It is highly improbable that an obscure researcher will outdo Big Science or that a low budget candidate will win her way into the White House. But in the realm of sports, many are rejoicing as big-spending baseball teams struggle out of the gate. After today's interleague play(May 20th), the most efficient teams---the ones who are spending the least on salaries per win are mostly young and without a World Series title in at least two decades:
( ironically the first letters of the names of their cities form the words, "to bat")
In recent years, of course, the big spenders have been contenders, and their perennial winning ways on the field may not have necessarily translated into the highest profit margins, but they have escalated their net worth into lofty zones. According to Fortune magazine the most valuable teams are the:
What's less known is that the profit margins of baseball teams are quite modest, on average 6.5% in 2011, with the highest income to revenue ratios belonging to the Royals, Indians, Rays and Diamondbacks. From the perspective of an investor emphasizing fundamentals, I would much rather own a Canadian bank, but it seems that from a business standpoint, a baseball team is equivalent to an Impressionist painting. For a big name franchise, there are enough big spenders willing to pay even more than the previous overbidder.
But the average baseball fan has long grown weary of analysts' frequent reminders that their favorite pastime is a business. They want to perceive the sport the way Ken Burns does, for its history and metaphors. They know that playing the game is all about that feeling you get when your body turns into rubber as you dive for a line drive along the 3rd base line. It's about beating out a ground ball as if your life depended on it and hearing a thumping heart and the cheers of peer approval.
I was saddened by the departure of the Montreal Expos to Washington, but it was just as painful to watch the ball parks of my youth get converted into soccer fields. Baseball was as important to my childhood as mixing battery powder and peroxide in an empty Nutella jar. And when the owners of my ex-favorite American League team bought Liverpool F.C a year prior to the infamous September 2011 collapse, they reminded everyone that most owners today are not fans primarily but merchants.
I'm feeling nostalgic for those days when for $1 apiece, we watched 18 baseball games in a season filled with the antics of Bill Lee, the scared-of-lightning Warren Cromartie and the blossoming of Gary Carter. I especially miss the days when we played most of our baseball games without the help of our parents or city organizers.
In a similar way, it's somewhat unfortunate that so much education and science today depends on vast sums of money. Teaching and researching without a massive organizational umbrella is so much more fun, more akin to finally succeeding in putting enough topspin on the sweet leathery smell of a baseball.
| Tampa Bay Rays | $2 566 940 |
| Oakland Athletics | 2 636 786 |
| Baltimore Orioles | 3 015 889 |
| Atlanta Braves | 3 204 229 |
| Toronto Blue Jays | 3 282 139 |
and the least efficient are:
| New York Yankees | $9 426 775 |
| Boston Red Sox | 8 659 330 |
| Philadelphia Phillies | 8 311 378 |
In recent years, of course, the big spenders have been contenders, and their perennial winning ways on the field may not have necessarily translated into the highest profit margins, but they have escalated their net worth into lofty zones. According to Fortune magazine the most valuable teams are the:
| New York Yankees | $1 850 000 000 | |
| Los Angeles Dodgers | $1 400 000 000 | |
| Boston Red Sox | $1 000 000 000 | |
| Chicago Cubs | $879 000 000 | |
| Philadelphia Phillies | $723 000 000 |
What's less known is that the profit margins of baseball teams are quite modest, on average 6.5% in 2011, with the highest income to revenue ratios belonging to the Royals, Indians, Rays and Diamondbacks. From the perspective of an investor emphasizing fundamentals, I would much rather own a Canadian bank, but it seems that from a business standpoint, a baseball team is equivalent to an Impressionist painting. For a big name franchise, there are enough big spenders willing to pay even more than the previous overbidder.
But the average baseball fan has long grown weary of analysts' frequent reminders that their favorite pastime is a business. They want to perceive the sport the way Ken Burns does, for its history and metaphors. They know that playing the game is all about that feeling you get when your body turns into rubber as you dive for a line drive along the 3rd base line. It's about beating out a ground ball as if your life depended on it and hearing a thumping heart and the cheers of peer approval.
I was saddened by the departure of the Montreal Expos to Washington, but it was just as painful to watch the ball parks of my youth get converted into soccer fields. Baseball was as important to my childhood as mixing battery powder and peroxide in an empty Nutella jar. And when the owners of my ex-favorite American League team bought Liverpool F.C a year prior to the infamous September 2011 collapse, they reminded everyone that most owners today are not fans primarily but merchants.
I'm feeling nostalgic for those days when for $1 apiece, we watched 18 baseball games in a season filled with the antics of Bill Lee, the scared-of-lightning Warren Cromartie and the blossoming of Gary Carter. I especially miss the days when we played most of our baseball games without the help of our parents or city organizers.
In a similar way, it's somewhat unfortunate that so much education and science today depends on vast sums of money. Teaching and researching without a massive organizational umbrella is so much more fun, more akin to finally succeeding in putting enough topspin on the sweet leathery smell of a baseball.
