Did you see the Super Bowl weekend? Heckuva game, huh? Well, did you notice who was playing? Tennessee and St. Louis. Is there anything strange about these two teams being in the Super Bowl?
True, it's interesting that both squads were in other cities five years ago, but I was thinking more of the fact that neither team is in a major media market. With apologies to any offended citizens of two such fine states as Missouri and Tennessee, your football teams are as insignificant in New York and Los Angeles as are Bill Bradley and John McCain among their parties' superdelegates.
That said, you from the Super States definitely have the right to be offended, but the fact remains that this Super Bowl was a triumph of the little guy. Even going back to the Conference Championship games -- where the Minnesota Vikings and Jacksonville Jaguars were eliminated -- there was no team with a tremendous audience the suits at ABC could hope would win and justify the three-million-dollar-per-half-minute ads they had sold.
The New York Jets, pre-season favorites to win the AFC, fell short of a .500 season. The New York Giants and Chicago Bears never had a prayer.The Oakland Raiders were playing the quarterback shuffle -- again -- while the Detroit Lions were trying to replace one of the best running backs in history. While both teams enjoyed some success, neither were Super Bowl bound.
This left a couple of clubs from mid-sized cities -- by professional sports standards, anyway -- vying in the single biggest American sporting event.
And I had to ask myself why. Not why I was bothering to watch a game of perennial also-rans but why such an event could never take place in major league baseball.
What, you were expecting a column about football?
One might cleverly answer my 'why' question by saying the state of Tennessee has no big league baseball team and so a phantom team couldn't possibly make the World Series. That aside, the reason football can pit the Rams versus the Titians whereas baseball replays Atlanta against New York every year is that the National Football League has a salary cap. If you'll pardon the pun, there's a more level playing field.
It's a pretty simple concept really. If New York can't spend twice as much on a linebacker as Jacksonville, the player might just play in the smaller market. The big teams can't afford to field an all-star at every position because they can only pay five or six proven stars at best.
In baseball, your team either has a $60 million payroll or you're going to be free for Octoberfest. A collection of several big market clubs have ripped off the Montreal Expos more times in the last five years than Bill Clinton has been unfaithful in that same period. Think about that.
So what does this all mean? It means, if we ever again want to see the Minnesota Twins and Florida Marlins in the League Championship Series challenging the New York Mets or the Boston Red Sox, there had better be some creative finance work done soon in favor of the smaller teams.
One option is to cap player salaries. The strategy has clearly worked for the NFL and to a lesser extent in the NBA. (Since in pro basketball a team only needs one or two big stars to win -- and teams in big cities seem to possess most of these rare specimens -- a cap that allows teams to hang onto a couple of pricey point-scorers only goes so far). If baseball teams could pay no more than $50 million for their entire 25-man roster -- a reasonable $2 million on average per player -- the game would be a lot more "fair."
Another option is a much more severe revenue sharing plan than under the current collective bargaining agreement. Currently the biggest spenders pay the cheapest teams a paltry "luxury tax." If teams spending over $40 million dollars on their roster had to pay a $40 million dollar tax and teams spending more than $50 million likewise had to match their investment and pay it to MLB, there would probably be a lot fewer teams running up their tabs at the expense of the Kansas City's and Pittsburgh's of the world.
Finally, baseball in addition could employ a tactic that has worked for achieving greater parity in the amount paid to individual players in the NBA. MLB could cap the salaries of individual players at, say, $8 million a year. Or the cap could be based on years spent in the league -- as in the NBA -- or on statistical performance or even on how well players do in voting by fellow players, managers and baseball executives.
The exact system can be worked out, the reform is what's important. And you thought you only heard stuff like that in politics.
