NEW YORK -- Oh, it was a loaded question, all right. The guy that I expected to answer was Bud Selig, whose role as baseball commissioner expands beyond the new sacred walls in the Bronx that feature the plaques of Yankee greats.
I asked the question anyway.
Given the mystique of pinstripes, television ratings that soar toward the farthest black hole at the sight of the interlocking "NY" in white against blue caps, baseball rock stars Derek Jeter, A-Rod, Mariano Rivera and the rest -- I mean, doesn't it help the entire game whenever the Yankees win it all?
Well, it does. Nobody cares about the Tampa Bay Rays in October or November, for instance, except those with too much time on their hands around the Skyview Bridge over the Gulf of Mexico. The world is dominated by Yankee lovers, Yankee haters and few in-between, and everybody knows it.
NEW YORK -- The lords of baseball don't realize it, probably because they're old and stubborn and semi-senile. But their showcase event, the World Series, never has seemed more irrelevant in American life. I say it even as the New York Yankees, a world-famous brand name with gaudy stars and Hollywood girlfriends, return for the first time in six years to play the defending champion Philadelphia Phillies in what should be a compelling matchup of monstrous talent and East Coast psychosis.
The problem? Look at the calendar, stupid. The Series is starting later than ever, on Oct. 28, and potentially could finish with a Game 7 in what very possibly would be a frigid, blustery Yankee Stadium on November the friggin' fi-fi-fi-fifth. That means the Boys of Summer are perilously close to becoming the Icecubes of Winter, which is not the smart way to determine a champion in a game of intellectual nuance and patient, incremental drama. Though so many of these postseason contests have been cool to watch, I've also found myself thinking at times, "Can we please finish all this?" instead of sitting back and enjoying the action.
According to Sports Business Journal, Selig is predicting a rebound in 2010 from this year's attendance decline of 6.65 percent to 73.42 million, a season in which 22 of 30 teams posted drop-offs in attendance.
The reason for Selig's optimism is the improvement in the economy, including the 13 percent increase this year in the Dow Jones industrial average. Some experts, though, are arguing that the improvements may be short-lived because unemployment is continuing to rise. Many have argued that the economic recovery in the U.S. will be painfully slow to help many Americans hurt by the recession.
Major League Baseball welcomed 73,364,441 fans into stadiums this season, the fifth-highest total in the history of the game. That sounds great, until you realize that the total attendance numbers dropped 6.65 percent for the year, the steepest drop since 1952. Before you start sounding the recession alarm, however, it's important to note that there wasn't much chance of baseball avoiding a decline this season.
The Mets and Yankees each moved into new, smaller ballparks this season, moves which cost baseball more than 20,000 seats in total. As Maury Brown of The Biz of Baseballpoints out, even if each team had sold out every seat this season there wasn't much chance of baseball not seeing a downturn in attendance. As it was, the two New York teams accounted for 30 percent of the total decline.
Has it been 20 years? Wow, that's me. I'm glancing at the last photo in the middle of Roger Kahn's mostly toothless book in collaboration with Pete Rose called "My Story." The date of the photo is August 24, 1989, and as I study it, I remember feeling as if somebody had shoved a resin bag down my throat.
Moments before somebody snapped this photo in Cincinnati, baseball commissioner Bart Giamatti did the unthinkable in New York: He ignored Rose's distinction as the game's all-time hits leader, and he knocked an automatic trip to Cooperstown away from Rose with a lifetime ban from baseball for gambling on the sport.
As the No. 1 overall pick in 1990, Chipper Jones signed with the Braves for $275,000.
Even in today's dollars, that's about $450,000 -- or about 3 percent of Stephen Strasburg was guaranteed as this year's No. 1 pick.
And Jones agreed to his deal the night before the draft, while Strasburg came within two minutes of missing last Monday's deadline to sign.
"I think the only way that you're going to get kids signed and get them into the various camps is to put some kind of cap on it," Jones said. "I was always of the belief that you make your money at the big-league level."
That's how the teams want it too. When the current collective bargaining agreement is up in two years, Major League Baseball may pursue an NBA-style slotting system -- with signing bonuses locked in depending on how high a player is picked, as opposed to the current non-binding slot recommendations.
From the Windup is Matt Snyder's extended look at some aspect of America's pastime each Thursday.
Bud Selig has been rightfully blamed for many of baseball's ills, like the notorious "juiced" era, the debacle during the 2009 World Series and a myriad of other issues. It's easy to paint him a scapegoat for everything -- and, make no mistake, I do it often. If for no other reason than for the purposes of symmetry, though, we should give him credit when it's due. So, Bud, I'd like to say thank you for the wild card.
It's a safe bet that there wasn't much of a race to bring Bud Selig a copy of Thursday's USA Today at the MLB offices on Thursday morning. After all, it's not exactly a strong career move to bring your boss an interview with a major league player making a mockery of everything you've said and done about performance-enhancing drugs in baseball.
That's just what Bronson Arroyodid in a wide-ranging interview that's required reading for anyone on any side of the debate of drug use in Major League Baseball. Arroyo starts by admitting he takes a slew of supplements that aren't on the league's approved list, and has never failed a drug test, and then goes on to lacerate just about every sacred cow of the baseball world.
A baseball, I'll remind you, is a lethal weapon. It's a rock-hard, tightly-wrapped object with a cork center that has killed one player and ruined the careers of others. In 1920, Ray Chapman was hit in the head by a pitch and died 12 hours later in a New York City hospital. More recently, in 1967, a promising young hitter named Tony Conigliaro was struck in the temple by a pitch that caused serious damage to his left retina and, eventually, led to his premature retirement because his eyesight was permanently blurred.
Call those rare occasions, if you insist. I'd say it's historical evidence that we're long overdue for another tragedy, especially if the sleepy lords of Major League Baseball continue to poo-poo the potential consequences of purpose-pitch retaliation. Yes, I realize that Milwaukee slugger Prince Fielder was hit on his very beefy leg Tuesday night by Dodgers reliever Guillermo Mota, which came in response to Manny Ramirez being plunked by Brewers reliever Chris Smith. But what made this episode so surreal -- and frightening -- was the sight of the 275-pound Fielder barreling through the underbelly of Dodger Stadium and trying to bust his way into the home clubhouse, where Prince wanted to crown Mota in front of 24 teammates who I'm fairly certain would have turned the scene into bloody-Octagon-meets-Evander Holyfield's ear.
The other night in Pittsburgh, where the city really is named after William Pitt and not its pits-of-the-world baseball franchise, a phenom named Andrew McCutchen hit three home runs. He joined a trio of titanic names in Pirates history -- Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell and Ralph Kiner -- among those who have achieved the feat. It's the sort of drop-dead brilliance envisioned when they summoned the dreadlocked stud from the minors in June.
"He's got tremendous bat speed and the ability to drive the ball," said his manager, John Russell.
NEW YORK -- Oh, it was a loaded question, all right. The guy that I expected to answer was Bud Selig, whose role as baseball commissioner expands beyond the new sacred walls in the Bronx that feature the plaques of Yankee greats.
NEW YORK -- The lords of baseball don't realize it, probably because they're old and stubborn and semi-senile. But their showcase event, the World Series, never has seemed more irrelevant in American life. I say it even as the 
Major League 
Major League Baseball welcomed 73,364,441 fans into stadiums this season, the fifth-highest total in the history of the game. That sounds great, until you realize that the total attendance numbers dropped 6.65 percent for the year, the steepest drop since 1952. Before you start sounding the recession alarm, however, it's important to note that there wasn't much chance of baseball avoiding a decline this season. 
Has it been 20 years? Wow, that's me. I'm glancing at the last photo in the middle of Roger Kahn's mostly toothless book in collaboration with 
Every Sunday, 
It's a safe bet that there wasn't much of a race to bring Bud Selig a copy of Thursday's USA Today at the 
A baseball, I'll remind you, is a lethal weapon. It's a rock-hard, tightly-wrapped object with a cork center that has killed one player and ruined the careers of others. In 1920, Ray Chapman was hit in the head by a pitch and died 12 hours later in a New York City hospital. More recently, in 1967, a promising young hitter named Tony Conigliaro was struck in the temple by a pitch that caused serious damage to his left retina and, eventually, led to his premature retirement because his eyesight was permanently blurred.
The other night in Pittsburgh, where the city really is named after William Pitt and not its pits-of-the-world baseball franchise, a phenom named 
