Baseballhead:
Return to Alcatraz

Michael Cox

Hello again, my friends, and allow me to be the last to wish you a happy new year. It's the first Baseballhead of 2001, and in case you're wondering where I was, they've been working on the next series of Temptation Island, where they try to get me to leave my coffeemaker for a big plate of cheese nachos.

You might have noticed some subtle changes to the old back forty. After a herculean effort to whip some 1600-odd pre-Rivals HTML pages into shape, the entire Strikethree.com story archive is finally online. You can again peruse every single word we've ever written, all the way back to 1998, and see just how all of our predictions have worked out.

Laugh at how we thought all Griffey required was more marketing. Chortle as the Dodgers were predicted to win the NL West. Wet your drawers as MLB made repeated attempts to enforce the strike zone rule (what -- they're trying it again this year? Clip 'n' save!).

But I digress...what am I talking about? Digressing is my specialty! Still, we really should move on to the expected whimsical take on the baseball issues of the day.

To wit, it's arbitration time again! What does it mean? It means George Steinbrenner has yet another opportunity to continue perhaps the most expensive bungle he's ever been party to (bankrupt family business aside): Derek Jeter's contract. Every year Steinbrenner has an opportunity to lock Jeter into a long-term deal at the going rate; every year Steinbrenner refuses; every year Jeter punishes Da Boss either at the arbitration table, or last year with a record one-year deal for a shortstop to avoid arbitration.

Then, adding self-inflicted insult to self-inflicted injury, every year the going rate gets higher. This season Jeter is asking for $18M in arbitration, and thanks to his best friend he just may get it.

Of course, the seeds to this particular cash-eating Venus flytrap were sown back in '98 when despite Nomar Garciaparra's $23M deal, Steinbrenner simply renewed Jeter's contract at $750,000. Outwardly irked by the team's unwillingness to deal, Jeter has been making Steinbrenner pay ever since. Had the Yanks simply matched Nomar's deal, they could take the money they're going to spend on Jeter and buy Guam.

On second thought, who cares? It's much more fun to watch Jeter drain funds out of the Yanks' imaginary budget as Steinbrenner pretends he can't afford a long-term deal. Better than Cats, and you can quote me!

Second on the agenda is this year's Hall of Fame selections, which yet again indicate that perhaps a few too many baseball writers are practicing gonzo journalism. Seriously, the problem is twofold: First, the writers have only refused to elect anyone to the Hall once in the past 30 years. Knowing the smug pompousness of the average beat writer, there is apparently a feeling that by electing players to the Hall, said writers can tell their grandkids that it was they, and not all those career strikeouts and no-hitters, that made Nolan Ryan immortal.

Second, this year we were faced with the unfortunate circumstance of having a legendary nice guy and a Yankee "great" on the ballot. For all of Kirby Puckett's achievements, he was nothing more than a very good player. Had he not charmed all who met him, and then developed career-ending glaucoma, he would not be enshrined. Puckett's actual abilities on the field are not Hall of Fame-caliber.

The odd thing is that I don't begrudge Puckett the honor. He continues to work to promote baseball even in retirement, and who couldn't love that face! Nevertheless, his upcoming induction does much to buttress my yearly argument that Edgar Martinez should make the Hall easily, and when he doesn't it will be because professional baseball writers are the last people you should trust to assess the quality of players.

Then there's Dave Winfield. He has 3,000 hits and was a Yankee. 'Nuff said, except for the few drunk writers who thought they were voting for the actor Dave Winfield.

And final kudos to one of my personal favorite ballplayers of all time, John Kruk, whose name appeared on exactly one Hall of Fame ballot. My guess is that in the Kruk household it was a great excuse to have a beer.

On a more sinister note, Bud Selig managed to convince the other owners this week that his "competitive balance draft" proposal was more than a pile of crap. Sometimes I wonder how long Selig thinks these things through -- if his own Brewers were to luck into a winning season this year, they'd lose their top minor-leaguer afterward. Meanwhile, if the draft had been in effect this year, the AL Champion New York Mets would give up no one, because they had the ninth-best record in baseball during the season.

We won't even discuss how little the loss of a prospect will harm the Yankees or the Braves. Proving once again that he may be partying a bit too much with the baseball writers, with this proposal Selig is targeting not the richest teams as he has claimed he wants to do, but the best teams. Sometimes they're the same, sometimes (anyone say '87 and '91 Twins?) they're not.

The worst part is that, because this proposal will get prospects to teams where they're more likely to get serious big-league service time (and therefore more money), the players' union is sure to approve it. Bud Selig is, in my opinion (hi lawyers), a raging idiot who must be forced out of office before he does irreparable harm to the game. Write your congressperson and demand an objective commissioner. Argh.

So, how 'bout that Kirby Puckett?

about the author

Michael Cox loves his Kirby Puckett autographed bat. Suggest that he likely used the Metrodome seats he bought as much as most Minneapolis-based fans at mc@strikethree.com.