Revenue Disparity

If it's March, then baseball season must be right around the corner.

After going my my comics shop for their "beat the tax man" sale (apparently due to a desire to raise cash for Uncle Sam rather than one of those wacky "inventory tax" laws that some states have), Subrata and I went off to Hobees for lunch, where we spent most of the time talking about baseball, seeing as spring training has just kicked off.

I finished reading the Baseball Prospectus 2001 tonight, which was entertaining as always. The centerpiece of the book is the revised pitcher abuse analysis, co-written by the administrator of my fantasy league, Keith Woolner. It's an intriguing analysis in and of itself, but also because it points out how much work there is yet to be done in analyzing pitcher workloads (for instance, how much correlation is there between a high workload in any given year and injury or ineffectiveness the next year? Plus the impact of age on the results of a heavy workload). It's fun to see the development of a nascent field of study in the sport.

The other oft-repeated element in the book is the suggestion that the revenue disparity among franchises in baseball is not a problem. The Oakland Athletics entry states that the team has "demonstrated that the name of the game is quality talent evaluation, not money." I personally feel that revenue disparity is a significant problem in the sport, which is being largely masked by (1) stupid management and (2) smart management. In other words, the extremely wide variation in general management of baseball teams and the wide variety of reasons for this variation obscures the effects the revenue disparity has on the game.

Ironically, it's the entry for the Kansas City Royals which provides some insight on the problem:

No matter what you hear, no team in baseball is so "small market" that it can't create a window of opportunity for itself. Not every team can be like the Yankees, who have paid to have their window enlarged and bolted open, but no team is so poor that it can't wiggle its way into contention with some innovation, some creativity, and some risk.

Billy Beane and his Oakland Athletics could perhaps lay claim to having the best-run organization in baseball right now. They have a chance to form a dynasty for the next few years. But one or two slip-ups could bring all that down, as the A's have even a slimmer margin for error than does the house of cards that the Cleveland Indians have become. Yet the Yankees could carry Hideki Irabu, Scott Brosius, and the shambling remains of David Cone and win yet another World Series.

It's unfair, is what it is. And in a sense, baseball on the field is all about fairness. And that's why revenue sharing is a serious problem in baseball.

And it truly saddens me to see some of the smartest, most eloquent writers about the sport arguing that revenue disparity isn't a problem.

I did a little shopping in the afternoon (mmm, scented candles) and then decided to drive over to the ocean just as it started raining. I'd had in mind taking some photos of spring in some of my favorite spots in the area, but the rain torpedoed that idea. So I went up to Half Moon Bay, walked down to look at the huge waves crashing on the shore, and then sat in my car reading comic books while facing the Bay and the rain splattered down. It was nice. Odd, but then I'm a little odd.

Spent the evening at Borrone. I've been reading all kind of stuff lately, from the newspaper to the Prospectus to The Subtle Knife to the comic books I bought at the store today to the new Comics Buyer's Guide. There's just all kinds of stuff to read.

I've also been wondering where my copy of The Professor and the Madman got to. Mom gave it to me two Christmases ago, and I read and enjoyed it, and I haven't seen it since. I thought I'd loaned it to her, but she says not. So I wonder where it went? I try to write down everything I loan to people but sometimes stuff just disappears on me. (And boy does it bother the hell out of me when it does! Being a compulsive sort, I like to have everything just so.)

Did I mention that I cut my hair a bit over a week ago? When I saw Tracy and Lucy at Potlatch last weekend, one of them (I forget which) said, "I see you have the 'girlfriend' haircut." I didn't mention it before because I wanted to surprise Monique with it, and after I did so on Sunday I forgot to mention it here.

My head feels better with short hair. It's certainly less annoying. But I guess I look like "more of a goober" now, as John said.