Thoughts on Miller, Kuhn

Steve Goldman.

First and foremost: not elevating Marvin Miller is a complete embarrassment, especially when the snub is accompanied by the elevation of the cloddish nonentity Bowie Kuhn, a commissioner whose major accomplishment was being so insensitive, so deaf to the prevailing winds that he soured management's relations with the players for all time. This is a bit like building a monument to Richard Nixon on the national mall before you do one for John Adams, James Madison, or Batman. An objective reading of Kuhn's record reveals a man obsessed with protecting his own non-existent prerogatives but rarely succeeding. He certainly wasn't well-respected in his time. Bud Selig, for all the abuse he sometimes takes, is praised far more often than Kuhn ever was.

Miller opened up the game in all kinds of ways that still aren't fully appreciated. He gave the players the right to work where they choose, to bargain for wages at market rates, to shoring up their retirement benefits. He did this while fighting a group of owners that were almost medieval in their thinking when it came to dealing with their employees. The game that Miller helped create is the modern game, one where the freedom of movement given to players is a serious benefit to competitive balance. Prior, good teams stayed good and bad teams stayed bad because there was no fluidity. Now a team really can be rebuilt with some smart scouting, trading, and free agent signings.

Miller is still alive. Kuhn is dead, and elevating him doesn't accomplish anything except flipping the bird to a 90-year-old man. There's really no plausible argument for not enshrining Miller. Baseball honors its pioneers, and he's one. To treat him as if he's still the enemy is to treat the Players Association as if it's still the enemy, and that distorted viewpoint won't do anyone any favors. To use a somewhat unfortunate analogy, even Germany has memorials to the Holocaust and to those who defied the Nazis, such as Sophie Scholl.

Murray Chass.

Miller’s course is clear. He should not allow the Hall of Fame to kick him around any more.

After years of being slighted by not being considered at all, then being rejected three times in five years, Miller can tell the Hall: “Never mind, leave me off the ballot next time. Who needs it?”

Who, when the executives ballot comes up again in two years, needs the annoying, incessant telephone calls from reporters asking again what do you think your chances are, how do you feel about not having been elected thus far, why do you think you haven’t been elected?

“The only reason I didn’t do it this time,” he said, in reference to requesting not to be on the ballot, “was because I got talked out of it. People around me thought it was an unwise move to make, especially my wife. My feeling was I shouldn’t be on the ballot, but I let myself be persuaded one more time.”

Miller has had his chances, and he has given the Hall and its voters their chances. It’s time to pronounce a pox on their house and say he doesn’t want to be a member of a club that rejected him for membership three times.

The third time is supposed to be a charm. In this case, this was the third strike, and Miller should take his bat and ball and go home to a friendlier, appreciative environment.

Miller himself, still very sharp at 90.

In a telephone interview, Miller, 90, reacted with laughter and blunt words.

“Bowie Kuhn was a negative factor for baseball,” Miller said.

Could it be argued, Miller was asked, that the union’s gains through free agency were aided by Kuhn’s presence and Miller’s tactical ability against him?

“Without any question,” Miller said. “If he hadn’t existed, we would have had to invent him.”