FEW STATES HAVE been hit harder by the Great Recession than Florida. In June, one of every 401 houses was in foreclosure. The unemployment rate has more than doubled since 2006. Two weeks ago, the Kids Count Data Book, released by the Annie E. Casey Foundation, ranked the state 44th in the economic well-being of its children, 38th in health outcomes and 35th in education.
Meanwhile, in the parallel universe that is sports, such sober realities disappeared as the Marlins asked the public for money to build a place for them to hit a ball with a stick -- which Florida natives never have been overly
Nevertheless, for the past decade the organization has pushed hard for a new stadium. It wanted a spiraling state and city to pay for the ballpark so badly that the club -- bluffing all the way -- threatened to move to such baseball-crazed havens as San Antonio, which has never had a major league team, and Portland, which dumped its Triple-A team in favor of Major League Soccer. The bluff worked, proving that it's easier to fool elected officials than those who elect them.
For their victory, the Marlins rewarded fans with a lesson in cynicism. There were many who knew that building the $634 million Marlins Park -- $507 million of it publicly financed -- was a bad idea but tried to temper their pessimism with thoughts of a romantic, local renaissance of baseball in Little Havana, with a new stadium, civic pride and walk-off wins. These people have been served a reminder to always trust their darker instincts.
The year has been a disaster. The team's new manager, Ozzie Guillen, offended Cuban-Americans by professing admiration (though he used the word "love") for the exile community's sworn enemy, Fidel Castro. The team has been under .500 for most of the season, mired closer to last place than first. Most offensive, the new stadium, with the fish tank and the rebranding as the Miami Marlins, didn't stop the team from doing business just like the old Florida Marlins, slapping fans in the face with a first-year sell-off that makes Connie Mack look benevolent. Gone is former batting champ Hanley Ramirez to the Dodgers, as well as Omar Infante, Anibal Sanchez and Edward Mujica. Meanwhile, ace Josh Johnson is around only because the team
It's all so eerily reminiscent of 1997 and 2003, when the team shamelessly sold off its championship parts. And it's the latest reminder that whether the owner is Wayne Huizenga or Jeffrey Loria, the city of Miami should never trust the home team. That's because the game being played is not on the field but in the boardroom, and it's one most cities never seem to know how to play.
If the obvious loser is Marlins fans, sold out again by their leaders, the winner is Bud Selig. When the history of modern baseball is written, Selig will deflect presiding over the Marlins' perpetual fire sale or the steroids era and boast about his powerful hand in the new MLB infrastructure, virtually all at public expense. Since 1991, 26 of 30 teams -- the Cubs, Red Sox, A's and Dodgers excepted -- have moved to new parks or overhauled them (Angels). Selig reportedly earns roughly $22 million annually, though some union officials estimate that his salary is as high as $30 million. Only a handful of players earn more than the commissioner. Selig commands that paycheck because of baseball's ability to shake down dumb politicians. Exhibit A is the shining mistake that can't even draw in its first year, owned by a team that showed no loyalty to its fans.
That's not even the scary part. This is: The stadium won't be paid off for another 40 years.
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