“One dollar and 87 cents.” Those are the opening lines to O. Henry’s “The Gift of the Magi,” the Christmas classic about a couple struggling and each wanting to buy a gift for the other. That was in 1906, when a dollar bought something.
Most people know the story: Jim sells his watch to a jeweler so he can buy Della a set of beautiful brushes. Meanwhile, she’s undergoing the same struggle and agrees to sell her hair to buy Jim a gold watch fob. Christmas Day, they realize that neither can use the gift: His watch is gone, as is her hair, but they console one another with the assurance her hair will grow back.
One dollar and 87 cents. That must have been a lot in those days.
Each month as I examine our bank statement, I feel reassured that we will probably not end up in the poor house, as was the fear for Jim and Della. And of course, I realize that the money the couple had in the “Gift,” by today’s standards, would scarcely buy a cup of coffee.
Remember when it was common for a local street mendicant to stop you as you entered a restaurant, and ask, “Can you spare a dime for a cup of coffee”?
Well of course, runaway inflation has since made money matters ludicrous. Consider the irony of the fact U.S. mints still manufacture pennies. And how much does it cost the Official U.S. Taxpayer (you and me) to produce a penny? You’re right! 1.4 cents.
The first wave of nausea hit when I read Tuesday’s sports page about Giancarlo Stanton, a Miami Marlins player who this week inked a contract worth $325 million. That’s 325 followed by six zeroes. But to be fair, he doesn’t get all that money in one fell swoop; rather, it’s spread out over 13 years and it comes out to about $25 million a year, or, if you divide the money he gets for one season, he receives $154,032.10 per game.
There’s probably a mixture of admiration and envy among other players in the big leagues. Sure, most other players would love to match the pocket change Stanton earns, but regardless, the mammoth contract bodes well for others.
You see, other competent baseball players in the league can use that as a bargaining chip, arguing, “Well, I hit a lot of homers last year and I think I’m deserving of a raise too.” Watch for the snowball effect.
But yet, what does a skilled baseball player do with such piles of money? How many of us will ever come anywhere close to matching Stanton’s earnings? If a person were to earn as much in one year as Stanton hauls in for three innings, that would be a decent income.
I enjoyed reading a letter in Monday’s Journal, written by Albuquerque resident Sue Jimenez, who deplores the granting of such obscene contracts.
Let’s follow some of her math:
Jimenez computes that the Miami Marlins will play 162 games during the April-through-September season. If the average length of each game is slightly less than three hours, that comes out to about $876 per minute.
The letter writer said that if Stanton were “really philanthropic, he might fork over 45 minutes worth of play ($40,000) to fund the cost of meals” for an Albuquerque homeless shelter. Or he could put in 68 minutes’ work to provide $60,000 for senior meals for all the needy in Albuquerque.
Of course, the new multi-million-dollar player is in good company. Slugger Alex Rodriguez is due to receive more than a quarter-billion in salary over 10 years; Miguel Cabrera is close behind at $248 million for 10 years. In fact, we need to go all the way down to Evan Longoria, at the relatively impoverished 56th spot, to earn at least $100 million for a multi-year contract.
Jimenez offers to help out Stanton as he finds ways to handle all that money. Imagine how far all those millions would go toward finding cures for disease, for giving teachers raises, for feeding, housing the needy or for building hospitals.
For several years, the richest franchise in professional baseball has been the New York Yankees, with a worth of $2.5 billion (that’s 2.5 followed by nine zeroes. Now watch hundreds of pro baseball players salivate as they, too, try to negotiate hefty contracts.
A high tide raises all ships.
And so it’s ironic that only three major league clubs had fewer fans than the Marlins showing up during the entire 2013 season.
Have I already used the word “obscene” to describe some current baseball contracts?
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A column this month gave the names of about two dozen different catalogues that arrived at my house one day. The listing was by no means intended to provide the compete complement of catalogues; that was just the total for that day. If space allowed, I would identify the different mailings that have arrived since then.
On that subject, reader Klare Schmidt wrote to say that when her husband, the late Helmut Schmidt, hauled in pounds of catalogues from the mailbox, he’d say, “There goes another tree.” Could he have meant “forest”?
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There still exists about a 30-cent difference between gasoline prices in Santa Fe and Las Vegas, our motorists having the honor of paying the higher price per gallon. In freezing temperatures, as I was gassing up Tuesday and watching the dollars add up, I wondered: Why is it that the receipt for the gas never comes out of the printer until after the customer has been hit by three Arctic blasts, each one colder than the one before?