By Michael Levin
If you don’t follow baseball, you may be unaware of the
controversy simmering around Dodgers rookie Yasiel Puig. He came up from
the minors less than two months ago, has played on a level comparable only to
that of the early Joe DiMaggio, and has singlehandedly (okay, with both hands)
lifted the Dodgers from the ignominy of overpaid underperformer status into
credible pennant contenders. Fans came within inches of writing him onto
the All-Star team by online ballot.
Puig has played fewer than 40 games in the Major
Leagues. The Dodgers, who had a lot of money, now have a lot less, because
they agreed to pay him $42 million over seven years.
Old school baseball players and their managers take offense
to an All-Star designation for a player who has barely gotten his uniform
sweaty. But the people want Puig, and there’s still an outside chance that
they’ll have him, when the All-Star Game takes place Tuesday in New
York.
Baseball traditionalists believe that All-Star status is
something one earns over time. Casual fans couldn’t care less about a
player’s body of work; they’re just interested in stars, which Puig, at least
for the short term, now is. Sports talk radio commentators recognize that
baseball has a phenomenon in Puig and that the All-Star game is a marketing
showcase. Failing to include Puig, therefore, would be an unpardonable
offense.
Puig had the good fortune to come of age in the age of
American Idol, when you can become a star literally overnight. You don’t
have to spend years paying dues; you just go viral. Consider the
difference between yesterday’s Frank Sinatra and today’s Psy. Sinatra
toured with big bands for years before he hit; Psy, the Korean voice of
Gangnam Style (two billion YouTube hits and counting) became a
planetary legend with one video. If extraterrestrials exist, they are
probably on Alpha Centauri doing the horse dance and singing, “Hey, sexy
lady!”
And so it is in sports. LeBron got his $60 million
deal with Nike before he stepped on an NBA court. Andrew Luck
signed to quarterback the Indianapolis Colts for $22 million prior to throwing a
single NFL pass. And now Yasiel Puig has parlayed eight undeniably great
weeks into eight figures.
The veteran players may or may not begrudge Puig the money;
they definitely resent his potential All-Star status. That’s because they
come from a world where what you do over a long period of time defines who you
are. Puig, baseball’s flavor of the month, leaves a sour taste in their
mouths.
In baseball, hitters and pitchers “solve” one another.
Meaning that tendencies are analyzed and baseball experts do everything that can
to drag outliers back to the mean. In the sport’s language, the goal is to
create a “book” on a player: identify his weaknesses and capitalize on
them. The fastball hitter may have trouble with a slider; a particular
pitcher may struggle to keep the ball down. Once word gets out, it’s much
harder for a phenom to keep up that initial momentum.
This may or may not happen with Puig. He could be the
next Henry Aaron. Or not. He could also run into serious
trouble. If you listened to sports talk radio the week before the
Dodgers elevated Puig to the majors, the topic was the fact that he had enormous
trouble coping with authority. Not quite “cancer in the clubhouse”
material, but the verdict among baseball men was that he was too immature to
handle the pressures of the big leagues.
So now they’re putting him front and center at the All-Star
Game.
There’s something to be said for the old way of doing
things, where you had to earn your stripes, pay your dues, work your way to the
top. That way allows people to make their mistakes in private, before all
eyes are upon them. Those of us who are a little older and come from that
world are grateful that YouTube didn’t exist when we were in our twenties or
Facebook when we were in our teens. We’re very happy, thank you, that the
mistakes we made in our callow years aren’t on our permanent technological
record.
I have no problem with Puig playing in the All-Star Game;
he’s definitely a star and baseball is the world’s worst sport at marketing
itself. We’ve just seen what happens to people, especially those in the
public eye, who receive too much too soon. From Aaron Hernandez (New
England Patriot accused of homicide) to Lindsey Lohan (actress accused of
everything), it often turns out that sudden success is no gift from the
gods.
I wish Yasiel Puig the greatest of success, personally and
professionally, not that he’s ever heard of me or cares about receiving my
blessing. I want him to stay on the baseball diamond and not the police
blotter and enjoy his newfound celebrity.
It used to be that it took ten years to become an overnight
success. In today’s world, it can take ten years to get over having been
one.
New York Times best selling author and Shark
Tank survivor Michael Levin runs www.BusinessGhost.com, and is a nationally acknowledged thought leader on the
future of book publishing. He has written with Baseball Hall of Famer Dave
Winfield, football broadcasting legend Pat Summerall, FBI undercover agent
Joaquin Garcia, and E-Myth creator Michael Gerber.
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