COMMENTARY : Baseball Still in No Hurry to Choose a Commissioner

In time Rockies’ attendance may tumble, the Blue Jays may stumble and baseball owners may get around to selecting their next commissioner. Regarding the matter of this last development, they needn’t bother. The office has been vacant so long it exists only as a memory.

After more than 16 months without an authority figure, the proprietors of the game Tuesday night decided they had been in too much of a hurry to fill the chair most recently occupied by Fay Vincent and declined to conduct a vote at a special meeting in Ft. Lauderdale. They will continue their government by committee until further notice, most likely until they achieve a new collective-bargaining agreement with the players. If they insist on a salary cap as a condition of a new basic contract, the sport may be headless for the rest of the millenium.

Already, baseball has staged two World Series, one All-Star Game and one Hall of Fame induction ceremony in the absence of a commissioner. Actually, there was a commissioner present for both the midsummer classic at Baltimore and Reggie Jackson’s enshrinement at Cooperstown but, in both cases, it was Bowie Kuhn, who was removed a decade ago. The once starchy attorney, now sporting open-necked golf shirts, had been away so long he was applauded.

More significant than any symbolic appearance, no commissioner was consulted on baseball’s decision to finance its own national television programing, to split each major league into three divisions (with an additional round of playoffs that may include a team with a losing record) and to adopt a revenue-sharing plan contingent on the aforementioned salary cap. Clearly, the intention of owners was to place the cart before the horse and order the latter to push. This represents a distinct departure from the system at work in other professional sports that don’t claim to be on the verge of extinction.

In fact, the NBA can trace its robust health and image as America’s highest-flying sport directly to the actions of Commissioner David Stern, who promoted the salary cap as a way out of financial problems and relentlessly marketed the game and its athletes not only in the United States but throughout the world. Relations between the NFL and its players were contentious until incoming Commissioner Paul Tagliabue made a new bargaining agreement his first priority. Not only did he succeed against formidable odds in assuring labor peace for the rest of the century but he got the Players Assn. to accept a salary cap.

Presented with such examples of effective leadership, NHL governors reached into Stern’s administrative staff and anointed Gary Bettman their first commissioner. They gave him greater powers than that enjoyed by the previous administrator, the elusive John Ziegler. The immediate result has been successful franchises in Miami and Anaheim and greater television exposure.

Meanwhile, baseball denies the necessity of such a position. Despite pressure from Congress and criticism from the media, the proprietors continue to rely upon a ruling executive council chaired by Bud Selig, a car salesman whose Milwaukee franchise is among the weakest in the major leagues. Many owners hope by delaying the selection process they may finally be able to persuade Selig to accept the job. He maintains he has no interest.

Then again, why should anyone desire it if the individual is rendered powerless or his counsel is not sought on significant issues? By restructuring the sport, owners have emasculated the office to the point that whoever occupies the seat does not deserve to be called commissioner. According to the Random House Dictionary of the English Language, Second Edition, a commissioner is “an official chosen by an athletic association to exercise broad adminstrative or judicial authority.”

Just how broad do you think those powers will be when the new parameters finally are established? Certainly, they won’t be as broad as those exercised by Kuhn when he cracked down on George Steinbrenner, Ted Turner and Charlie Finley “in the best interests of baseball.” Nor will they be as broad as those used by Bart Giamatti to banish Pete Rose. Or those by which Vincent intervened in the 1990 lockout and attempted unilaterally to realign the National League in the wake of expansion after the owners failed to reach a decision.

The latter, of course, was the last straw for special interest groups, who drafted a letter of resignation for Vincent. Baseball’s last commissioner left office on Labor Day, Sept. 7, 1992. Anyone succeeding him two years later or longer, in a far different climate, should be offered a new title. Chief of protocol, perhaps. Maybe ambassador or field marshal or grand umpire. Considering that his primary duty will consist of attending World Series games, he might be known as baseball’s designated sitter.

My own favorite, borrowed from one of Monty Python’s more inspired skits, is Minister of Intentional Walks. He might even be encouraged to wear a derby. We could all stand the laugh.

Apparently, if beanball wars break out again, the league presidents will have to deal with them. If a disciple of Vince Coleman attempts to blow up a section of bleachers at the new ballpark in Cleveland or Texas, his employer will have to take exception. If a Steinbrenner pays a sleaze for information discrediting one of his players, then it will be up to the owner’s peers to decide on suitable punishment.

As for Rose, he is advised to stay tuned before addressing any request for reinstatement. The inmates think they’re perfectly capable of running the asylum.