For the Love of the Game

A couple of Saturdays ago, my son and I joined a friend and his son to catch a Newark Bears baseball game. The Bears play in the Can-Am League, which could be called Minor League baseball only in the most generous sense of the word. The teams are independent, meaning that they have no affiliation with any Major League Baseball franchises. The salary cap keeps costs down, and the maximum salary cap for a rostered player is about $4000 for every 1 to 2 months. To put that in perspective, Alex Rodriguez makes more than $185,000 per game ($30 million divided by 162).

I had attended a game last years, and as I had mentioned before, the experience is good for fans who want to get good seats while avoiding traffic jams, terrible parking, obscenely overpriced food and good baseball (okay, nobody want to avoid good baseball, but that's the trade-off). Unfortunately, we didn't even get the pleasure of seeing Carl Everett or Eric Munson, as our only token MLB washed-up veteran was Daryle Ward.

But it got me thinking, why do these guys play? For the money that they're making, it's clearly not for the money. They would certainly make more money if they got an professional office job or doing union labor, and it's not inconceivable that they would make more money doing stocking and clerk work at a Wal-Mart or Shop-Rite. And it struck me that they're probably some of the select few athletes that legitimately do what they do purely because they love the game.

It reminds me of that scene from the movie Office Space:

Peter Gibbons: Our high school guidance counselor used to ask us what you'd do if you had a million dollars and you didn't have to work. And invariably what you'd say was supposed to be your career. So, if you wanted to fix old cars then you're supposed to be an auto mechanic.

Samir: So what did you say?

Peter Gibbons: I never had an answer. I guess that's why I'm working at Initech.

Michael Bolton: No, you're working at Initech because that question is bullshit to begin with. If everyone listened to her, there'd be no janitors, because no one would clean shit up if they had a million dollars.

I can relate with Peter Gibbons, but also with the spirit of what Michael Bolton's logic. The point is that it's not simply about what you love to do, but a willingness to accept all that goes along with it, include the struggle to get there and the "downsides" when you don't.

Or to illustrate the point, my philosophy in terms of my children's aspirations for their careers is to try to provide as much information as possible to help them make a decision, and exert stronger disapproval should there a moral aspect to it. If my son wants to become a stand-up comedian, I would ask him about how he felt that would benefit society and then ask him if he was willing to deal with the very likely possibility that he wouldn't be the next Seinfeld, being forced to live a "struggling actor" life. If he wanted to be an investment banker, I'd similarly ask him about societal value and if he thought that how he would deal with the intense work-life balance challenges with a family and if how he would not be unduly influenced by a culture of greed. At the end of the day, I'd just want him to go in eyes wide open.

But for the independent minor league ballplayer who chooses the gig - even with the lack of pay, long bus rides and crappy motels - you can't help but admire their dedication to their craft, and their integrity in terms of doing what they do simply for the love of the game.