ANALYSIS : SACRIFICIAL LAMBS : Angels’ Joyner Among Those Getting Short-Changed

Since they first put a bat in his hands and his name on the roster in the spring of 1986, the Angels have spent a good deal of time making an example of Wally Joyner.

He has, over the past two years, been promoted as:

--Wally Joyner, first baseman of the future.

--Wally Joyner, symbol for Mike Port’s bold new commitment to youth.

--Wally Joyner, Orange County’s fresh-faced kid-next-door.

--Wally Joyner, cover boy for the Angels’ 1988 advance-ticket sales brochure.

And now, during the midst of contract negotiating season, the Angels have done it again. In recent days, Joyner has been hoisted to the forefront of another movement, a breed of player paying heavily today for the shortsightedness of his elders.

Joyner and contemporaries Jose Canseco, Danny Tartabull and Pete Incaviglia are among those presently caught in a financial squeeze generated by the latest baseball Basic Agreement, otherwise known as the Great Player Sellout of ’85.

Call it the plight of the two-year-plus major leaguer.

Before reaching the accord that ended the one-day baseball strike of 1985, the Major League Players Assn. made one significant concession to the owners--allowing the eligibility requirement for arbitration to be raised from two full years’ major league service to three. Back then, it may have been considered an expendable bargaining chip, a way to preserve the current structure of the free-agent system. But, two years down the road, it has turned the game’s bright young stars into sacrificial lambs, penalizing them for a three-year-old decision in which they had little or no say.

Under the provisions of the former agreement, Joyner and Co. would be headed for arbitration hearings this month. And for Joyner, who batted .285 with 34 home runs and 117 RBIs in his second big league season, such a hearing could have conceivably translated into a $1-million salary.

But now, in the aftermath of 1985, Joyner remains a full season short of qualifying for arbitration. And without the specter of arbitration, the so-called “two-plus” players approach the negotiating table at the mercy of the owners.

Hence, these recent developments:

--Joyner, seeking a one-year contract in the $600,000 range, receives an Angel offer of $281,000 on Feb. 8. Two weeks pass, Port and Joyner’s agents talk and the Angels up the ante to around $330,000--still $100,000 shy of what Joyner is willing to compromise for.

--Will Clark of San Francisco, after batting .308 with 35 home runs in his second big-league season, reportedly agrees to a one-year contract worth $320,000.

--Canseco of the Oakland A’s, who edged Joyner for 1986 American League Rookie of the Year and drove in 113 runs in 1987, signed Thursday for $325,000, plus incentives.

--Incaviglia of the Texas Rangers, after producing 57 home runs and 168 RBIs during his first two seasons, settles for a one-year contract worth $275,000--plus incentives that could bring his 1988 paycheck to $327,500.

--Tartabull of the Kansas City Royals, coming off a 34-home run, 101-RBI season, begins 1988 negotiations with a team offer of $225,000.

If you notice a trend developing, you’re not alone. And if you’re wondering how these numbers fit into the grand scheme, remember that in 1987 such journeymen as Danny Heep made $300,000, Ed Romero $415,000, Ruppert Jones $450,000, Rick Manning $475,000, Ron Hassey $492,258 and Butch Wynegar $733,333.

“The two-plus players have become the significant focus for where the owners are keeping salaries down,” said Barry Axelrod, one of the two agents representing Joyner. “Until these players are eligible for arbitration, teams still have the right to pay them whatever they want.”

Or, as Kansas City General Manager John Schuerholz was recently quoted saying: “You only have so much money allotted for salaries. If (veteran) players are getting more than they should because of free agent and arbitration rights, the younger players will get less.”

Since the settlement of 1985, owners have driven this point home.

In 1986, the last year that two-year players were eligible for arbitration, the average salary for two-plus players was $309,604. In 1987, under the new rules, that figure had dropped to $191,703--a decline of 38.1% in a matter of 12 months.

Then, consider the individual cases of Toronto Blue Jay shortstop Tony Fernandez and Cleveland Indian first baseman-outfielder Joe Carter.

Fernandez, a .302 career hitter and generally acknowledged as the American League’s premier shortstop, did not have arbitration rights until 1988. So, in both 1986 and 1987, after negotiations with the Blue Jays went nowhere, Fernandez had his contract automatically renewed by the club.

Last year, Fernandez was renewed for $400,000--playing the 1987 season for less money than shortstop counterparts Rafael Ramirez ($875,000), Craig Reynolds ($416,667), and Garry Templeton ($1,018,321).

Carter led the American League in RBIs with 121 in 1986. He also batted .302 and hit 29 home runs. But he didn’t yet have three full years of big league service--Carter spent 59 games in Triple-A in 1984--so the Indians offered him $250,000.

Carter, who held out last spring, wound up playing the 1987 season for $250,000.

Interestingly, both Fernandez and Carter qualified for arbitration this spring--and both reportedly settled with their respective teams for more than $800,000.

Likewise, first-time arbitration candidates Kirby Puckett, Eric Davis and Ted Higuera have seen their salaries more than double from 1987. Puckett of the Minnesota Twins jumped from $425,000 to $1,090,000 plus $130,000 in incentives; Davis of the Cincinnati Reds rose from $330,000 to $899,000 plus $110,000 in bonuses; and Higuera of the Milwaukee Brewers vaulted from $300,000 to $1,025,000. All three players settled before their scheduled arbitration hearings.

“There’s no doubt that arbitration is a player’s best leverage,” says Michael Watkins, the other agent representing Joyner.

“It’s about all that’s left,” adds Dan Grigsby, who lists Angel shortstop Dick Schofield among his clients. “Free agency seems to be breathing, barely, but arbitration appears to be the only leverage the players have left.”

And until such players as Joyner put in their full three years on the field, they are left virtually defenseless in contract talks.

Grigsby considers Joyner a textbook study.

“Here’s a perfect example of a guy who loses because of the new rules,” Grigsby said. “What he deserves and what the Angels can pay him are complete opposites.

“Under the old system, he’d probably get $750,000 or $800,000--he’d probably be in that category--with a chance to jump to $1 million. He’s a lot like (Don) Mattingly. I know his people like to compare Wally with Mattingly and their stats (after two full seasons) compare pretty well.

“But right now, he’ll have to play for whatever the Angels want to pay him. It’s . . . take it or leave it.”

Joyner has considered leaving it. After a heated Feb. 8 meeting with Port, which Joyner said began in a shouting match, the first baseman referred to the possibility of holding out as “the silver bullet in my pocket . . . I have to figure out if it’s in my best interest.”

Since then, Watkins and Axelrod have tried to convince Joyner otherwise.

“I haven’t thought that was ever a major possibility,” Axelrod said. “We had a discussion with Wally about various forms of alternatives and holding out is one. But it’s a very remote alternative.”

Of course, it might be tempting for Joyner to recall Roger Clemens’ contract strategy last spring. Clemens held out through most of the Boston Red Sox’s training camp before finally coming to terms for $625,000--a figure Joyner would be happy to pull in during 1988.

Axelrod, however, describes Clemens as “the one aberration under the new rules.” And Dennis Gilbert, who represents Canseco and Tartabull, would advise Joyner against a holdout. Last spring, he saw Canseco hold out briefly, eventually sign for $180,000 and then struggle through the first half of the season.

“It worked for Roger Clemens because Commissioner (Peter) Ueberroth stepped in and made him a wealthy guy,” Gilbert said. “But that’s the only instance I can think of. Holding out hurt Joe Carter.

“It’s hard to practice hitting a baseball if you’re holding out, thinking about your salary. And this is a real important year for guys like Wally Joyner and Jose Canseco. In order to get the big money next year, they have to put up the numbers this year.”

A lengthy holdout can also damage a two-plus player’s bargaining power in a different way, reducing him, in effect, to a one-plus player.

Suppose, for illustration’s sake, Joyner holds out and his absence extends into the beginning of the regular season. Since arbitration requirements call for a player to spend three full seasons on a major league roster, Joyner’s 1988 season would be rendered meaningless. He’d have to wait until after the 1989 season before qualifying for arbitration.

Or, say Joyner ended his hypothetical holdout before opening day and the Angels bring him back--but only after he started the regular season in the minor leagues for a week’s worth of “conditioning.” Same result. He’d be waiting for February, 1990, for his first crack at arbitration.

But the Angels wouldn’t attempt such a thing . . . would they?

“If they can send him down, it would save them a ton of money,” Grigsby said. “But the Angels’ aren’t going to send Wally down. He’s a high-visibility player.”

In other words, the fans would notice something amiss. And in Angel country, christened back in 1986 as Wally World, Joyner has the considerable backing of the fans.

“Here’s where the Angels have got to be sensitive, because of fan sentiment,” Grigsby said. “Joyner has some leverage--not much, but some--because of who he is and the city he plays for.”

Accordingly, Watkins and Axelrod have built their negotiating strategy around this sliver of an edge.

“We think Wally is a unique person, not just a ballplayer for the California Angels but an important individual in the community,” Watkins said. “Being a player who’s home-grown (i.e., a product of the Angel farm system), who’s popular with the fans . . . “Barry and I--and the Angels should, too--look at Wally as a very special person.”

However, Joyner also finds himself confronted by special circumstances. And one of those is the reality that he is no longer hammering out a contract simply for Wally Joyner.

At this point, Joyner and the Angels are negotiating a precedent.

“One thing brought about arbitration was a sudden free-flow of information about what everybody makes,” Axelrod said. “In 1981, ‘82, ‘83, contract figures were kept under wraps. Since then, year-by-year, that information has become available to everyone, and it’s had a ripple effect in negotiations.

” . . . I wonder what we’d be looking at if all we had to consider was how valuable Wally Joyner was to the Angels. But now, Mike Port has to consider the impact Wally will have on others and the salary structure of baseball.

“It’s almost like fitting a piece of a puzzle--’Where does Wally fit in?’ Everyone has an effect on everyone else and, sometimes, that’s a hindrance.”

Last spring, Joyner signed with the Angels for a base salary of $165,000. A day later, Canseco returned to the A’s training camp and signed an agreement for $5,000 more.

This year, invisible brackets appear to be enveloping the cream of the two-plus class. Joyner, Canseco, Incaviglia, Tartabull, San Francisco’s Clark--they’re all negotiating in a range roughly between $250,000 and $400,000.

One agent, looking at the Joyner situation, dryly observed: “We all know where it’s going to wind up. Joyner will end up signing for between $360,000 and $375,000.”

Had Joyner been born a bit earlier--or had the Players Assn. negotiated a bit longer in 1985--he might be looking at an offer twice the amount.

But that was the price the players deemed necessary to preserve free agency--a system the owners have since managed to circumvent in other ways.

Was it too steep a price?

“I felt strongly, and stated as much at the time, that arbitration rights are more important than free agent rights,” Axelrod said. “Free agency affects only those who have played at least six years. Back then, arbitration applied to anyone with more than two years’ service. That’s a vastly greater number of players.”

Gilbert: “I personally was not happy to see it happen. It bothers me a lot. But that’s what the players voted on. I’m for the players--and the players voted for it.”

Or, at least those players who happened to be on major league rosters in the summer of 1985. Joyner, Canseco, Incaviglia--as well the one-plus class of Mark McGwire, Benito Santiago, Kevin Seitzer and Devon White--had no say in the matter.

However, they have certainly come to taste the truth of the consequences.