By Jared Chausow
By Katie Toth
By Elizabeth Flock
By Albert Samaha
By Anna Merlan
By Jon Campbell
By Jon Campbell
By Albert Samaha
The jury's still out on the bizarre announcement last week that Major League umps will resign en masse on September 2. Was it a clever bargaining move or a suicidal mission by Richie Phillips, chief of the umpires union?
"It strikes me as a kind of not too intelligent ploy to renegotiate a contract that's not yet over," says Marvin Miller, the founding director of the baseball players union. Before he negotiated the first collective bargaining agreement in U.S. pro sports, Miller spent years with the steelworkers union. It's his knowledge of labor law that has him most skeptical. "If the union encourages a stoppage, it can be sued under the Taft-Hartley Act," Miller tells Jockbeat.
It doesn't matter whether a work stoppage is from an official strike or a mass resignation if a union's leadership is clearly spearheading it, and there's a no-strike clause in the contract, it's breaking the collective-bargaining agreement and thus in violation of federal labor law. Therefore, Miller thinks management is in the driver's seat. "The owners have a number of options," Miller says. For instance, MLB can accept the resignations, and then look for replacements. "There's not even the stain of recruiting scabs," he says.
For that reason, Miller isn't necessarily persuaded by the potential unionization of minor league umps. "Minor league umpires are paid miserably," Miller says. "They'd be awfully tempted to be offered that kind of scale on a permanent basis."
MLB can also choose to accept only the resignations of those umpires it's been itching to fire. And, says Miller, if all the resignations are accepted, he thinks MLB's got a pretty strong case to completely disregard the union. "If the whole bargaining unit resigns, and you hire a whole new work force, as an employer you can raise the question as to whether the union still represents them," he points out.
In the unlikely event that management caves in, Miller says he will revise his opinion. "Then I'll have to say Phillips is brilliant," he chuckles, "or the owners are dumb."
The 170 km mark of the Tour de France's 12th stage turned out to be a nice perch for a glimpse of les coureurs, as well as a fruitful spot for glomming various Tour-related bounty thrown from the endless caravanne publicitaire. Long before stage leader (and eventual winner) David Etxebarria zipped by, Jockbeat had accumulated the following: three cotton Credit Lyonnais backpacks, four Elfi propane key rings, 12 packets of Ambre Solaire suntan lotion, 10 hats (from Champion Supermarkets, Ola cell phones, and Festina watches), two gendarme pens ("Une Force Humaine"), one copy of Le Velo magazine, seven packets of Haribo (Good-n-Plentylike) candy, one Saucisson Cochonous, one FO (a labor union) yo-yo, two video tapes touting French satellite dishes, two Michelin souvenir Tour maps, two rolls of stringy black licorice, one "Maxi Compil" CD (featuring the Jacksons, Earth, Wind & Fire, and a group called Hysteric Ego), and two rubber balls from the Ministry of the Interior proclaiming, "La Sécurité C'est l'Affaire de Tous."
Contributors: Allen Barra, Joanna Cagan, John Stravinsky
Sports Editor: Miles D. Seligman