Open Your Wallets

Spring training is here again!!  GMs take out their REAL money  this time. Something expensive will be bought, eh, excuse me, someone will be hiredwho will make a  “difference.” With prices like this, no one’s blowing smoke now.  (Or they hope you don’t notice.)

To open the bidding, Colorado’s Nolan Arenado is available.  He hits home runs, drives in other tallies and wins a Gold Glove every year.   In time, he could replace Mike Schmidt as baseball’s best third baseman ever!  But his cost –for you,  is 8 years at a total of $260 million!  A bargain –just listen to his agent.

And that’s not the only valuable player this Spring!  Manny Machado has flown West from his Baltimore career, and landed in Sunny San Diego.  He is a bargain costing only $300 million over a 10 year span.

 The Phillies did not sit back either.  Bryce Harper became their employee for a baker’s dozen of years at a cost of a mere $330 million.  Bryce has been thinking about such a contract since he was a junior in high school.

But wait, folks, what about the man who has been known as the G.O.A .T. since his sophomore year in MLB? The Angels have paid Mike Trout what he’s worth:  12 years for $430 million?! (see below) Great player, fine young man, and I bet he’s good to dogs, too.


Yes, it’s true that big league youngsters have to wait their turn at the pay window.  But the wait looks worth it (say the owners).  As Google told me, Joe DiMaggio (see below, with “friend”)  was the first ballplayer to earn six figures: 100,000, in 1949.



Ted Williams took home $125,000 in 1952.  Willie Mays was worth every penny of his $133,000 salary in 1966.  And, yes, children, Pete Rose signed with the Phillies in 1978 for 3.24 million…for four years!  I bet he hustled to the pay window as quick as he went from first to third on a single.  Whatever happened to ‘ol Pete?




About rcarmean

Two things... First, why have I decided to establish this blog? I like to put essays together. I research an idea or topic looking for information, statistics, stories, quotes, pictures, etc. I enjoy the process and seeing a finished product. I’m told that as I get older, new activities can help maintain energy and keep my brain alert. In other words, I am not doing this for money or fame. Second, regarding the gentleman in the collage of pictures's not me. Those are photos of Christy Mathewson. Why him? When I was young, my primary activity was being sick. It took up much of my time. Eczema (a case so bad I was written up in a medical journal showing doctors what their patients COULD look like), asthma, and allergies. You know allergies: don’t eat this, don’t wear that, and, for Heaven’s sake, don’t touch any of these things (eg, dogs, cats, horses --I only saw horses in cowboy movies and TV shows, dust, swimming pools, my brother --OK, that’s an exaggeration, Rick was a fine brother). In my spare time between doctors' appointments, pills, and ointments, baseball kept me sane. In the 1940s and 1950s, when I grew up, pro footballI and basketball had not yet become extremely popular. Baseball truly was “the national pastime.” I listened to games on the radio (remember it? TV without the picture). I read magazines, books, and newspaper accounts of games. I collected baseball cards. I learned about the game’s history, as well as present. The same with its stars. One man stood out: Christy Mathewson. He was a great pitcher for the New York Giants in the early 20th century. But there was much more to him. At a time when professional athletes made little money (yes, there was such a time) and ball players were considered on the same level as actors, artists, and prostitutes, Mathewson stood out. One of his nicknames was: “The Christian Gentleman.” Most men is baseball drank, smoked, cursed, and fought —with other players, umpires, and fans. The fights were physical, not just verbal. Mathewson did none of these things. But he earned the respect of other players who did them all. Even Ty Cobb and John McGraw. There’s more. He was a college graduate (Bucknell University) when most men were lucky to have a high school diploma. He played other sports, including pro football which you wouldn’t recognize. He was handsome. He played in New York City, then as now, the largest city in the country. Excellence and popularity there meant fame and money. He dressed well. Today, his commercials would rival LeBron’s. And, finally, a hero’s life must have tragedy. After his playing career ended, WWI arrived. He suffered from influenza and was exposed to mustard gas. Chemical warfare. His lungs were damaged and he required treatment for the rest of his life. (Like my Grandfather who also fought in The Great War.) He died in 1925. He was 45 years old. I have his picture here because you need to know more about him than me. He was what an athlete could be. Players like him and their accomplishments got me through a sickly, painful childhood and can still sustain me in difficult times. *****
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