There’s 1 way MLB Lockout can quickly get even worse

Oh, you … you thought the 2022 New York Yankees season was dead when the players unanimously rejected the owners’ “last and best” offer after an evening packed with falsified optimism?

Because this will get dark, it will last for weeks and months, and there will be little-to-no progress, even though the league’s PR hounds want you to believe MLB did the very best they could to install a set of Opening Day parameters that worked for everyone.

You already fell for it once … didn’t you? You made memes about how Bob Nightengale saved baseball, as he tweeted through owner propaganda point after owner propaganda point. You listened to what you wanted to hear, ignoring that not only did the two sides avoid getting closer on the CBT threshold, but the owners managed to insultingly keep it at a stagnant $220 million for the next three years in a row.

Three years in a row! Not even a crumb.

So, what’s our best-case scenario? April games get canceled across the board before ownership has a change of heart and graciously allows MLB players to resume their jobs in May and takes Joey Gallo off of LinkedIn.

Worst-case scenario? A firefight that heads to court, and could kill the sport altogether.

Yankees fans might watch MLB lockout head to court after last, best offer

“Last, best offer”. Sound familiar? In other words, we’re already halfway there after Tuesday’s futile and stupid gesture.

In theory, a difference of $30 million between both sides’ CBT requirements shouldn’t be nearly enough to kill a season, especially after something as dire as a global pandemic really threatened to tackle the sport in a way that was beyond any authority’s control.

In reality, neither side has been the correct amount of flexible in the totality of the process, which could’ve been avoided if ownership hadn’t waited 43 wasted days before engaging the players they willfully locked out.

Certainly sounds like the start of a case accusing the owners of bad-faith negotiation, doesn’t it?

We live in a different time than we did in 1994. Allegiances are now split between 50 different whirring screens and entertainment mediums at any given time. Countless other forms of joy are now available at each fingertip.

And, most importantly, we know what’s behind the curtain of every MLB franchise that wants to pretend to be unable to make ends meet unless you make 30 different concessions in their direction in any negotiation.

It’s difficult to see this ending in a firefight, but it’s canonically easy to see this ending in a series of whimpers, followed by abject silence.