Scott Boras: Working Class Hero

Scott Boras’ presence has loomed over Major League Baseball for a few decades now. If, like me, you grew up following baseball in the 1990s, then you probably resented him. A player who hired him as an agent (well, technically a lawyer, but you know what I mean) was almost certainly going to leave his team in free agency, going to whatever team was willing to pay him the absolute most money. He negotiated then-record deals for Greg Maddux, Kevin Brown, and most famously, Alex Rodriguez. As salaries around the sport ballooned, Boras always seemed to be there, happy to turn all players into mercenaries for his cut.

But, recently, Boras has turned into something of an advocate for the sport. Throughout the pandemic negotiations, he offered advice to the players and the league for how to play as many games as safely as possible. Even before that, he has given big picture advice to the league on how to improve the sport as a whole. The temptation has always been to dismiss his input because it is so transparently self-interested: He likes the universal DH, because it means more roster spots for aging sluggers; he doesn’t like the three-batter minimum, which mean fewer roles for some of the specialty relief pitchers he represents. But it doesn’t make any sense to dismiss Boras just because he represents players—if anything, it should give him at least as much of a voice as Rob Manfred, who clearly represents the owners.

We don’t think of agents as speaking for players as a whole because they don’t represent ALL players. This is fair, but Boras typically understands that advocating for his clients typically means pursuing what’s in the long-term interests of players as a group. It’s no accident that half of the eight member Executive Subcommittee of the MLB Players Association are Boras clients. Like Marvin Miller before him, Boras has always been a tough and unrelenting advocate for the players. And like Miller, he’s never seemed to mind that this makes him a villain to many people in the game.

Of course, some people will find the comparison to Marvin Miller, a lifelong union man who stood up for players when they really were exploited, to be offensive. Before Miller took over the MLBPA, there was no free agency—players weren’t even compensated for their name and likeness on baseball cards. By the time Boras rose to prominence, players were millionaires who seemed to get away with anything. And it’s true that making sure the Yankees overpaid Jacoby Ellsbury does not have the same romance of challenging the reserve clause.

But Boras was a necessary figure at a crucial time for baseball. In the 1990s, baseball was not only awash in new TV money—it was also emerging from a period of collusion, where player salaries were kept artificially low. Agents like Boras ensured that players actually shared in the boomtimes. But it’s worth understanding how much the pie was actually growing: In 1986, the highest paid player in baseball made roughly $2.6 million, or about $6.1 million in 2020 dollars. That’s about 1/6th of what the highest paid player makes today. By contrast, the New York Mets were sold in 1986 for $81 million (~$192 million in 2020 dollars), or less than 1/12th what Steve Cohen just paid for the same franchise. In other words, the owners’ wealth has grown a lot more than the players even with the explosions in player salaries.

And now the balance of power seems to be tipping even more in favor of owners. Free agents are waiting longer to sign, and, at least at the top end, wage growth has stalled (Mike Trout makes less, in inflation adjusted dollars, than Alex Rodriguez made in 2001). More disconcertingly, the owners just effectively laid off the entire minor leagues, and cut the season by 2/3rds because the players wouldn’t accept pay cuts. Reports were that the negotiations got so contentious that a work stoppage seems imminent when the current collective bargaining agreement expires next year.

In this environment, Boras’ advocacy seems less cutthroat and more necessary. In addition to the union, which doesn’t represent minor leaguers or international players, Boras is a critical voice that the sport needs at a new turning point. The interests of players don’t always align with those of fans—anyone who watched his favorite player leave his favorite team for a bigger contract can tell you that. But if you care about the future of the sport, you need to not only hear them out, but make sure they have a mouthpiece at least as big as the owners. You need someone who is willing to put their interests ahead of the owners’ desire to make money. And that is literally Scott Boras’ job…