It looks more and more like baseball is going on strike. Again. Let me say before I get too far into this that the issues are very real, and that all things considered a disastrous work stoppage leading to dramatic downsizing of the game may be baseball’s best hope long-term.

The professional game, that is. I don’t think baseball as it is played at the youth and amateur levels across the country will suffer significantly. Baseball no longer occupies a place as the undisputed king of American sports (if football hasn’t surpassed baseball entirely, it nonetheless ranks alongside it in the public mind), but it’s still widely loved and played by millions of Americans ranging in age from under six to over 70.

At any rate, there are some basic questions I want to address as we approach the second October without a World Series in the last eight years.

Q: If baseball does shut down, whose fault is it?

A: This one is probably on the players, although from a fan’s perspective the correct answer is “it doesn’t really matter.”

I’m not sure I believe Bud Selig when he tells me that a vast majority of Major League teams are losing money. (For that matter, I’m not sure I’d believe him if he told me that the sky is blue.) However, you have only to look at the disparity between big market teams and small market teams to see there’s a serious issue that, even if not threatening the financial health of the game to the extent the owners claim, is nonetheless ruining it from a competitive standpoint. (If Bud wants me to buy his “sky is falling” act, he needs to open the damned books.)

And I’m thinking that the big/small dichotomy isn’t even right anymore – it’s really evolved into a three-headed dynamic: small markets vs. big markets vs. the Yankees, who now have the capacity to grossly outspend the other big market franchises.

All the owners except George Steinbrenner (who I’ve been telling everybody for years is the devil incarnate) know that the game needs a new financial structure that will ensure a modicum of competitive balance on the field. You can’t really have a healthy game when fans of 80% of the teams in the league know that they’re mathematically eliminated by Opening Day.

Q: So, what’s the answer?

A: Baseball needs something like modified socialism, although the player’s union and Satanbrenner are having none of it.

Serious, balls-to-the-wall profit sharing, a hard cap, things like that. A system that insures that all teams in the league have a chance to compete financially. If they lose because they’re stupid, well, that’s fine. But a system where a smart GM in Kansas City has a legitimate chance to beat a smart GM in New York. A system where the real question at the beginning of the year is a bit more compelling than, “wonder who the Yanks will be playing in the Series this year?”

Q: What should fans do if baseball walks out on us again?

A: Vote with your wallet, for at least two years.

This is pretty harsh advice given the realities I describe above, I know, but players and owners need to be given an unambiguous message that even they can’t ignore, ever again. A message whose power won’t wane before the next bargaining cycle. A message they’ll be talking and writing about 100 years from now.

Attendance is down something like 5000 fans a game since the last strike, but that’s not sufficient (obviously – if it were, we wouldn’t be hearing a peep about a strike now, would we?)

Here is my personal manifesto, and anybody who knows me even a little bit knows that I’ll live by it come hell or high water.

• If there is a work stoppage that causes the cancellation of even one game, either this year or next:
• I will not attend a Major League Baseball game, event or function of any sort for at least two years.
• I will not purchase any Major League merchandise or paraphernalia for the same period of time.
• I will not wear or display any Major League merchandise or paraphernalia that I already own during this period, and I may even burn it publicly.
• I will not watch Major League Baseball on television for the duration of this boycott, even if my beloved Braves make it to the World Series. (If I’m tempted to cheat on this promise and do find myself watching an occasional game, I will make sure to lie about it to friends, family, co-workers, and if I am so blessed, the Nielsen Corporation.)
• I will make every effort not to acknowledge, even in casual conversation, that Major League Baseball exists.
• To the extent that it’s possible, I will not patronize any company that sponsors or supports, in any fashion, Major League Baseball. (This one is tough, and I know it, but I’ll make the effort, and I will also take advantage of any opportunity that arise to inform said sponsors that I’m boycotting them, too.)

I’m not asking anybody out there to sign a petition or rally in front of Coors Field or anything, but if enough of us simply make this kind of pledge to ourselves and keep it, when baseball resumes it will do so to drastically smaller crowds, distressingly low TV ratings, and with a little luck, an openly hostile advertising market.

It takes a little willpower, but all things considered what I’m describing is a small sacrifice if it sends a message to the folks responsible for the state we find ourselves in (and by this I mean sending a message to their wallets, which is the only kind of message they understand).

When the next contract expires, it would be nice if people on both sides were to say, “we don’t care how much money we’re losing as a result of the deal we signed last time, a work stoppage is not an option.”

Even better – understand that the players and owners of the NFL, NHL and NBA are watching, too.

Q: Could this actually work?

A: Hell no, it won’t work, because fans are sheep.

I hate to say it, but there’s about as much risk of baseball fans buckling down and getting it right as there is of Don Fehr and Bud Selig stripping naked, joining arms and singing “Kumbaya” during the 7th inning stretch of Game 7 at this year’s Brewers-Devil Rays World Series.

Final question.

Q: But, I love baseball. How can I go without the game for two years?

A: You don’t have to.

Go watch college baseball, or the minor leagues. Get invested in your local high school team. Watch the kids play, and reintroduce yourself to the game as it is played by people who do so simply because they love it.

Better yet, play the game. There are adult baseball leagues all over the country, including the National Adult Baseball Association, which operates leagues for players of all skill levels and age groups (even including 50 and over leagues in some places). I’ve been playing in the NABA for several years now, and if you really love the game I promise you this beats the absolute hell out of flushing your hard-earned money on prima donna millionaire players and billionaire owners who are worse than the players.

Any more questions?