Show me the money

In these economic times, how are some of these athletes still receiving such egregious contracts?

I found myself thinking last night about home-grown players who wind up playing for whatever team it is that they grew up idolizing. It saddens me that these types of players, or players who've spent a majority of their career with the same franchise, will still sign a contract for 40, 60, 80 million.

I have always dreamed that I'd someday either be A) the closer for the Sox, or B) the 1st basemen for the Sox. I think about what would happen if it was me who was called up. The financial and emotional tension that would arise seems astronomical. Think of all the people who were once acquaintances, now trying to become your friend. But that's not what this about. It's about doing what you love and getting paid for it.

It seems as if these athletes don't realize that their job entails the following:

1. Playing a professional sport and making millions of dollars in the process.

2. Signing autographs for kids who would give anything to be you.

3. Doing contract related stuff (i.e. Photo shoots, commercials, etc.).

4. Never working a day in a cubicle!

And this is what gets me. Hypothetically speaking, if I'm called up to close for the Sox, of course I take it. Let's even say I take it and I excel. Excel to the point that they want to negotiate some form of long term deal and avoid arbitration.

There we sit, negotiating a contract. Of course I represent myself, because agents are the worst thing to happen to baseball since the 1919 World Series. They push a paper across the table with an offer that basically looks like this: 4-year, 15 million. Sweet, they've got me locked in for 4 years and since I'm young, they know that in the last year or two of my contract, they'll be paying little for significant talent. But here's where the problem lies; I don't want 15 million. To put 15 million into perspective think of it as this: that's 750,000 dollars every year for the next 20 years. And to think that there are players who are making 20, 25, 28 million per year. If I ever get to a point in my life where I'm making 750,000 dollars and I feel that's still not enough, then someone needs to put me out of my misery.

In this scenario however, I tell them, "Hey, I love it here, the fans are great, how about we just do 4 year, 10 million." Now some might say, "Oh Rich, big deal you cut back 5 million but you're still getting 10 million." People don't realize how much financial constraint that a move like that alleviates. The MLB league minimum is $390,000. Think about it.

Others who are against big contracts may argue that 10 million is still far too much. Perhaps, but keep in mind, I may be playing on a team where a guy is making 18 million per season. He could be the best thing to happen to the city. Fans love him, he loves them. He sees a guy like me, merely an up-and-comer, taking a pay cut for the team. Imagine the heat that may come down on this guy. I mean this is the guy who can walk around his team's city and get more women then Don Draper. But what can you do.

Someday these players will realize that there's no 'I' in 'team'. But then again, they may already realize that there's a 'me' in 'money'.