Really, Bud Selig?

Well, I feel so conflicted about posting something not even tangentially related to sports on what is still ostensibly a sports blog (even if it is woefully neglected), that I'm going to vent about some mildly current sports news.

I say mildly current because I think the story 'broke' at least two weeks ago, but the vote wasn't official (and unanimous) until two days ago now. Bud Selig received another contract extension, meaning we are stuck with him for the next three seasons. At least. When he will be 80.

Now, my seething hatred of Selig has mellowed somewhat over the years. In part, I'm sure it's because I'm older, wiser, and more mature. I am also less personally invested in sports because my work actually revolves around them now. That may not make sense, but there is a perverse logic to it. This still frustrates and baffles me, though, primarily because Selig was supposed to have retired by now. I don't mean that I think he should have retired by now (although I think he should have). I mean that six years ago he announced he was going to be retiring in three years. Four years before that, he said he was going to be retiring... in four years. I was very happy and, of course, very naive.

Now, most of what I've read about the contract extension praises (or at least notes) that by the end of Selig's new contract and the current CBA, the sport will have had 21 years of labor peace. Considering the fact that both the NFL and NBA had ugly lockouts in the past year and the NHL had its own hideous lockout in the last decade, that should probably be quite impressive, but you know what? I don't care. Unfortunately for Selig, the 1994 strike came at the worst possible time as far as I am personally concerned (which I know counts for absolutely nothing outside of this blog). I was old enough to be aware of what was going on (as opposed to the NFL strike in 1987), but still young and innocent enough to be scarred by it. That's right, Bud Selig. You ruined my childhood.

It was almost eight years before I really started to enjoy baseball again. I was leery of interleague play, and extremely grossed out by the 1998 juice fest. By the time Barry Bonds hit his 71st home run of the 2001 season, I was mildly relieved that the tainted record was no longer held by somebody from my home town (I'm not even sure what my reasoning was anymore). More importantly, I was old enough that I didn't feel as personally let down by the "moral" failings in the sport I still loved deep down. Or something like that.

Of course, even if I can admit that Bud Selig is not wholly responsible for the steroid era, he is still managing to do things that boggle my mind. For instance, why exactly is it that, if a National League team needs to move to the American League (and does one, really?), it's the Astros and not his Brewers (who he moved to the NL) that have to move? I know it makes a certain amount of sense with the current division alignment and works out pretty well for the Rangers. And it may actually not be such a bad thing for the Astros to be playing in what tends to be a much weaker division. Just don't try telling that to my husband. Of course, if the team ends up changing leagues and names, they might as well be the Tennessee Titans, as far as he's concerned.

I'll save my other complaints about the State of the Baseball Union for another time. Maybe in a year at the rate I've been blogging. It's finally getting to the point why I don't need to waste too much energy listing reasons Bud Selig should step away since the man is pushing 80. Perhaps by the time this current contract ends, he will have finally decided to get on with his life.