Hey, it's Zack.
Get ready. You are about to hear the phrase competitive balance approximately one million times between now and December 1.
MLB will say it. The MLBPA will say it. Every analyst, every insider, every hot take account on social media will say it. And almost nobody will actually explain what it means.
So let's fix that right now.
Because competitive balance is not some abstract negotiating buzzword. It is the entire reason fans in Pittsburgh, Kansas City, Cincinnati and Tampa Bay show up to the ballpark every April still allowing themselves to hope. And right now both sides are using that hope as a bargaining chip.
THE ENTRANCE
Here is the blunt version of competitive balance. Does every team actually have a shot?
Not an equal shot. Nobody is asking for that. A legitimate shot. The kind that makes a fanbase believe their team could realistically be playing in October if a few things break right.
Eleven years ago the Kansas City Royals won the World Series. Eleven years. Since then every single champion has come from one of the fifteen biggest markets in baseball. Since 2015 only a handful of small or mid market franchises have reached the League Championship Series.
Now look at the payroll gap. Last season the top half of MLB payroll teams averaged 87 wins. The bottom half averaged 75. Eight of the ten playoff spots went to top half payroll teams. The Mets' top two players alone make more money than the entire Tampa Bay Rays roster combined.
And yet. The Rays keep winning. The Brewers keep winning. The Guardians keep winning.
This is where it gets messy.
THE DELIVERY
Here is the part that drives me crazy about this entire conversation. Both sides are hiding behind the phrase competitive balance to argue for things that have almost nothing to do with competitive balance.
When MLB owners say competitive balance what they actually mean is they want to spend less. Their proposed system sets a cap around $245 million and a floor around $171 million. Twelve teams would need to raise payroll by a combined $617 million. Eight teams — Dodgers, Mets, Yankees, Blue Jays, Phillies, Red Sox, Padres, Braves — would need to cut payroll by a combined $578 million.
Sounds reasonable on the surface, right? Spread the money around. Except look at the Mets and Dodgers. Nearly identical spending over five years. Around $1.75 billion each. The Dodgers have won 67 more games than the Mets in that stretch. The Angels have spent over a billion dollars in five years and are 100 games under .500.
Money does not create wins. Decision making creates wins. A cap does not fix bad decision making. It just makes everyone spend the same amount of money making the same bad decisions.
Now flip to the MLBPA side. When the union says competitive balance what they actually mean is stop letting owners pocket revenue sharing checks and call it a business strategy. Their Competitive Integrity Tax proposal targets teams that take the money designed to help them compete and then refuse to spend it. That is a real problem. The Marlins, Pirates and Athletics have made an art form out of collecting revenue sharing and not putting any back into star talent on their rosters.
Here is what I learned sitting on the MLBPA subcommittee. Competitive balance is the Trojan horse both sides use to smuggle in arguments that are really about money. Owners use it to justify spending less. The union uses it to justify forcing certain owners to spend more. Neither argument is really about the fan in Kansas City wondering if their team has a shot.
But here is the uncomfortable truth for both sides. They are both a little bit right.
There is also a third issue that almost never comes up in these conversations, and it should. The current Competitive Balance Tax, baseball's version of a luxury tax, is calculated using the average annual value of a contract. But when a team defers a huge chunk of a contract's money for decades, that number gets discounted down to what it is worth in today's dollars. Shohei Ohtani's deal with the Dodgers pays him $70 million a year, but $68 million of that is deferred with no interest until 2034 through 2043. For tax purposes, that contract counts as roughly $46 million a year, not $70 million. The Dodgers have done this across roughly $1 billion in deferrals to multiple players.
That is not illegal. It is allowed under the current CBA. But it means a team can promise a player $700 million while their books reflect closer to $460 million. That gap is real spending power that the tax threshold was never designed to ignore.
THE SAVE
The Rays have made the playoffs ten times since 2008 with one of the lowest payrolls in baseball every single year. The Brewers have made it six times since 2018 as the smallest market in baseball. The Guardians win every year despite a financial gap with their division rivals that should not even be close.
These teams prove the smart organizations win regardless of payroll. Which means the rest of the league's excuses do not always hold up.
But it also proves something else. For every Rays there are five teams that take the same financial reality and produce nothing. Same revenue sharing. Same market disadvantages. Completely different results.
So here is my honest take. Competitive balance is not about forcing every team to spend the same amount of money. It is about exposing the difference between a team that genuinely cannot compete and a team that simply chooses not to try.
If I had a seat at that table again here are the two things I would push for. First, tie revenue sharing directly to spending. If a team takes revenue sharing money that season, it has to show up in that year's player payroll, dollar for dollar, or the team loses its share the following year. No exceptions. No accounting tricks.
Second, count deferred money at full face value for tax purposes, not discounted present value. If a team commits $700 million to a player, the tax should reflect $700 million, not $460 million because the payments are stretched out for twenty years. That is not transparency. That is a loophole that lets the richest teams add star power while technically staying under a number that no longer reflects what they actually committed to pay.
Neither of these fixes the Dodgers and Mets problem. Nothing fixes two teams spending $1.7 billion and getting different results because one front office is better than the other. That is just baseball. But it does fix the Marlins and Pirates problem. The teams that take the help and never put it on the field. And it closes the gap between what a team appears to spend and what they actually promised.
A salary cap will not fix a franchise that does not want to win. Neither will more revenue sharing if the rules let that money disappear. The only thing that fixes a franchise that does not want to win is a fanbase that stops showing up. And that is the one lever nobody at the negotiating table wants to talk about.
Until then competitive balance will keep getting thrown around like it means something. And fans in Pittsburgh, Kansas City, Cincinnati and Tampa Bay will keep showing up every April. Hoping this is the year.
This is the first of several issues I will be writing as we get closer to December 1. The salary cap fight. The minimum salary increase. Revenue sharing. The international draft. Every one of these issues affects players, teams and fans in ways that rarely get explained clearly. I will keep breaking them down one at a time.
Talk soon, Z
The Save is a personal newsletter based on my own experiences, opinions, and recollections. The opinions expressed here are mine alone and do not represent any team, organization, union or employer past or present. When discussing players, contracts or organizational decisions I am sharing my perspective as a former player — not making legal or financial claims. When I share stories involving others I am telling them from my point of view. When I share tips or lessons I am sharing what worked for me. Always do your own research and consult professionals when making important decisions.