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More News Coming From the Courtroom

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NEWSDAY

Recent developments confirm the suspicion that the most significant appendage in American sports is not the sole property of Michael Jordan, Roger Clemens or Randall Cunningham. Rather, it is the long arm of the law. With each succeeding week, the limb appears to reach into additional corners of athletic endeavor.

By seeking an injunction in federal court to prevent the implementation of commissioner Fay Vincent’s realignment of the National League, the Chicago Cubs joined a long list of plaintiffs seeking to redress alleged wrongs through legal means.

The baseball executive isn’t likely to find much sympathy in National Football League headquarters. Commissioner Paul Tagliabue and his staff are on the defensive in a Minneapolis courtroom where eight players are suing the league on antitrust charges.

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Nor do the divisions in sports break down simply along the lines of management vs. labor or owners vs. their elected spokesperson. In the National Basketball Association, the Washington Bullets have filed tampering charges against another club, the New York Knicks, in the matter of the latter’s pursuit of free agent Harvey Grant. The case will be heard by a special master approved by the NBA and its players association.

It’s not nearly as messy a situation as was resolved by the National Hockey League. In what may have been the biggest and certainly was the clumsiest trade in the sport’s history, the Quebec Nordiques dealt coveted rookie holdout Eric Lindros to two teams in a matter of hours. The league called in a special arbitrator to clear up the confusion. He, not the Nordiques nor Lindros, selected the Philadelphia Flyers over the New York Rangers as the party of the second part.

Track and field, once the province of unpaid athletes and amateurish officials, has acknowledged its ascent to the world of corporate profits in appropriate fashion. Two weeks ago in New Orleans, Butch Reynolds held the Olympic Trials hostage while he attempted to block the drug suspension imposed by the international governing body. His event was postponed until the legal system intervened, allowing him to compete. Having succeeded in one arena, he failed in the other, finishing fifth in the 400-meter final. Perhaps in the old days, somebody would affix a moral to that story. In the litigious ‘90s, a restraining order would be more appropriate.

The cloud from Jerry Tarkanian’s wrangle with the NCAA hung over Nevada Las Vegas and college basketball for more than a decade before the coach reluctantly moved out of his office this spring and finally took the professional plunge with the San Antonio Spurs. Now it is the NBA that must negotiate shark-infested waters. Meanwhile, the docket in Las Vegas has been reduced, at a considerable savings to local taxpayers.

Baseball, however, seized the legal spotlight this week after the Cubs defied baseball’s bylaws by taking the commissioner to court. It wasn’t long ago that the minions of George Steinbrenner withdrew suits filed against Vincent which, the commissioner said, prevented him from considering the merits of the Yankee owner’s return to grace. Although he reportedly has reached a decision, Vincent has yet to announce if and-or when Steinbrenner can be released from the exile to which he consigned himself two years ago.

Some of the commissioner’s attention has been diverted by the fallout from his permanent ban of Steve Howe, the Yankees reliever who had been suspended six times before pleading guilty to attempted purchase of cocaine in Montana. As expected, the players association filed a grievance, which is being heard by an arbitrator. It was during testimony in support of Howe that Yankees officials made remarks Vincent interpreted as repudiation of baseball’s drug policy, leading to a regrettable scene in the commissioner’s office last week. The arbitrator has yet to render a decision.

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No wonder that Vincent appeared to be yearning for simpler times when he issued his ruling that sent the Cubs running for their law books. In his written decision, he noted that in 1964, major-league clubs, at the suggestion of commissioner Ford Frick, restored the powers of his office “to the extent possessed by Judge Landis” and “gave the commissioner essentially the same unfettered authority that Landis had had prior to 1945.” Vincent wielded that power in the same autocratic manner that befitted Kenesaw Mountain Landis, some of whose unequaled authority rested on his stature as a federal judge.

One major difference now is the rights that players and individual franchises (see Los Angeles Raiders) have earned through lengthy court battles. As a result, any decision of substance is likely to be challenged by one party or another. And rarely can a man or woman single-handedly affect major change in sports.

This is an era of consensus, of committees, of juries. For instance, the fate of true free agency in the NFL will be determined by a panel of female jurors whose qualifications include complete ignorance of football. After strikes failed and negotiations with the league faltered, the players resorted to the court of last resort.

Little wonder that when the NHL needed a temporary replacement for outgoing President John Ziegler, an attorney, they turned to Gil Stein, the league’s vice president and general counsel. David Stern had been the NBA’s first general counsel before his promotion to executive vice president and his elevation to commissioner. Tagliabue represented the NFL in Congressional hearings and before the Supreme Court before he was selected to succeed Pete Rozelle, the public relations man who had shaped the league’s image.

Vincent never defended baseball in a court of law. He was brought in by his good friend, Bart Giamatti, to serve as deputy commissioner, ascending to the office upon the latter’s sudden death. Nevertheless, the man’s background includes the practice of law. In these times, it comes with the territory.

Alas, the rash of legal issues appearing on the sport pages leaves fans only one contingency for which to root: recess.

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