Revenue Sharing Will Allow Meek To Inherit The Field

Before boarding the Iron Horse for spring training and the Arizona desert, there are several items to be cleared from the desk. It’s hoped hereafter the subjects won’t be money or labor negotiations but rookie phenoms, pennant chances, veteran warriors trying for a comeback and the like.

Until then there is the matter of Ken Griffey’s record-breaking contract. Starting with the 1997 season, the Seattle superstar will be baseball’s highest-paid player with an annual average four-year guaranteed salary of $8.5 million, surpassing by $1.2 million the wage of San Francisco’s Barry Bonds, the current leader.

The Players Association, as could be expected, is delighted a new plateau will be reached and with justification believes the day of the $10-million player is approaching quickly. The owners, also as expected, are steaming quietly, principally because the salary-arbitration procedure, now in progress, is based on comparative salaries. As the scale escalates, the fallout affects all the players and all the clubs.

As Jerry Reinsdorf of the White Sox said several years ago, “This is the only business where all of us have to pay because of the mistakes of one or two of our partners.”

The latest example occurred Friday when American League MVP Mo Vaughn of the Boston Red Sox, who had filed for arbitration, announced he had agreed to a three-year deal in excess of $18 million. Because Vaughn’s 1995 wage was $2.725 million, a comparative pittance, it can be assumed his agent was keying off Griffey’s haul.

Worse, in the view of the big-market clubs, is the realization the Mariners, a small-market operation that never has had money to burn, are betting on the come. The Seattle management is well aware owners’ revenue sharing is just around the corner.Because of this the Mariners could receive a yearly poor-house contribution of anywhere from $3 million to $6 million from the well-to-do. Some owners estimate the donation could be as much as $9 million. In other words, George Steinbrenner of the Yankees, along with his other well-heeled baseball brethren, will be paying much of Griffey’s salary.

The concept of revenue sharing is not new. The late Bill Veeck, when he operated the lowly St. Louis Browns a half century ago, insisted the visiting clubs were entitled to a slice of the local TV pie. Without the Browns as an opponent, Veeck reasoned, the Yankees wouldn’t have a show. Veeck’s plea went unanswered.

It wasn’t until fairly recently that revenue sharing became a genuine concern. This was when Steinbrenner signed a 12-year contract with the Madison Square Garden cable network that dumped $500 million into his lap.

Before this nobody had envisioned such a financial blizzard. You can guess the rest. Steinbrenner’s colleagues said, in effect, “C’mon, you have to pass some around.”

With Steinbrenner tied to a post, revenue sharing was approved, providing a beneficial agreement could be worked out with the Players Association: the top-third clubs with the largest revenue stream would help subsidize the bottom third.

But the Griffey signing has added a new perspective: strengthening an opponent. If the trend continues, and it certainly will, supposed “competitive balance” would be assured. The disparity between rich and poor would be minimal. All 28 clubs would have an equal chance to win a flag.

Here’s possibly a better idea. Instead of embracing socialism, the bottom clubs, when playing their wealthy neighbors, should be spotted two runs. If Montreal is engaging Atlanta, the Expos should begin play with a 2-0 lead. This would balance competition and also strike a blow for capitalism.

Last season the five clubs with the highest player payrolls also had the largest gross revenues. The same was true, in reverse, with the five smallest money-making clubs.

Said a top-echelon executive, “For the first time since anybody has been keeping records they lined up precisely.”

The player payroll for the top five, on an average, was $50 million; for the bottom five, $20 million. Obviously there is cause for some concern, but a pennant can not be manipulated. To use a crude phrase, there have been many instances when “the hungry dog runs the fastest.”

Still, there is this question: Is Griffey worth $8.5 million? At first glance, no. But on second thought, why not? He is the best all-around player, maybe the best since Willie Mays. If anybody is entitled to the top dollar, Griffey should be No. 1.

The Mariners could have split the difference between the Griffey and Bonds salaries. This would have brought Griffey in at $7.9 million, a saving of about $600,000. But who cares? Steinbrenner and the other seven or eight top-revenue clubs will be paying.