Opening Day, a time for speculation, is just about here. And when you come right down to it, the many accompanying predictions for the upcoming baseball season are really Tony Gwynn-hit or Sandy Koufax-miss — especially in today’s game where money is a driving force and it’s really impossible to know, with absolute certainty, which players truly care beyond the boundaries of their paycheck.
Try telling a young Pete Rose or pissed off Bob Gibson this is “all you’re contractually bound” to do, so take it easy — let that ankle bruise heal or that tender hammy rest another two weeks. No need to speculate on an answer.
Speculation persists why the sitting president, who once described himself as a “sureshot MLB prospect,” has not announced plans to turn Opening Day into a circus, swooping in to throw out the first pitch.
Where is his trademark shock and awe — going bi-coastal in that endeavor — maybe make one throw on the East Coast, then storm in on Air Force One to hit the West Coast (with an eye toward winning California the next time) — demonstrating the majesty of his office?
Is it because the once self-described blue-chip player did not want to be seen emulating FDR, by tossing a lob 4 or 5 feet from the box seats — not from the mound like the swashbuckler he dreams to be? This had all the makings of a Fox News exclusive with mound-to-mound coverage and an unctuous Sean Hannity comparing 47 to “all the greats of the game.” We can only speculate why it’s not happening.
But here in New York, baseball as a mirror of society commences, commences with the rollout of Aaron Judge and Juan Soto competing crosstown — this year and for many seasons to come. Forget Willie, Mickey and The Duke — this is going to be more like the Altruist and the Mercenary.
Admittedly it’s more than a stretch to call someone being paid $40 million a year to play baseball (as Judge is handsomely compensated) an altruist. But it’s a fact that Judge left money on the table to stay with the Yankees and it’s not a stretch that he may bleed pinstripe blue when it comes to the one and only Major League organization he has ever known — and chose to stay with.
Two years ago, Judge played out his contract, performed historically great, and entertained offers for his talents — as he was entitled to do. But he pulled it in and essentially said — enough — I want to be here, and you (San Diego) can take your millions and spend them elsewhere. His sincerity was palpable.
Conversely, Soto was like the guy who hocks his wedding ring before the separation agreement is signed. His interview in the dugout seconds after the Yankees’ heartbreaking Game 5 loss was particularly distasteful but give Juan credit — the guy is as unflinching with a script as he is with Tarik Skubal chin music. The sweat wasn’t yet dry, and he was already testing the waters to see who his fourth team in four years would be.
And so much for those beloved bleacher creatures…
Perhaps we’ll never know what swayed Soto to sign with the Mets. We can speculate it was some combination of free luxury suites, comped premium tickets, paid for security and private jets, even a wardrobe allowance for his mother. But we can likewise never imagine Judge even asking for such from the Yankees.
And let me float this notion for the first time — did Brian Cashman, convinced that Soto was going to squeeze the last for-hire dollar out of a no squeal-point Steve Cohen — stay in the negotiations just long enough to continue to jack up the price on the Mets?
I’m all for players getting every last dollar and I’m way past longing for the “Let’s Play Two!” mantra of indomitably optimistic Ernie Banks (today, they add an extra player to rosters when they do play two). I maintain that hitting a baseball — putting a round surface on a round surface — is the hardest thing to do in sports. All the wrongs heaped on Curt Flood alone justify all that today’s players get. But that doesn’t mean that certain players aren’t more mercenary when it comes to money.
“Blood Diamond” mercenary Danny Archer once uttered a famous last line: “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” One hopes Soto feels the same for each of his 15 years on the diamond at Citi Field.
It’d be almost… altruistic if he did.
Like a president stepping away after two terms.
Marotta is a filmmaker and writer.