From the
Upper Deck
At What Price Baseball?
By Jim Steele
steele@mckenziebanner.com |
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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. |