The Pentagon Paid 10 MLB Teams $900,000 to Be Patriotic

Big week for politics and baseball. The morning after Election Day brought good news for the Rays, Giants, and Lance Berkman, Republican Senators John McCain and Jeff Flake of Arizona released their report on taxpayer-funded troop tributes at sporting events. We already knew that the Department of Defense was paying NFL teams to honor the troops as a covert recruitment tactic, and Congress banned the use of taxpayer money to pay for military tributes in the latest National Defense Authorization Act. But today's report is the first confirmation we have that the scandal extended to the other major American sport leagues, including MLB. Ten baseball teams were confirmed to have accepted at least $898,085 from the military since fiscal year 2012 for events like saluting the troops or singing God Bless America, and the report points out that there are probably more such instances yet to be discovered. The details:

• The Atlanta Braves received the most money of any MLB team, $450,000, in exchange for four on-field presentations, including one of those touching "surprise homecoming" ceremonies; sponsorship of multiple "Military Appreciation Days" at Turner Field; and Georgia National Guard members being featured on the Jumbotron.
• The Boston Red Sox received $100,000 in exchange for Fenway tickets for the Massachusetts Army National Guard.
• The Milwaukee Brewers were paid $80,000 for the Wisconsin National Guard's sponsorship of God Bless America at every Sunday home game; for soldiers and their families to be recognized at games between innings; for troops to have on-field access for an award presentation; and for access to a private suite.
• The New York Mets received $50,000, including $10,000 toward an on-field swearing-in ceremony.
• The Philadelphia Phillies received $48,085 from the US Navy in exchange for tickets and credit at the concession stands.
• The Texas Rangers received $75,000 in exchange for US Air Force color-guard ceremonies at games, game tickets, the ability for Texas National Guardsmen to sing the national anthem, and a special on-field "batting practice night" for Texas National Guard members.
• The Arizona Diamondbacks were paid $40,000 so that members of the Arizona National Guard could go to games, be sworn in at an on-field ceremony, do a color guard demonstration, throw the first pitch, and deliver the scorecard before the game.
• The Houston Astros were paid $25,000 in exchange for a Texas National Guard Appreciation Night, which included a swearing-in ceremony, as well as dugout seats and a private suite.
• The Pittsburgh Pirates received $18,000 so that a US Air Force soldier could sing the national anthem and Delayed Entry Program members could be sworn in on the field.
• The Cleveland Indians got $12,000 to host an on-field Air Force swearing-in ceremony.

Nationalism has always been inextricably linked to baseball, but patriotism at ballparks has really reached a fever pitch in the last decade or so. The over-the-top tributes that many teams put on often do feel like marketing campaigns, and now we know why. It's hard not to be cynical about this if you thought that teams were genuinely honoring America.

The Red Sox' Embarrassment of Riches in the Outfield May Just Be an Embarrassment

No team has embraced the concept of "depth is a good problem to have" more than the Red Sox. Ben Cherington's motto is "sign first, ask questions later," whether it's signing Yoan Moncada to join an infield under team control for the rest of the decade or adding Hanley Ramírez to an outfield that already had six starting-caliber players. I'll admit I've drunk the Kool-Aid; the big-market team is in a great position to translate money into prospects by establishing embarrassing depth at multiple positions, then trading extremely valuable players they no longer need. Call it the Yoenis Céspedes strategy.

The infield is a problem to be tackled another year, but with the start of spring training, the auditions for the 2015 Red Sox outfield have begun. The team has eight major-league-caliber outfielders for five total roster spots (given that some can also play first base, you may be able to squeeze that to six or seven). There are obviously only three starting outfield positions, but each of the players has either been a successful starter in the past or is a prospect who has been a successful starter in the minors and is thought to be capable of the same at Fenway. The players are Ramírez, Rusney Castillo, Shane Victorino (the three likeliest starters), Jackie Bradley Jr., Mookie Betts (the two whom it's still possible to assign to the minor leagues), Daniel Nava, Allen Craig (the logical choices for the outfield bench), and Brock Holt (the possible backup outfielder who will probably occupy the roster spot for backup infielder).

It seems like, no matter in what combination the team chooses to deploy these eight players, they can't lose. It's why they were able to trade Céspedes to the Tigers and still feel like they had insurance policy after insurance policy in the outfield. But, in true Red Sox fan fashion, I'm worried. Despite all this, it remains entirely possible that the Red Sox will have a poor outfield in 2015—for while every player listed above has vast potential, none is a sure thing.

I present the pessimist's view of the Red Sox outfield:

• Hanley Ramírez is incredible when he's on the field, but you can pretty much count on some DL time for him every year. In 2013, he played just 86 games; last year he made it up to 128. In left field, he'll also be playing a position he has never manned in his entire major-league career. The Green Monster affords even more opportunities for him to get injured, and learning a new position has been known to lead to slumps at the plate as well.
• Rusney Castillo is supposed to be the next big thing out of Cuba, but his $72.5 million contract is more a reflection of the exploding costs of international free agents than a free-market determination that he is José Abreu's equal. There is a fierce split among scouts over whether he profiles as anything more than a fourth outfielder.
• Shane Victorino is 34 years old. He has just one good season in the last three: 2013, when he exceeded all expectations and helped lead the Red Sox to a World Series. Those positive memories are nice, but they mask the much more plausible story of a player in decline. This is a guy whose core skill set—the things that made him valuable in his youth—has practically evaporated. The one-time switch-hitter was so incapable from the left side of the plate that he gave it up in late 2013, and he was besieged by injuries in 2014—the kind that are poison for a guy who relies on speed (hamstring) and outfield defense (back).
• What can I say that hasn't already been said about Jackie Bradley Jr.? He's still just 24, but after two seasons with the Red Sox produced a batting line of .196/.268/.280, it's fair to wonder if he'll ever make the adjustments necessary for the majors. The Red Sox can't afford to sacrifice a starting spot just to see those kinds of numbers again, and while he's one of the best outfield defenders in baseball right now, they can't afford to devote a roster spot just to a defensive replacement either.
• Mookie Betts is beloved in Boston after bursting onto the scene in 2014 and hitting .291/.368/.444; many will question my lumping him into the rest of the question marks in this outfield. But the reality is that he sustained those excellent rate stats for just 213 plate appearances. Before 2013 he didn't even rate among the Red Sox' top 20 prospects; this just wasn't a breakout anyone saw coming. One more solid year would convince me, but I'm just not sure he's for real yet.
• To me, Daniel Nava is the most reliable player on this list—a testament to my on-base percentage and walk fetish. But, in truth, he's overextended as a starter, never recording more than 458 at-bats. He's best suited as a platoon player, as he hit just .159/.209/.190 against lefties in 2014.
• Allen Craig was one of the most underrated players in baseball during his 2011–2013 run with the Cardinals, but he fell off a cliff in 2014, a decline many attribute to a nagging foot injury. This season will determine which version is for real, but it's hard to be patient with him when his suckiness is this sucky (.215/.279/.315 in 2014, and even worse after the trade to Boston).
• Brock Holt! became a cult favorite in Boston last year mostly on the strength of one hot stretch. In fact, he rated as merely average (a 100 OPS+) over the course of the year. While his versatility in the field means he'll always have value, he's really just a complementary piece, not a solution at any one position.
  

In short, it's not hard to imagine a scenario where all or most of these players again fail to live up to Boston's hopes and expectations. In fact, we've already seen that scenario: it was called the 2014 season. Possibly—but hopefully not—last year showed us what happens when a team relies on throwing stuff against the wall and seeing what sticks. Especially considering they're a big-market team with a creative GM, I find myself wishing the Red Sox would just acquire three solid outfielders and call it a day.

Occupy Fenway? Red Sox Nation as a Protest Movement

Here's a fact that would have been unfathomable in the days before social media: after 14 games, Boston is calling for Red Sox manager Bobby Valentine's dismissal. While this would be a foolish overreaction, it's born of a very real problem: they may cost $146 million, but the 4-10 Red Sox aren't playing like it.

The team's struggles famously stretch back to last year, when the Bloody Hose went 7-20 in September and blew a massive Wild Card lead. After the season, Red Sox Nation reacted with unprecedented ferocity, leading to the departure of foundational leaders Terry Francona and Theo Epstein—victims of one of the most unforgiving PR firestorms in memory.

Obviously, when a team is floundering, it attracts its fair share of vitriol. The 2012 Red Sox have picked up just where the 2011 version left off—earlier this week, their lightning rod of a manager was perceived to have slandered one of his players, prompting rebukes and a mini-mutiny from the rest of the clubhouse. There are already columns saying he has lost control of his players and that he's not long for the city of Boston.

But I believe there is a another dimension to the bad press that isn't so ordinary, one that can be teased out from some of the most extreme excoriations of last year's Red Sox. That team struck a chord with Bostonians, and not a good one either. It's a chord that was already sensitive from another event that shared the headlines with the Sox' epic collapse that September and October: Occupy Wall Street.

You see, the 2011 Red Sox were attacked not just for poor performance on the field, nor even for poor managerial decisions. They were attacked for being lazy, entitled, and—most interestingly—rich.

The first rumblings can be seen in a story by Boston Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy from September 23 arguing that the Red Sox were "not worthy" of a playoff spot. "Really, how do you root for these guys anymore? They have the third-highest payroll in baseball," Shaughnessy wrote, rather starkly connecting the two. In a line straight out of the French Revolution, he concluded, "These Sox have simply been too fat and too happy too long."

Then came the post-season post mortem, in which it was infamously revealed that the Red Sox' imploding starting pitchers, including $82.5 million bust John Lackey, were eating chicken and drinking beer in the clubhouse instead of hitting the gym to correct the fact that they were out of shape. It's the baseball equivalent of AIG throwing a lavish party two weeks after receiving a government bailout—except instead of revelry funded by taxpayer money, it was sloth funded (indirectly) by the ticket purchases of hardworking Bostonians. (Without that record sellout streak, the Red Sox wouldn't have one of the game's highest payrolls.) In both cases, the recipients of those public monies acted as if they were entitled to the money and/or the attendant indulgence, despite the fact that they used the cash for the opposite purpose for which it was intended (i.e., to do their jobs). Perhaps it would have been different if they had been doing these things while also performing at an acceptable level, but between AIG's role in the financial meltdown and the Red Sox' awful play, neither was showing why they deserved the massive salaries they were making. It is that kind of perceived upper-class greed that Occupy Wall Street was formed in response to.

The article also revealed that the unhappy Red Sox were treated to a night on owner John Henry's luxury yacht as a conciliatory gesture—reminding fans of his own privileged position. In the immediate aftermath of the September collapse, much of the rage in Boston actually centered on Henry, Larry Lucchino, et al. for this very reason. As the organization they had built appeared to crumble and, eventually, implode, Henry was cast as impotent and aloof. Accusations that his attention had turned to his "shiny new toy"—the Liverpool soccer club he recently acquired—at the expense of the Red Sox persist to this day. This, too, is not so different from, say, a noble-purposed investment-banking firm becoming more and more obsessed with profit and forsaking the customers who trusted it.

I believe that the rage against the Red Sox last October—and, perhaps, to some extent this April—was so very tinged with populism because it came from the same place within society as more traditional, "legitimate" social movements. I don't think you would have seen the same timbre of reaction if the economy hadn't been in the tank, or if income inequality hadn't become the issue of the moment. But they were, and Occupy Wall Street was hardly the only protest movement to reflect it. While it sits at the opposite end of the ideological spectrum, the Tea Party has similar roots: dissatisfaction, anti-elitism, disillusionment, and even desperation—the feeling that the only recourse left open to effect change is getting up and shouting. History is filled with other examples from similarly desperate times: the rise of the pro-silver Populist Party in the 1890s, the Depression-era Bonus Army, and more.

All of these things could also explain the anger against the BoSox. Red Sox Nation, already in a fragile state of mind due to the economy and the Occupy-related turmoil around them, wanted to turn to its baseball team for solace—but instead experienced only more heartbreak. Just like the Occupy protesters, fans grasped for an explanation of what had happened to them, and why something that had seemed so secure did not work out. How did it happen that millions who did everything right—saved for retirement, lived within their means, worked hard at their jobs—still lost everything when the recession hit? How did a team that was supposed to be the Greatest Team Ever suddenly forget how to win? To be clear, I'm not equating the two in importance or severity; I'm merely pointing out that they are different degrees of the same emotion.

When confronted with such confusing and inexplicable realities, an inevitable reaction throughout history has been to lash out at elites, whose success during difficult times has always made them an easy target. For Red Sox fans, instead of Barack Obama or Wall Street bankers, their elites were the owners and the millionaire players, and their proletariat was the most price-gauged fan base in baseball. I'll never forget one conversation I had with a Red Sox fan last October—she practically spat her disgust at the monied interests on Yawkey Way. "These ballplayers are paid millions of dollars to do what, exactly?" she said. "They've completely forgotten about the fans who are paying their salaries." Just replace "ballplayers" with "politicians" and "fans" with "taxpayers," and you have a pretty good summary of the discontent felt all around America these days.

Today, with both Occupy Wall Street and Occupy Boston evicted from their respective parks and the Tea Party's influence on the wane, the criticism for the Red Sox and Bobby Valentine does not appear to carry the same loaded associations—despite the fact that the political discontent is still very much alive. Perhaps this is simply because the sports media does not find those associations relevant or timely any longer. After all, most of the baseball populism in October originated from columnists and pundits—ironically elites themselves—and then trickled down to the fan base. So is it truly populism, then? Was the Tea Party (led by Senator Jim DeMint and millionaire Sarah Palin)? Was Occupy (whose "intellectual foundation" was laid by a Harvard professor)?

These are questions that may only be answerable with a sociology degree with a special focus on protest movements—certainly a fascinating field at this particular moment in history. Hopefully, such a degree would not ignore how these social movements come to consume other aspects of our daily life, including sports. It may not be as "important," academically speaking (or even practically speaking), but it can teach us just as much about how these movements are birthed and nourished. When the textbook on the Great Recession is written, it would be a mistake not to include a chapter on the 2011 Boston Red Sox.