The Daily Prospectus: Loyalty

Most arguments that players aren’t loyal anymore ignore the fact that for
most of baseball history, there was no opportunity for them to be loyal.
Players didn’t choose their employer at any time after their teenage years;
once they signed with a team, they were bound to that team until said team
didn’t want them anymore. Staying with one team for a long period of time
didn’t reflect loyalty: it reflected the reserve clause.

Teams weren’t "loyal" any longer than they needed to be: even
inner-circle Hall of Famers like Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, and
Christy Mathewson found themselves cut loose or dealt by their
long-time employers late in their careers. These moves may not have been
popular, but they were accepted as the way the business was run. The notion
that a team should be loyal to a player after he’d outlived his usefulness
to them didn’t enter into the decision.

It wasn’t until players gained some control over their movements–the same
control you and I have–that the notion of loyalty entered the discussion.
Suddenly, a player changing teams during the course of his career was seen
as disloyal. Trades were fine, releasing a player was fine, but for a
player to elect to leave a team with which he’d been playing…oh, no, that
player was disloyal.

One of the great conflicts in this area is no-trade clauses. A player who
wants a no-trade clause is effectively saying, " I want to stay here. I
want to be loyal. I don’t want to leave." Yet requesting a no-trade
clause is interpreted as the sign of a greedy player, demanding special
privileges and standing in the way of a team’s success. A team–say, the
Athletics–that doesn’t want to provide a no-trade clause to a player who
wants to play with them and only them–say, Jason Giambi–is
effectively choosing its own form of free agency; the opportunity to be
disloyal if it no longer wants to maintain the relationship with the player.

Recently, Fred McGriff invoked his no-trade clause to block a trade
to the Chicago Cubs. McGriff is 37 years old, married, a father, and has
been playing in his hometown for the past three-and-a-half seasons. He
didn’t want to leave, and when his employer attempted to transfer him, he
said so.

McGriff’s loyalty, in this case, was less to his ballclub and more to his
family. In fact, his initial decision to stay in Tampa seems to me an
extreme expression of loyalty: putting the needs and wants of his family
ahead of the potential to be a hero in another city, and perhaps enhance his
chance at making the Hall of Fame. With the backing of his family,
he
eventually accepted the deal, but at no point was McGriff held up as an
example of a player who wanted to be loyal. His character was questioned,
with nasty innuendo about how McGriff would rather put up numbers for a bad
team than contribute to a good one.

There are other examples, but I’ll stop here. The point is clear, though:
players are expected to subjugate their needs and desires when they have
freedom to do so, to exercise their opportunity to be loyal, but teams are
not held to the same standard. In fact, players are expected to set aside
their loyalty if it’s convenient for their team, even if it disrupts their
lives.

It stinks.

Matt Lawton never got a chance to be loyal. Lawton just busted his
ass for bad baseball teams for five years, then finally got the opportunity
to play for a good one and be part of something special. His reward was a
one-way ticket to fourth place. Remember him when you want to get mad at
your local free agent this winter.

Joe Sheehan is an author of Baseball Prospectus. You can contact him by
clicking here.