One of the main privileges of holding the commissionership of baseball is being entrusted with a vague but powerful clause in Article II, Section 2(b) the Major League Baseball Constitution which gives the commissioner the power to act in the “best interests of the game.” This “best interests” clause has been used by many commissioners over the years, and the Supreme Court of the United States has even positively affirmed and reinforced the commissioner’s right to invoke the “best interests” clause in nearly all matters of baseball governance.
I bring up the “best interests” clause because I wish to contrast that with everything that has taken place over the 15 years of Bud Selig’s commissionership. I will not discuss how he has blemished the integrity of the game by accepting loans from a current owner in exchange for a favorable ruling on the potential contraction of a team, nor will I discuss how he rigged the sale of three teams in order to reward loyalty at the expense of open competition. I won’t even mention the fact that, at one time, he was the owner of a small-market club and secured a labor contract that directly benefited his own bottom line, all the while sitting behind the desk of the commissioner’s office.
Instead, I will focus on how Bud Selig, in his quest for the appearance of diligence and competence, has disgraced himself and the game by leaking private information as a form of revenge. As all will no doubt remember, last week Jason Giambi gave a candid interview to USA Today about his own regrets for having used steroids and his desire that all of baseball own up to its mistakes in that regard. Today, it was reported that Giambi had tested positive for amphetamines within the last year. To me, the timing of this revelation is extremely suspect. I interpret this news as Selig smearing Giambi in the press because he dared to speak in public and on the record.
The irony is that Selig has been trying to coerce teams and players to cooperate with his appointed crony George Mitchell in Mitchell’s investigation of the steroids scandal. Funny, then, that Selig would resent a player openly and frankly discussing his past involvement with steroids but would seek to compel them to talk with Mitchell in the same honest manner.
It amazes me that Giambi’s personal opinion would generate such backlash and anger. What is Selig so upset about? Isn’t it an open secret that everyone – players, agents, owners, team management, members of the press – knew about the sport’s rampant addiction to (and endorsement of) steroids? Does Selig think that smearing Giambi is an effective means of damage control? If anything, it obscures the process that Selig appointed Mitchell to lead and is totally counter to the “best interests” clause.
And there, folks, is the rub. See, Selig isn’t interested in solving the steroids problem in baseball, he’s merely interested in giving off the whiff of propriety and discipline. He’d rather smear Giambi (and Bonds before him) than confront the reality that baseball needs steroids and all the side benefits it provides – tape-measure homeruns, jacked-up radar gun readings, the ability for players to grind through the fatigue of a 162-game season.
So, to Jason Giambi, the message is clear: it doesn’t pay to tell the truth when you’re working for liars. Then again, Giambi should’ve known that already if he bothered to see what baseball has done to Mark McGwire.
I bring up the “best interests” clause because I wish to contrast that with everything that has taken place over the 15 years of Bud Selig’s commissionership. I will not discuss how he has blemished the integrity of the game by accepting loans from a current owner in exchange for a favorable ruling on the potential contraction of a team, nor will I discuss how he rigged the sale of three teams in order to reward loyalty at the expense of open competition. I won’t even mention the fact that, at one time, he was the owner of a small-market club and secured a labor contract that directly benefited his own bottom line, all the while sitting behind the desk of the commissioner’s office.
Instead, I will focus on how Bud Selig, in his quest for the appearance of diligence and competence, has disgraced himself and the game by leaking private information as a form of revenge. As all will no doubt remember, last week Jason Giambi gave a candid interview to USA Today about his own regrets for having used steroids and his desire that all of baseball own up to its mistakes in that regard. Today, it was reported that Giambi had tested positive for amphetamines within the last year. To me, the timing of this revelation is extremely suspect. I interpret this news as Selig smearing Giambi in the press because he dared to speak in public and on the record.
The irony is that Selig has been trying to coerce teams and players to cooperate with his appointed crony George Mitchell in Mitchell’s investigation of the steroids scandal. Funny, then, that Selig would resent a player openly and frankly discussing his past involvement with steroids but would seek to compel them to talk with Mitchell in the same honest manner.
It amazes me that Giambi’s personal opinion would generate such backlash and anger. What is Selig so upset about? Isn’t it an open secret that everyone – players, agents, owners, team management, members of the press – knew about the sport’s rampant addiction to (and endorsement of) steroids? Does Selig think that smearing Giambi is an effective means of damage control? If anything, it obscures the process that Selig appointed Mitchell to lead and is totally counter to the “best interests” clause.
And there, folks, is the rub. See, Selig isn’t interested in solving the steroids problem in baseball, he’s merely interested in giving off the whiff of propriety and discipline. He’d rather smear Giambi (and Bonds before him) than confront the reality that baseball needs steroids and all the side benefits it provides – tape-measure homeruns, jacked-up radar gun readings, the ability for players to grind through the fatigue of a 162-game season.
So, to Jason Giambi, the message is clear: it doesn’t pay to tell the truth when you’re working for liars. Then again, Giambi should’ve known that already if he bothered to see what baseball has done to Mark McGwire.
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