Baghdad Monopoly Or Why You Should Put Yourself In Sal Fasano's Shoes

Money.  Money.  Money.  It's all Monopoly Money.  Pay the guy to get him in here.  To make it you gotta spend it.  Yeah, he's worth it.  Give him what he wants.  Why is ownership so cheap?  These are all the things fans say.  They want the players they want and they want them now.  They believe their teams can afford the guy, so they insist/beg/plead/argue the guy should be paid whatever is needed to get him to play in the city of their favorite team. 

Then he's here.  He's in your city and you're happy and he's happy and the world is a better place for it.  Until something comes up with the player.  Maybe he gets hurt.  Maybe his kid gets sick.  Maybe he finds himself in the middle of a divorce.  Maybe his teammates don't like him so much; he doesn't fit in with them.  Or, very simply, maybe he made a mistake and doesn't like it in your city.  Have any of these situations ever happened to you?  How was your job performance during your personal crisis?

For the MLB player, it doesn't matter.  By getting paid buckets of cash, they are expected by fans to be superhuman.  Because they play a game that fans love to watch and play themselves, the player isn't allowed to have problems.  I mean, how could he?  He makes so much money?  Right?

"I’d play in Baghdad for 1/10th of that loot."

That's what one reader commented to me in the past.  Now, he wouldn't really play baseball in Baghdad for 1/10th of what Alex Cora just signed for the Mets.  That would only be $200,000.  After taxes, agent fees, FICA, benefits, etc., this guy would be bringing home around $100,000.  So, in that case, you, as a fan, would spend 6 months in Baghdad to play baseball?  In that heat.  With personal safety an issue 24/7.  With the potential that you could get killed by some farmers market car bomb.  I know.  He wouldn't really.  The reader's point was that any player who's making millions of dollars should thank his lucky stars, keep his mouth shut, and play.

Here's my question for fans: At what point is the player making so much money that he can never complain about anything in his life?  The question sounds facetious, but it's a valid question.  I'm sure you're thinking Carsten Charles Sabathia and Johan Santana should never, ever say they aren't happy.  But lower the bar.  Those guys are at the top.  What about other guys closer to the bottom?  At what point are they making enough money that they are beyond complaint?  Is it the $2 million Cora's going to make in '09?  Is it $1 million, which Adam Everett's going to make with Minnesota?  Is it the $750,000 Jason Michaels is getting to play next season for Houston?

"BooHoo. Quit your sniveling ,there are thousands of people in low paying jobs who have to put up with abuse all day over their entire careers. The below average player will make more in one season than I made in 33 yrs."

Thanks for another great comment.  The average MLB salary in 2008 was $3 million.  In 2005 (latest U.S. Census figures), the median household income in the United States was $46,000.  Let's multiply 33 times $46,000 and we get $1,518,000.  In this case, the reader is correct.  The average ballplayer will make in less than a full year of work, in gross dollars, twice what the American household will earn in 33 years.

Therefore, we know that if you make $3 million playing baseball, you're not allowed to have any problems.  Apparently, cancer eludes your family.  Autism?  Doesn't touch you.  Workplace injuries?  Well, now you're just taking money from the team for doing nothing.

So much for taking advantage of The American Dream.

My next question is this: Is it the occupation that gives fans the impression a ballplayer can't complain?  If it wasn't a baseball player earning $2.5 million in a year, what if it was a guy who owned his own business in Silicon Valley?  If he told his pals, "My 8-year old has an eating disorder and it's really bothering me," would the pals say, "Shut your trap.  You're making $2.5 million.  I don't want to hear it."

I kind of don't think so.

"My wife got laid off two weeks ago after 17 years with a Fortune 25 company. She made alot more than I do and now has to collect unemployment. Two Bachelor’s Degrees and she’s walking around the house like a zombie, worrying about a mortgage payment, a car payment and keeping the kids in their after school activities.

"Next time you talk to your baseball buddies, Jimmy, ask them if THEY feel sorry for HER."

And then there's the player who signs a Minor League deal.  Guys like Glendon Rusch and Trot Nixon did it this off season.  Former Yankee Chad Moeller signed one with Baltimore.  They don't have guarantees that they'll be working on April 1.  They're just guaranteed the chance.  They might be just like the last reader's wife in the spring: Unemployed.

Or what about the guy who still sits unsigned.  Sal Fasano.  Damian Easley.  Gary Bennett.  Are they allowed to be upset because of the difficulty they're having getting jobs?  Or is it different with them because the jobs they want are baseball jobs.  Because  the nation's unemployment rate is so high, and so many Americans are hurting financially, baseball players get no sympathy wanting to play baseball for a living?  Even though all of their job training has come in the sports industry, it's different for them because it's baseball.  In 11 seasons, Sal Fasano has grossed around $2 million.  That's a little less than $200,000 a year.  I guess he could play in Baghdad for that, but I don't think he'd want to. 

And nor would the average fan.

It's not really Monopoly money, is it?  It's real money and these are real people.  If you had the opportunity to earn lots of money in one year, or over a few years, from a skill you have worked at your entire life, you'd take it.  No doubt.  But baseball is just a job and money is just a paycheck.  There's more to life than those two things. 

So next time you boo at Luis Castillo for grounding out, think about how he feels to hear 45,000 people tell him he stinks, to know hundreds of thousands are listening to callers bash him on sports radio, to realize he's getting killed for accepting a huge contract, to realize he's not meeting the expectations of millions of strangers, of his boss, of himself.  Think that would hurt his confidence?  Think that would carry over into his personal life?  Maybe just a little?  Wouldn't it for you?

While it's a fans preogative to boo and complain, it's also a player's preogative to have the same problems that the rest of the human population has.  The contract a player signs may define his economic standing, but it doesn't necessarily define the man.  Sometimes, just sometimes, you might want to cut the guy a break.