NFL bucks can't be real

I'm beginning to think the folks in professional sports are really using play money.

Seeing the price of your favorite baseball or football star, it can't be real money. No way.

Think of it. Last I looked, the President of the United States makes a salary of $400,000, not counting perks, pretty nice housing, office space, and a gigantic expense account. But that $400K is about what the third-string shortstop for the Seattle Mariners makes, and I don't see Barack Obama doing shoe commercials either.

It just can't be real money.

This came to my attention (again) a few days ago when I read that the National Football League fined Randy Moss $20,000. The fine was later rescinded, but it makes you wonder what he did. Step on a defensive back's face, perhaps? Assault a referee? Moon the fans?

Nope. Moss, an insanely gifted wide receiver for the New England Patriots, criticized the referees in a recent game. That's all. And it wasn't even strong criticism.

I'm not going to take the obvious free-speech angle or our society's aversion to the thought of offending anybody (although no one seems to be squawking about those issues; must be the money doing that), but the indident is worth exploration even for the non-NFL fan.

Moss said the refs made some "iffy" calls, which is certainly mild. No questions about their eyesight, ancestry, or whether their family trees forked. Mone of the usual juicy stuff. Just "iffy."

OK, he said it to a few sports reporters. But he was venting, and pretty mildly at that. The League recognized that fact. Now, if Moss said the referees were of the same caliber as those found in the National Basketball Association, that would be a different matter -- apparently likening the two leagues is considered fighting words according to the NFL.

Even if the fine stood, $20,000 is a drop in the bucket for Moss. An NFL player of his caliber can make upward of $1,000,000 per game. For Moss, 20K is pocket change.

No, this isn't even a diatribe about sports salaries, even though the wage rates are scandalous -- especially at times like today, where non-athletic people merely hope their job doesn't disappear next month and their next egg doesn't disappear next year.

Of course pro athletes are overpaid, but it's one of the things about a free market. Your favorite ballplayer makes $20 million a year because somebody decided he's actually worth that much and is willing to pay that much. Clear? If someone else decides he's worth $25 million next year, your ballplayer is perfectly within his rights to go for it.

In 1970, when I first started paying attention to such things, Willie Mays made the highest salary in baseball -- at about $135,000 per year, and many midlevel ballplayers sold insurance during the off-season. OK, $135K was big money back then, and older baseball fans are reminded that in the early 1930s Babe Ruth made more money than the President (which made sense to The Babe; he did have the better year).

Really, it's no different from the real world, even though the numbers are different. Way different. But if you're making $15 an hour and someone else offers you $18, of course you're going to at least consider it.

Not much difference except that Monopoly money is the coin of the realm in pro sports.

(Side note: Air Obama shoe commercials? Man, I'd better get my medication changed around, and fast!)