(Bloomberg Opinion) — Bryce Harper, star first baseman for the Philadelphia Phillies, got in the face of Major League Baseball Commissioner Rob Manfred during a team meeting recently. Manfred, according to ESPN, was discussing baseball’s challenging economics. Harper, who is in the midst of a $330 million contract, used an expletive to tell the commissioner to leave if he intended to talk about a salary cap. Manfred fired back, and then cooler heads eventually prevailed, allowing the meeting to continue — without a salary cap discussion.
The now-infamous confrontation is just the latest skirmish in an intensifying battle between MLB owners and players over how to fairly distribute baseball’s riches and maintain competitive balance. The league and its owners believe a salary cap is a tool that can accomplish both goals. The players’ union, which has long opposed a cap, argues that the concept will only serve to protect the economic interests of owners.
It’s certainly in Harper’s interest to advance the union’s argument. But most MLB players don’t — and likely never will — earn the kind of money Bryce Harper does. As labor strife intensifies, and a potential lockout looms with the current collective bargaining agreement set to expire in 2026, it’s these everyday players — not the nine-figure superstars — who need to be the face of this fight.
Baseball has always had haves and have-nots. But over the last half-decade, spending on free agents by a handful of major market teams has far outpaced what most other teams (small market or otherwise) can afford. At the start of the 2025 season, for example, the Los Angeles Dodgers’ $398.2 million payroll was more than four times bigger than the combined payrolls of the bottom four teams (the Marlins, White Sox, Rays, and Athletics).
Those well-heeled teams aren’t stocking up on players earning $760,000 per year, MLB’s minimum salary in 2025. They’re inflating their payrolls with big contracts for a small number of free-agent superstars. On Opening Day this year, there were 953 players on MLB rosters, only 15 of whom earned at least $30 million per year.
Of course, the other players aren’t exactly hurting. More than half of all of the league’s players earn at least $1 million per year.
That might seem like a lucrative deal for everyone involved. However, between 2002 and 2024, MLB players have actually seen their share of league revenues decline, from 63% in 2002 to just 47% in 2024, according to Manfred.
And while blockbuster contracts keep growing — Juan Soto’s new 15-year deal with the Mets is worth $765 million — most players face a different reality. At the start of the 2025 season, the median MLB salary was $1.35 million, down from $1.5 million in 2024. In 2015, it was $1.65 million, which remains — a decade later — a record high.
Several factors account for the slippage. The most important one is a sort of indentured servitude. MLB rules mandate that a player has six years of service on a big league roster before gaining free-agency rights. This requirement, which typically follows several years at the minor league level, allows a team to control and underpay athletes, often through their prime playing years.
Consider Paul Skenes, the ace pitcher for the Pittsburgh Pirates who won the National League Rookie of the Year award. He’s currently paid $875,000 and won’t be eligible for free agency and a market-rate payday until 2030.
As it happens, Skenes is lucky compared to his peers. He’s already a superstar and, barring injury, will eventually be paid like one. Most MLB players will never get to free agency at all, much less get the chance to earn their actual worth. Last year, the head team physician for the Texas Rangers claimed that the average career of a major-leaguer lasts three years. Back in 2007, demographic data showed that it was 5.6 years.
It’s easy to overlook those players; they fill out rosters, have a few good years (hopefully) and ultimately serve as filler in baseball card packs. But if the MLB Players Association is serious about building a fairer economic system, it must prioritize their needs.
From a policy standpoint, that means the MLBPA must be willing to negotiate its long-standing opposition to a salary cap. Holding onto principles is admirable, but if the median salary is declining, those principles haven’t accomplished much.
A better course of action would be to act in the interests of most MLB players, negotiate shorter rookie contracts, a salary floor and a guaranteed share of league revenue in exchange for a salary cap. The concept isn’t far-fetched: the National Football League, National Basketball Association, and National Hockey League all have negotiated some version of the concept. Fans like the parity, and players like owning a piece of the league’s revenues.
Well-paid veteran players certainly have a role in negotiations to obtain these concessions. But they shouldn’t be the face of the fight. Not only are they poor representatives for players unlikely to reach age 30 in an MLB uniform. They are uniquely unsympathetic characters to a sporting public wary of money grabs. Bryce Harper, demanding uncapped compensation (while going nose-to-nose with the commissioner), isn’t going to persuade anyone.
Rookies and role players with a message of fairness just might. Baseball needs their voices more than the vets.
More From Bloomberg Opinion:
This column reflects the personal views of the author and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
Adam Minter is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering the business of sports. He is the author, most recently, of “Secondhand: Travels in the New Global Garage Sale.’
More stories like this are available on bloomberg.com/opinion
Bryce Harper, salary cap, Major League Baseball, collective bargaining agreement, MLB Players Association
#Bryce #Harper #Figures #Front #MLBs #Pay #Fight