begin?

For starters, people blame the players for the confiscatory prices charged by Major League teams. Let's not kid ourselves; the players are certainly worthy of scorn, but the owners are foolish enough to pay the rather usurious rates. Then the owners try to pass the costs off to the fans. It's $3.50 for a hotdog, another 3 bucks for a soft drink, $5 for a beer (so I'm told).

Let's go to Turner Field in Atlanta. If you want to bring a family of four to the game, you could conceivably do it for $4. That's in the "skyline" section, where dollar tickets are sold just before game time. But bring your mitt. Not for the foul balls; rather to snag the Hubble telescope because that's what you are going to need to see the action on the field from up there.

Say hello to the folks occupying the International Space Station while you are at it.

If you want to sit in the lower section, expect to spend at least $21 per seat.

At Busch in St. Louis, the cheapest lower level seats I could find are $25 each. At The Great American Ballpark in Cincinnati, Diamond Seats, those directly behind the plate, are $225 each. Hmmm...I'll sell my blood, strike oil and invent a cure for cancer, then maybe just maybe I can afford that. The cheapest lower level seats are $20. Now you can see a game at Cincy for $9, but remember to borrow the Hubble scope from that dude in Atlanta.

Really, it's not fault of the owners or players. Agents seem to be the great Satan here. Owners are just too chicken to tell them to buzz off, because if they do, MLB Players Association thug Donald Fehr will march in yelling "collusion."

* Next, it's too easy to hit home runs these days. MLB pitchers are hurling leather-coated super balls at juiced up power hitters.

Soon, 500 homers won't be enough of a benchmark for hall of fame consideration. Homers are too easy to come by in this era. But owners think the nouveaux baseball fans are enthralled by the long ball, mammoth home runs and Hulk-like shortstops who hit 50 shots a year. True baseball fans are more interested in the nuances of the game.

They enjoy the individual battles that go on in this team sport, a sport where even though you are often going nine-against-one, that one has a chance to beat you. Interested in the nuances of baseball? Read George Will's book, "Men at Work."

  • I've already whipped the interleague-play equine carcass. No need to go there.
     
  • The over-the-air networks have screwed up baseball on TV. I remember when Curt Gowdy did the game of the week every Saturday from April to October. Now we are tormented with soccer, golf and auto racing. No wonder our kids would rather be Evel Kneivel on skateboards these days. That's all they are seeing on Saturdays.

    The only pitching you see on Saturday TV these days is Ron Popiel pitching one of his dubious gadgets.
     
  • Day-night doubleheaders tend to boil my blood. It's lousy for the players and the fans. Owners are too cheap to give away free innings. So instead of buying one ticket, normally priced, to see two games, like they did when I was a kid - and when my dad was a kid for that matter - you have to leave the premises, buy ANOTHER ticket and come back later.

Instead of letting fans in free after the seventh inning, the gates are scrutinized. Even impoverished South Side kids can't see their heroes in the last three innings at Comiskey. Owners want to squeeze every penny they can.

Soon, ballparks are going to be full of corporate coats and ties toting clients to dugout-level seats and owners will wonder why the park is so quiet and the upper decks so empty. It's because these uninterested big wigs and their clients are sitting on their hands while club-toting and missile-hurling millionaires parade before them in the pastoral playground of the ballyard.

But we fans will keep going back. We'll numb ourselves to the hideous off-season payroll estimates, substance abuses and character flaws and keep going. Because it's baseball, no matter what Bud Selig does to screw it up.

 

 
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2003
Steele
Column
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Phone (731) 352-3323 or Fax (731) 352-3322
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