Technically speaking, baseball is a business like any other. Practically speaking, it’s a surreal slice of life far removed from the everyday experiences of the vast majority of humanity.
Because of the way we’ve agreed to organize our society, an industry can spring up where men are paid millions and millions of dollars to hit round objects with long objects. The existence of professional baseball as a billion-dollar industry is really just an expression of capitalism, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the weirdest ones.
Seeing as baseball is so dissimilar to manufacturing textiles or extracting oil, we rarely see it as a business of bosses and employees like the ones we exist in. Instead we see catchers, and fourth outfielders and LOOGYs.
Hardcore fans are certainly interested in team financials, CBA changes and international market regulations, but it’s not often the primary focus. It’s far more compelling to tune in to see if Buster Posey can poke a Clayton Kershaw curveball the other way for a game-winning single.
Adam LaRoche’s recent retirement was a stark reminder that even in baseball there is still “management” and “the little guy” to an extent, even if the little guy makes a lot more money than management. Even so, although it is a “workplace” more than we realize at times, it’s rarely a relatable one because it’s so far removed from most of our experiences.
However, New York Yankees left-hander Evan Rutckyj had an experience recently that is a little bit more in line the life of the average person.
After spending five years in the Yankees system, the Canadian southpaw was selected by the Atlanta Braves in the Rule V Draft. Admittedly, few of us have had that experience, but it becomes more of an everyman adventure from there.
Rutckyj had put in a decent amount of time with the Yankees and he’d been promoted fairly slowly. At 24, an age where players are hoping to be reaching the major leagues, he hadn’t yet seen Triple-A. That was likely frustrating, but with the Braves it looked like he’d get the shot. Understandably, he was enthusiastic.
So, in an interview with the Atlanta Journal-Constitution he said this:
“I feel like we can talk to anybody here. It’s kind of different from the Yankees, where if one of the coordinators or somebody walks by you, like, put your head down and mind your own business. But here everybody wants you to talk to them.”
As criticism of the Yankees goes, that’s not especially biting, but it’s not nothing either. Rutckyj got a new opportunity and expressed how great it was to be with the Braves. He just so happened to throw the his old team under the bus a bit.
Unfortunately for the left-hander, this story does not end with that statement being rendered irrelevant by his success with the Braves. Instead, he was returned to the Yankees because there wasn’t room for him in Atlanta.
Now, his criticism of his former team was fairly mild. He will surely be welcomed back into the Yankees system without incident. It shouldn’t be too awkward, but someone will likely remember Rutckyj’s words.
What makes this story intriguing is how much it resembles something that would happen to any regular guy or gal, if you can put the Rule V rules aside for a second. Here are the steps:
- Guy gets new job and is excited
- He talks about how great the new opportunity it is and how much better it is than his old gig
- He fails to make impression/fit in at new place in short order
- He returns to old employer with his tail between his legs
That’s a very human story, especially for a guy who aggressively launches leather/rubber orbs for a living. There’s a good chance something like this has happened to you or someone you know. In smaller industries, like sports media for instance, it happens all the time.
As Evan Rutckyj continues his professional baseball career there will be a lot for him to learn. After all, he only has 17 2/3 innings at the Double-A level under his belt. He will invest countless hours into refining mechanics, tinkering with pitch grips and perfecting his command. However, it seems one of the most important lessons he’ll learn will be something that someone with no baseball know-how whatsoever could have told him.
If you work in an industry with only 30 possible employers, you can’t afford to be critical of any of them.
Lead photo: Laura Nawrocik / Flickr