Javy Baez, Steve Cohen and Twenty-First Century Human Resourcing

ESPN, Mets ownership and MLB Network finally managed to put me off baseball news commentary, at least for the week, if not the whole season in favor of football news, repetitive as it is. I have not posted recently because I have been slogging through an important scene in my novel that stubbornly refused to 'flash' in my head, which is unusual for me. Normally, I obsess nervously over an oncoming scene until, probably 90% of the time, a sudden flash of inspiration assures me that I know one of the images that will occur therein, often as late as the night before I get to the place in the writing, or even overnight in my R.E.M. cycle, after which I will wake, laugh or even pound my pillow triumphantly and then roll over and sleep better than I have in days (not that I often suffer real sleep loss over my writing, but still better).

This time, it was an unadulterated slog, slow, frustrating, painstaking. Then I got a flash. When I was more than two thirds finished with the scene, I finally understood where it all would take me, I found the image that will follow on directly after it.

Sigh. Such is the life of a 'gardener'-style of writer.

...

So, Javy Baez.

If you follow baseball, or sports news at all, really, you know the basics of the story by now. Three of the more talented players on the New York Mets baseball team ('Mets' is a neologue that evokes a now-defunct New York team called the 'Metropolitans'), finally managed a breakthrough game-performance, at home, after struggling mightily through much of the season. Out of an abundance of elation and relief, they each made shows out of celebratory double thumbs-down gestures, a genre of performative celebration that many baseball players engage as a method of team-building and momentum-passing.

One of these players later explicitly acknowledged, in press conference, that these gestures were signals of discontent with the audible discontent display by team fans from unjustifiably early in the admittedly disappointing season. Mets business management quickly condemned both comments and gestures as unprofessional and the players were compelled to issue public apologies before the start of play the next day (today, as of posting time). I argue that this was a significant business failure on the part of management, not talent, and, in fact, a sufficiently obvious and predictable failure as to render management's behavior the far more unprofessional than that of the players.

Often, it is true, players maintain an information discipline around the deepest meanings of these gestures, sharing them with fans, perhaps, only at watershed moments of the season when it can thence become a broader form of team-building by including team fans in the once-tightly-controlled inside joke. This tends to magnify the excitement of crucial game moments, first within the team, usually for the majority of the season, while sustained enthusiasm is one of the major season-long struggles. Later, as excitement builds for the run up to the playoff tournament, when fan enthusiasm is unlikely to wane, sharing the deeper meaning builds a sense of community with fans and magnifies the momentum boost by including fans in the full understanding of the nature of the team celebration.

Mets fans, however, have long shared a sense of predominating angst in their chosen locus of fanaticism ('fandom' is the word used by sports fans). The Mets, after all, are not only the second most popular baseball team in the New York Metropolitan Area, they are the chronological fourth Major League Baseball team in the affections of New York baseball followers. Not only are the Mets preceded by the New York Yankees, the most famous baseball team on the planet and the winners of the most world championships of any baseball team ever, more, indeed, than any American 'major' sports franchise, but the two most-frequently dominant teams now residing on the West Coast, the San Francisco Giants and the Los Angeles (Trolley-)Dodgers both originated as New York City-based franchises.

Each of the three more-venerable teams have storied histories of sporting success, while the experience of Mets fans has felt quite futile, by comparison. Taking only the period since the founding of the Mets (1959, as a founding member of a competing league; they then moved to the National League in 1962), the Giants have won three World Series Championships, the Dodgers five and the Yankees nine while the Mets have won only two. And while the Giants' three represent only a modest advance on the Mets, the team had won five championships while headquartered in New York City, before moving. Additionally, the first of the Mets' two championships, in 1969 is referred to as the 'Miracle' Mets championship team for their against-the-odds success.

So when the team was sold during the most recent off-season, and came under the control of 'activist' owner Steve Cohen, a hyper-rich New York resident with the liquid capital to invest in high-dollar talent, where previous ownership had operated on a relatively small budget, Mets fans cultivated hopes of successes similar to other big city teams that have recently transitioned to 'large market' operations. These teams, the Boston Red Sox and Chicago Cubs, each won championships after streaks of futility much more impressive than that of the Mets, and they continue to threaten deep playoff runs, despite the cyclical nature of baseball team-building that has both franchises in the process of what fans and commentators call a 'rebuild.'

The Red Sox are one season ahead of the Cubs and out-performing expectations this season, positioned to make the playoffs as the last seeded team with talent that was unproven as of the recent off-season, while the Cubs only began their rebuild at the trading deadline of this season (after which trade acquisitions are not eligible to compete in the playoffs) after a hoped-for last gasp effort by established players did not materialize.

One of these Cubs players, traded to the Mets in exchange for speculative younger talent, was Javier Baez, a second baseman famous for his superhuman spacial awareness and crisp 'tagging,' the act of touching the opposing offensive player with the baseball, usually while contained in the leather fielder's glove or 'mitt.' He joined star free agent shortstop Francisco Lindor, a childhood friend and local acquaintance (I decline to refer to Puerto Rico as a nation, even for the purpose of using the word 'countryman'; Puerto Rico is America, though they retain their 'opt-out' option for the time being). This acquisition created one of the most formidable defensive 'middle infields' in the game.

(We have (finally) completed the 'inside baseball' portion of this inside baseball discussion and arrived at the employment theory portion, our real objective)

Lindor was signed to a new, lengthy contract with the Mets during the off-season for an eye-popping $22.3 million annually, along with a $21 million signing bonus and the usual performance bonus incentives over a ten-year contract term. With the entire base contract guaranteed for a total of $341 million, the shortstop, who famously declined to extend his contract tenure with the more-frugal franchise from Cleveland (who will be changing their name to 'the Guardians' from a more ethically questionable moniker at season's end, so let's decline to use said moniker, too, shall we?).

In sports parlance, this decision not to accept an attractive contract extension-offer in hopes of securing an even-more-favorable contract after expiration is referred to as "betting on yourself," because it displays an undesirable level of familiarity with U.S. Labor Law regarding 'at will' status, which tends to depress opening bid offers, unless, that is, one's performance in the final contract year (called the 'walk year') is equal to or better than previous years, demonstrating reliable ROI. Because baseball is the most fickle of the major sports, with a higher probability of unseasonable underperformance than football, basketball, hockey or soccer, Lindor's example of betting on himself is now objective.

Unfortunately, as noted, baseball is, indeed, the most fickle of sports and Lindor's first season in New York has not matched previous performance. There are reasonable explanations for this. Baseball (did I promise no more inside knowledge? Sorry.) is a game of strategy, and one common tactic is to award an unscored advantage (a free base on balls, please see my previous posts explaining baseball 'as if the reader were 5 years old' for reference) to a top player in hopes of achieving three outs against lesser talents. Because baseball is in the midst of a period of heightened pitching advantage, batting lineups with significant imbalances of talent substantially reduce the cost-risk of this strategy leaving the more talented hitters, as they say it in the sport, 'unprotected' in the lineup.

And before I discuss whether the Mets have such an imbalanced lineup (hint: they do.) let me highlight the example of my own hometown team, the LA Dodgers. I've referred to the Dodgers roster as the 'League of Legends' due to the numbers of past and possible, even probable, All-Stars, Cy-Young (pitching excellence) award- and League Most Valuable Player award-winners under contract, many of whom may or certainly will be Hall of Fame inductees, too. There are so many great and potentially great players on this team that more than one of those in the 'potentially' category have spent time relegated to minor league rosters during the present season. Since the team acquired another Cy Young winner and an All-Star/possible MVP in a blockbuster trade just before the deadline, this has only become more true.

One anecdote from inside the locker room is telling on this point. Shortly after the trade deadline acquisitions, journeyman aging legend (3 MVPs, 2 World Series Championships, Batting Champion, 10 time All-Star and certain Hall of Famer) Albert Pujols turns to possible/probable future batting champion, rookie Matt Beaty, who is among those since demoted to the minors. Pujols says to Beaty, 'Matty, once Trea [Turner] shows up, you and me may be trading off hitting in the 8th position' (the last batter before the pitcher, who must hit in the National League). Beaty, for his part, points out that one of those pitchers had been hitting crazy well, replying, 'Albert, when Julio [Urias] is pitching, we may be hitting 9th!'

Despite all of this talent, the team has struggled offensively at times this year, with multiple past MVPs underperforming at the plate, even with what can only be termed absolutely epic batting lineup protection. My point, here, as regards the Mets, is double. a.) It can happen to anybody, and b.) There's really good pitching in the National League this year.

So let's get back to those Mets.

With Francisco Lindor and home run hitter Pete Alonso, the Mets had two top class hitters on opening day, and Lindor is, in fact, considered more of a defensive shortstop than a hitting one. So, with similarly generous definitions, perhaps four other Mets can be considered 'really good' hitters (Pillar, Villar, Conforto and Nimmo) while maybe as many, not all regular starters, qualify as simply 'good.' Keep in mind, however, that 'good' is simply not-good-enough against National League pitching this season, and even inter-league play is no escape. Of the record-tying eight 'no hit' pitching performances this year, five were thrown by American League hurlers.

The point, in this case, is that pitchers for the most part do not have to throw strikes to Lindor and Alonso, which inevitably weighs on their batting averages, particularly since the extra walks that result from the careful pitching don't count against the batting average, but don't count in favor either.

Back to employment philosophy. You have, in the Mets, an above average, but not extraordinary batting lineup (by talent, they rank near last by performance) with, in fairness, one of the best defensive teams in the league. And, again, you have one of the individual top-paid players (17th non-pitcher by base salary). This in an industry, much like film and entertainment, where talent is highly determinative of business success. The reality, of course, is that in most industries talent is determinative, if not 'highly' determinative of success, which makes the comparisons and conclusions below broadly applicable, if not as immediate and responsive as what we are discussing.

Mets customers (ticket- and merchandise-buying fans), are famously quarrelsome. Not fickle, by any means, though clearly their hopes have been raised for near-term results. These hopes are, and probably always were, unjustifiable given the reality and circumstances just discussed (though, admittedly, we have the advantage of hindsight). Still, it is especially important, under the circumstances, to note that Mets fans have mostly sustained loyalty (or been engendered with it) despite consistent disappointment for more than thirty successive seasons. There are, that is to say, other, much more rewarding options for baseball in New York, in terms of objective standards of success.

Moreover, Mets fans, I think it is fair to say more so than their direct, local competitor Yankees-fans, openly admire a pugilistic temperament. They could, without a great deal of public relations guidance, be activated to admire even player-employees who direct that cantankerous attitude against them, most particularly when any objective reading would rate the fan behavior as untenable.

So that is a clearly missed opportunity to turn a potentially controversial employee action into a qualified victory.

But that is not the major issue related to employee relations, here. Players traded at the trading deadline are usually in their walk year (see above) and likely to command higher base pay than they are then making, often because their first major league contract is expiring, meaning they have established their big league value and have the agent and the agency to ask for more. Javy Baez is not an exception, and the third player involved in the protest, Kevin Pillar, is a versatile, five-team veteran journeyman outfielder who has played important workmanlike roles, usually as a starter for playoff or near-playoff teams, and he, too, is on a one year contract, making a respectable (quite enviable, to me) $5 million.

Pillar's is arguably the fourth most recognizable name among the Mets' position players (that means excluding pitchers). With both of the big name pitchers on the injury list, this means that three of the four most recognizable players on the roster, two of whom have expiring contracts and the third a ten-year, guaranteed contract, made the protest. They are players who are seen as leaders by members of the team and across the league, and each has relatively-high negotiating leverage on the business side of the enterprise, Lindor because of his job security, Baez and Pillar because of the team's clear need for talent and their expiring contracts.

Booing fans, meanwhile, have leapt to judgement, particularly in the case of Lindor, and engaged in widely disparaged methods of positive punishment. That are clearly, objectively misbehaving. They know this. They are doing it as escapism, which is the entire purpose of sport-as-spectacle, but they still know that it is morally and ethically wrong. Employees engaging that misbehavior, even in an antagonistic posture, are still only engaging that escapism until management legitimizes that posture as something more than theater.

Probably more important, the player representation, and the long-sufferance that preceded the protest, are clear indicators of the emotional investment those players, and very probably other players, feel against the fan behavior. It is not a whimsical, thoughtless act of defiance. These players felt the frustration they pantomimed deeply. And management betrayed those feelings, in favor of customers who are highly unlikely to forsake the business, certainly not over a single act by employees or a single season's results, much less when the employees are manifestly in the right.

So it seems pretty obvious that this was a business misstep on the part of Mets management, and yet, it was a good twelve hours before commenters with any significant platform seemed to complete that calculus. Credit, in that regard, to Michael Wilbon, who frankly had advanced a series of pretty disagreeable arguments over the last month, and so surprised me in siding with the players and better business sense, and also qualified credit to Harold Reynolds, who noted the pliant attitude of Mets fans in the park during two full-length games played at City Field today.

Still, this appears to be a minority opinion in media, despite the obviousness of the challenge it could cause the team in resigning Baez, and the desirability penalty they will suffer with all other free agents. What is the premium Steve Cohen will pay, not just because New York fans are newly reconfirmed as unsupportive of team members, but if team management is seen as not defending player interests in a manner that seems to form a pattern?

Already, Francisco Lindor held out a week from signing the massive contract he did sign, applying pressure in an effort to secure another $5 million dollars, Cohen seemed to win the battle in that moment, with a steady hand and a strong bluff, but Cohen lost face later when Lindor quipped that if he'd realized just how unreasonable Mets fans would be in their impatience to see results from him, he would have asked for $5 million dollars more in contract negotiations. What, then, happens when a player really is willing to take 5% less not to be in New York? There are plenty of reasons beyond fan fickleness to choose other places to live and work, not least the famous Texas luxury-tax 'bonus,' which would wipe away this discount completely.

But, again, all of this seems pretty obvious. If it is not, now, it certainly will come glaring back after winter meetings, when off-season free agents begin inking deals. I haven't inked what my web-server estimates is a ten-plus minute read just to reiterate an 'I told you so' that I tweeted out in 280 characters on my personal account two nights ago.

No, I have brought you here, to the bottom of this long online read, to point out how this represents change in the labor market as a whole. The world is moving away from wage-paid labor, treated as interchangeable parts, filling indifferent time. Call this the New York State of Labor. It is moving toward a Hollywood Talent Market, where labor competes with one another, not to offer lower prices, but to demonstrate greater value, and employers, likewise, compete, in their case, in order to demonstrate the benefits of working for their business, from desirability, as we are illustrating it here, to conventional benefits, to competitive pay and incentives.

Employers like Steve Cohen (and Jeff Bezos, more infamously) believe they can compel obedience and drive down wages simply by withholding pay and bearing the decline in revenue as temporary. Increasingly, however, they will be less and less able to obfuscate the sources of such structural disadvantages, which they will have intentionally subjected shareholders to in violation of those stakeholders' own schedules for building profit. Static money is money that is losing value, and while location-tied customers may stick around through 31 years of postseason futility, investors, certainly, will not.