WhistlePigs and $2 beers: Minor league clubs ‘kicked out of baseball’ face uncertain future, liberation in exile
What becomes of a minor-league team when it gets evicted from the minor leagues? More than 40 teams recently found out.
theathletic.com
On the highway home to Iowa, as he pondered the possibility of his professional extinction, Ted Tornow pulled out his phone. He had six hours to stew as he drove his truck out of Fort Wayne, Ind., after a meeting of class A Midwest League affiliates in the fall of 2019. He choked down a sandwich and vented. He called the head of the ownership group of his team, the Clinton LumberKings. He called a friend who ran a minor-league basketball franchise. He called his wife.
“We just got kicked out of baseball,” Tornow told them.
Tornow, the LumberKings general manager, had known an axe might fall. For months, he heard rumblings about Major League Baseball’s plans to shrink the sprawling minor-league system. There was a list circulating with more than 40 teams set to lose big-league affiliations. Near the end of the meeting in a suite at the Fort Wayne TinCaps ballpark, Minor League Baseball president Pat O’Connor broke the news: Clinton was on the list.
The franchise had resided in Clinton for more than 80 years. Labor funded by Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s Works Progress Administration built the ballpark in 1937. Sixteen different big-league affiliates, from the Brooklyn Dodgers to the Miami Marlins, cycled through the city, located in the eastern-most edge of the state, about two and a half hours west of Chicago. Tornow, 61, joined in 1999. “We are so soaked in history, we reek,” he said.
As he cycled through his contacts, he kept hearing the same question.
“Well,” Tornow was asked, “what are you going to do?”
On Dec. 9, 2020, Major League Baseball finalized its overhaul of the minor leagues by offering 10-year partnerships to 120 affiliates, four for each big-league team. As a consequence, 43 franchises lost their affiliation. The reasons for the cuts varied. Some pairings — like Miami and Clinton — made little geographic sense. Some franchises lacked facilities which satisfied big-league benefactors. Some leagues expired at the hand of a general thirst for consolidation.
Even in leagues that weren’t eliminated, some franchises found themselves standing alone at a dance with no music. “All of a sudden, we were looking around and going, ‘Hey, who’s our (major-league) partner?’” said Curtis Haug, general manager of the Kane County Cougars, a former A-ball Diamondbacks affiliate in the Midwest League.
Seven franchises ceased operations. The downsizing swept up lower-level leagues in the Appalachians and the Rockies. The New York-Penn League, founded in 1939, ceased to exist. So did the concept of Minor League Baseball as an independent entity — when the Professional Baseball Agreement between the majors and the minors expired in September 2020, Major League Baseball effectively subsumed the governing body of its underlings. MLB’s New York office replaced the MiLB office in St. Petersburg, Fla., as the headquarters of the minors.
The majority of the contracted teams remained in business, dispersed between new leagues for college prospects and established independent groups now granted MLB’s seal as “partner leagues.” Their fates answered a question that sounds more like a brain twister: What becomes of a minor-league team when it gets evicted from the minor leagues?
A portrait of a changing industry emerged in conversations with more than a dozen owners and officials of franchises contracted in late 2020. More than a year after the restructuring, bitterness lingers over a perceived lack of transparency from MLB commissioner Rob Manfred’s office about the shake-up. Several operators expressed fear that criticizing MLB might damage future relationships with the league. They referenced the power disparity between MLB teams and their affiliates; the 10-year partnerships offered by the big-league club precluded minor-league clubs from suing MLB.
In December, lawyers representing the Staten Island Yankees and three other franchises filed a lawsuit alleging the sport violated the Sherman Antitrust Act and challenging baseball’s anti-trust exemption by defining the contraction as non-competitive behavior. “Virtually no other business in the United States would have even considered such a brazen horizontal agreement among competing businesses,” the lawsuit argues. The U.S. District Court in the Southern District of New York has not yet ruled on the filing.
The frustration was not limited to those engaged in litigation.
“I don’t think that when Major League Baseball blew up minor-league baseball that they had a full understanding of how minor-league baseball operated, and a full plan going forward as to how to operate it,” said Jeff Katofsky, owner of the Northern Colorado Owlz, a former rookie-ball Angels affiliate, who said the reorganization cost his franchise millions in value. “Financially, it beat the hell out of us,” he said.
Several officials described a scramble to find new leagues in 2021, undertake a new business model without MLB franchises subsidizing costs, and build rosters without MLB supplying the talent. “We had to fly the plane as we were building it,” said Matt Van Hise, general manager of the Boise Hawks, a former rookie-level Rockies affiliate. Several pronounced themselves stunned at the costs once handled by parent clubs. “It’s around $50,000 a year for bats and balls,” Haug said. “It’s crazy.”
Yet many felt liberated in exile. They praised the MLB officials dispatched by Manfred to expedite the transition. They forged deeper connections with players. They appreciated greater freedom in marketing. Some suggested the quality of play was better than affiliated ball; others reported improved merchandise sales. Many expressed optimism about their future economic prospects. After a canceled season in 2020, the minor-league operators sounded overjoyed that fans welcomed them back and embraced the new normal.
“I’ve been in this business for over 30 years, and last year was one of my favorite years I’ve ever had,” said Matt Ellis, president of the Missoula PaddleHeads, a former Diamondbacks affiliate in the Pioneer League.
Morgan Sword, MLB’s executive vice president for baseball operations, described the contraction as a crucial step toward “a lot of long-overdue improvements to the way the system operates.” He cited “more logical” geographic pairings of big-league teams and affiliates, upgraded facilities, improved accommodations for umpires and the 2021 increase in minor-league salaries (which occurred three years after the commissioner’s office enlisted minor-league franchises to lobby Congress for the “Save America’s Pasttime Act,” which prevented MLB teams from having to pay minor-leaguers the federal minimum wage or overtime).
“It’s been quite an effort to start a whole new system,” Sword said. “I’m becoming convinced that this is the right thing for the game of baseball, and it’s going to result in a lot more stability and longevity in these cities.”
Added Sword, “We’ll be grateful, 10 years from now, that we took those steps.”
What will the minors look like then? Several owners think the reduction to 120 affiliates was only the start. “There is very popular thinking that sooner or later it’s going to be 90 [teams] — if not less,” said Andy Shea, owner of two former members of the defunct South Atlantic League. Added Katofsky, “It wouldn’t shock me, in five years, if it’s 60.”
What happens when a minor-league team gets kicked out of the minors? More teams may find out.
Soon after he returned from Fort Wayne, Tornow received a call from Bill Lee, the commissioner of the Frontier League, an independent confederation of franchises scattered from Quebec to the eastern suburbs of St. Louis. Lee asked the same question everyone was asking: What are you going to do?
“We’re going to fight it,” Tornow said. “But at the end of the day, we’re probably going to get kicked out.”
After the Midwest League meeting, Tornow explained, he felt like Norman Beale in “Network,” mad as hell and not going to take this anymore. So did others in Clinton. Emails flooded the inbox of mayor Scott Maddasion. ”They’re like, ‘You gotta fight hard!’ and I’m like, ‘I will!'” Maddadsion said. Like Tornow, Maddasion felt as if the city had “just got kicked in the shorts by Major League Baseball.” They beseeched Iowa’s elected officials for help. In time, Tornow heard back from his representatives: He could fight. He would lose.
“From a legal standpoint — and I’ve talked to enough lawyers — they said, ‘Yeah, you guys are screwed,’” Tornow said.
When the pandemic descended in 2020, Tornow used loans from the Paycheck Protection Program to stage events at NelsonCorp Field. He pored over the particulars of joining a new league. He considered four options: The indies of the Frontier League and American Association, or the collegiate Northwoods League and Prospect League. Tornow ruled out the indies; the franchise could not afford to pay professional players. Soon he heard from Sword, who was dispatched by Manfred to aid teams like the LumberKings.
A three-way discussion ensued between the LumberKings, the Prospect League and MLB. The Prospect League was “tickled to death” to welcome Clinton, along with the former Angels affiliate in Burlingon, Iowa, to the league, commissioner Dennis Bastien said. The league charged a $250,000 fee for new entrants; MLB paid the tab, representatives from the team, the Prospect League and MLB all said. MLB paid similar fees for other clubs, Sword said.