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"But mostly I'm a hypocriteI sing songs about the deficit
But when I sell out and leave Omaha, what will I get?
A mansion house and a rabbit fur coat."
-- "Rabbit Fur Coat," Jenny Lewis
When I started thinking about this post, which was basically going to be a rant about how Manny Ramirez should get off his butt and tell the Devil Man that $23 million a year is enough to live on and sign with the Dodgers already, all of a sudden the Jenny Lewis song popped in my head.
And that changed my line of thinking. Listen, there is a lot to get angry about over the Ramirez saga. Manny and I are roughly the same age. But our situations couldn't be farther apart.
In the time that Boras and Manny have danced around with the Dodgers, I read about the announcement Monday that nearly 50,000 employees will lose their jobs at various companies. I have heard about businesses going under. I have learned that wages will be frozen at my job for the next year. I have watched my retirement and my child's college savings begin to evaporate. I have decided more than once that Doritos and a Coke will suffice for dinner because that's all the money I have left for the week. We have less time to spend with our own child because my wife took another job with longer hours that pays more.
Yeah, when I think about that, I wonder how I can follow this game anymore. But as the song says, we're ALL looking to get out of Omaha. And what will happen if we get lucky enough and see that stinkin' town/life in our tail lights? Will we remember the way things used to be? Or will we try to get as much money as we can, because we remember the way things used to be? Because we remember fighting to keep the one thing that had meaning in our former life, that rabbit fur coat.
I don't know what goes through the minds of rich ballplayers. But enough of them jump at the big pay day that I have to think it's a very normal, human thing to do. The fear of the future is as real to them as it is to us. Really, they're not any different than us, except they can play baseball exceptionally well.
Manny will end up with an ungodly amount of money (he probably already has more than he knows what to do with), whether he plays for the Dodgers or not. But living with all that cash is a crazy existence. And I'm sure he carries with him a few reminders of the old days growing up in Washington Heights, knowing very little English. Whatever he valued at that time, whatever his rabbit fur coat was then, is probably still with him today.
If I was in the same situation, I'd like to think I'd do things a little differently. But I probably wouldn't. I'd be a rich man, still worried about the future and still clinging to the past.
Comments
That said, nice way to work in the Jenny Lewis reference. Good song.
You talk abot the ballplayers having a fear of the future. Every one of them knows that a time will come when the skillset that has gotten them by their entire life will no lnoger allow them to earn a living. Moreover, for most, this will happen by their early to mid-30's. A few will be able to make it to 40. That's why they feel like they have to cash in.
Now for many, they're cashing in to maintain a lifestyle of 3-4 houses, big cars, fast cars, drivers, etc. that we can't understand. That makes it difficult to identify with them, but your post really does help.
I hear people bemoan that they're not worth what they're getting paid. Adam Smith said they're worth what someone is willing and able to pay. It's fortuitous for them. Albert Pujols has a particular skillset that only a few hundred in the world have and Mark Lamping is willing to pay $15 M/year for it. However if Albert had been born 200 years ago, it wouldn't be worth anything.
I don't like Devil Man's tactics, but I can understand Manny wanting to find out what someone is willing and able to pay for his skills.