Just because negotiators for the players and the owners seem to be getting along famously these days – better yet, these years—it doesn’t mean they agree on everything. If they did – and wouldn’t that be boring – the Logan Morrison grievance would already have been settled instead of awaiting the step two meeting (settlement talks) that precedes a hearing before the impartial arbitrator.
The reason I say the case would have been settled and the grievance withdrawn is in a truly peaceful environment the clubs’ labor lawyers would have agreed with the union’s argument that the Florida Marlins acted improperly and punitively in optioning Morrison to the minor leagues last month.
The union has charged that the option was punitive, and I think it would be difficult to see it otherwise. Link Morrison’s demotion to the release of Wes Helms the same day, Aug. 13, and the union’s case becomes even stronger.
The union nevertheless has no guarantee that the arbitrator, Shyam Das, will find in its favor, but it is the Marlins we’re talking about here, and they have demonstrated under Jeffrey Loria’s ownership that they are capable of acting as badly as anyone and worse than most.
Early last year the union and the commissioner’s office joined in taking the Marlins to the woodshed and whacking their bare bottom for making improper use of money they received under the industry revenue-sharing program.
Rather than face the arbitrator with two members (union and clubs’ representatives) of the three-man panel poised to find them guilty, the Marlins conceded their wrong-doing and agreed to spend the funds appropriately.
As both sides intended, the Marlins’ message was heard by some other clubs whose use of revenue-sharing funds was questionable. No further meetings were necessary.
Loria, an international art dealer, who has owned the Marlins for nearly 10 years after previously owning the Montreal Expos, is among the least liked owners in the game, but despite my suspicion that it was he who ordered Morrison’s demotion, a baseball official said it was more likely the decision was made by David Samson, the club president, or Larry Beinfest, the president of baseball operations.
Indeed, it was Beinfest who was quoted as saying Morrison had to learn more about “being a major leaguer.”
What crime did Morrison commit to provoke such comments and action? He didn’t appear for a meet-and-greet event with Marlins’ season-ticket holders. That occurred before that day’s game in which the left fielder played and after an autograph session with fans in which he had participated.
He was told after the game he was being sent to the Marlins’ AAA minor league team in New Orleans. The Marlins released third baseman Helms at the same time. How did Helms get in the middle of this mess?
He was the Marlins’ union player representative, and when Morrison asked him, Helms told him he didn’t have to attend the meet-and-greet.
Player representative is a perilous job, though not as much so as it used to be. In years past, teams often released player reps for the most innocuous of reasons. But the advent of guaranteed contracts changed that unconscionable practice.
I asked a union lawyer if the union had thought about filing a grievance for Helms, but I realized that step would not be practical. The 35-year-old Helms was hitting .191 with no home runs, six runs batted in and 35 strikeouts in 69 games and 110 at-bats. It would have been easy for the Marlins to argue that they released him because he couldn’t hit any more.
Morrison, on the other hand, was not demoted for lack of hitting. He was second on the team in home runs and third in r.b.i.
The grievance is not based on material matters. Morrison was in the minors for fewer than 20 days so he won’t lose major league service time, and the amount he lost from his $414,000 major league salary was slightly less than $23,000.
Teams have done well with arbitrators over the years in defending their release of players and related issues. As far as anyone could remember, though, this is the first grievance alleging improper option.
The Marlins clearly did not want to talk about the case. No one I called took the call or returned it after I explained why I was calling: Loria, Samson, Beinfest, even P.J. Loyello, the head of communications. I simply wanted to ask why Morrison was optioned.
I also wanted to ask why they brought him back so quickly; he returned to the Marlins after a 10-day visit to New Orleans and was actually back with the Marlins a couple of days before the grievance was filed.
Given the loose-cannon-type of comments Morrison has made in his brief career, maybe the Marlin wanted to teach him a lesson.
A management lawyer said he found a legal precedent to support the Marlins’ demotion of Morrison, but he declined to cite it.
Meanwhile, the conflict sparked speculation in Chicago that the Marlins might want to trade the 24-year-old Morrison to the White Sox, whose manager Ozzie Guillen has supposedly been coveted by the Marlins.
The Marlins, though, should be careful about what they wish for. If they think Morrison is a loose cannon, they haven’t been paying attention to Guillen’s comments in recent years.