The 30 Greatest Sports Conspiracy Theories of All-Time - Elliott Kalb [18]
The Cleveland Indians’ top pitcher was knuckleballer Tom Candiotti. Candiotti and forty-seven-year-old knuckleball pitcher Phil Niekro started sixty-six games for the Indians that year, and they desperately needed to bring in some new blood. Yet in the months before the 1987 season, the Indians did not sign a free agent pitcher until April 4—when they signed forty-three-year-old Steve Carlton, five years past his last twenty-win season.
There were other pitchers on the free agent market that winter, of course. They could have gone after Doyle Alexander (who would help the Tigers win the division in 1987 with spectacular pitching down the stretch). They could have gone after John Denny (11-10 with a 4.20 ERA with Cincinnati). They could have gone after the aforementioned Guidry. Instead, they sat and did nothing. Could there be any greater evidence of collusion?
Cleveland wound up regressing to 61-101 in 1987. Candiotti won only seven of his twenty-five decisions. Forty-eight-year-old Phil Niekro started twenty-two games, and won only seven. Carlton was traded to Minnesota in July.
On February 18, 1987, the MLBPA filed their second grievance in two years. The first collusion grievance was decided in favor of the players, as seven of the 1985 free agents were awarded a “new look” free agency, whereby they could offer their services to any team without losing their existing contract. This ruling enabled Kirk Gibson to sign with the Los Angeles Dodgers (three years, $4.5 million). All Gibson did was win the Most Valuable Player award and hit one of the most famous home runs in World Series history, beating Athletics closer Dennis Eckersley in Game One.
In October of 1989, arbitrator George Nicolau ruled against the owners again in the second collusion case and awarded damages of $38 million to the players. That also meant that the Boones, Guidrys, and Gedmans of the world were afforded a second chance at free agency. It doesn’t seem a punishment that fit the crime, as many of the players had signed one-year contracts anyway. Plus, many of the players were frustrated by the process. Tim Raines, for example, would have been a new-look free agent, but waived that right after agreeing to a three-year deal with Montreal worth $6.3 million.
The owners weren’t through with their little games, either. Following the 1987 season, the owners—defeated in court—said in essence, “You got us. We’ll make bids and go after free agents.” What they did, however, was cooperate with one another by telling each other what their offers were. As a result, Nicolau ruled a year later that the market must be “free and unencumbered.” It really isn’t a free agent system if teams can participate and conspire to keep prices down. Why would a team make an outrageous offer to a player, when it knew it didn’t have to?
On July 18, 1990, the owners lost their third straight collusion case in court. This time, owners faced damages of $64 million (more than the first two decisions combined). Still, with salaries for hundreds of Major League players stalled and even declining, the $64 million didn’t seem too bad a pill for the ownership to swallow. The Players Union is nothing if not dogged, however, and a final settlement was reached in November of 1990. The owners agreed to pay the players $280 million in a lump sum. It was up to the union to evenly distribute it. By paying this sum, the owners essentially admitted that they had stolen that $280 million from their players.
Before the start of the 1989 season, Peter Ueberroth stepped down as Commissioner of Baseball to pursue other interests, such as the purchase of the Pebble Beach golf course with partners Arnold Palmer and Clint Eastwood. The scenic holes on the golf course never asked him for more money,