"Saving Face"
It is getting down to the wire in the negotiations with Scott Boras – representing rising son, Daisuke Matsuzaka – and the Boston Red Sox. It’s a poker game with the Devil, and it looks like the Devil is winning. Well, if you believe The Boston Herald, that is. However, if you were to, say, tune into ESPN, you’d hear that the Red Sox were pushing Boras’ hand, issuing a statement in which they say they are prepared to make a “record offer” to the unproven (at least at MLB level) hurler. Whether or not that amount comes close to the reported $15 million per year Boras is seeking for his client remains to be seen, but, ultimately, this is all one big drama in which neither side seems to be deviating from a well-rehearsed script. Boras is playing the hard ass while the Red Sox are playing the victim; roles we’ve seen both parties play ad nauseum.
As recently as two days ago, “anonymous” reports surfaced in which the talks were declared dead unless Boras budges from his lofty salary demands. Then, in a genius PR move, Theo Epstein issued the aforementioned “record offer” statement to the press, albeit with the caveat that this record offer would be one made to a non-MLB player, not something in line with, say, the contracts of Manny Ramirez or Alex Rodriguez. Many speculate that this could mean something along the lines of 5 years/$55 million dollars, which would amount to a $106 million dollar investment overall when you factor in the $51 million dollar posting bid. That’s a lot of scratch for a guy who has yet to throw a ball in an official MLB game, but, apparently, not nearly enough for Boras, who has let it be known that he plans to challenge the entire posting system of the Japanese league if a deal isn’t reached by this Thursday’s midnight deadline. Major League Baseball has already issued a terse statement of its own in response to Boras’ posturing, saying that no ploy by the agent to somehow “buy” his client out of his Seibu Lions commitment will be recognized by the MLB, and that, if a deal with the Red Sox is not reached, Dice-K would be forced to return to his former team, the Sox would get their $51 million dollars back, and not a whole helluva lot of people will be happy about it.
So who wins if Dice-K goes back to Japan? Certainly not the Seibu Lions, who already have the posting fee earmarked for stadium and roster upgrades. While the Sox could do a lot with $51 million dollars, the market for quality starters is all but dried up. The team would not only lose the potential revenue stream that a high-profile Japanese player would inevitably bring to the franchise, but could also lose face with Japanese baseball as a whole, thus costing them potential deals in the future. As for Boras’ client, well, a return to Japan after such a ballyhooed “exit” would be shameful in a society in which honor is the cornerstone of its values system. If Dice-K were to turn away from a “record offer” and unceremoniously return to the relative anonymity of the Japanese leagues for another season, the effects could be disastrous; not only on his psyche, but to his reputation, as well. Oh, and there’s nothing that says the Red Sox couldn’t post just as high a bid on the player in fall of 2007, thus forcing the player to accept what they’re offering or face the prospect of never pitching in the major leagues at all.
The only winner (as is often the case) is Scott Boras. While not the conventional sort of win the super-agent is used to, players will look upon Boras’ steadfast refusal to give in as a sign of strength, while his promised challenge of the posting system as a whole could win him much favor in the burgeoning Far East market. If Boras decides to use these negotiations as a platform for his wage war on the posting system, his allies and influence could very well lead to the deconstruction of a process that most people view as unjust and corrupt. It would be a huge victory, not only for Boras, but for the international future of the sport.
Sadly, as in all great battles, there will be casualties- one of whom could see his major league career end before he even throws his first pitch.