Baseball embodies the best and worst of what we love about professional sports. We are charmed by the history and the beauty of the game, and we are thrilled by the skill and competitiveness of the players. But those players, who earn obscenely high salaries, are unionized. And their relationship with management has always been fractious if not downright hostile. Players have gone on strike against the owners more than once over the years, and each time the fans have wished a pox on both their houses. It is hard to sympathize with millionaires who go on strike against billionaires, and it is hard to sympathize with billionaires ever.

And yet there is still another underside to the business of professional baseball, if that is possible. It is the relationship between minor league players and their employers—those same major league franchise owners.

Back in February three former minor league players, represented by an attorney who is himself a former minor league player, filed a class action suit against Major League Baseball in federal court in San Francisco.  They are not challenging the monopoly that the game is (due to its historic exemption from federal anti-trust laws), and they are not trying to unionize (Minor leaguers, with a handful of exceptions, are not part of the major league players’ union.). Instead they are suing Major League Baseball for multiple violations of the Fair Labor Standards Act. Since the original filing they have enlisted another 29 plaintiffs—former and current minor league players—and if they are successful, the outcome could result in back pay for an estimated 6,000 current and former minor leaguers, and various financial penalties against the owners.

Their charges are the same ones HR people see and read about all the time: They allege that their pay is far less than the federal and state(s) minimum wages for the hours they work, and they never receive overtime pay.   

The facts appear to be very much on their side. Starting pay for all first-year minor leaguers is $5,500 for a five-month season. Maximum pay is not strictly set but usually ends up in the neighborhood of $10,500. They receive $25/day meal money when on the road. For that compensation, allege the plaintiffs, players put in approximately 60-70 hours per week, or more, of mandatory work. The games themselves are played six days per week. For the typical evening game, which starts at 7:00 p.m., the players are typically required to show up in the clubhouse at 12:00 noon to dress, practice, and attend team meetings. The games last until about 10:00 p.m. and the players typically walk out of the clubhouse, free until the next game, at about 11:00 p.m.

Based on that scenario, the arithmetic says that the typical hourly wage of a minor league ballplayer falls somewhere between roughly $4.00/hour and $7.50/hour, far lower than that of the average, much maligned, fast-food worker. In addition, the suit alleges that players are required in the off-season to do all the work needed to maintain their physical conditioning and their baseball skills. They are not paid for that time. They are also required to attend six weeks of spring training, and they are not paid for that time either.

The players’ case seems compelling. But there are a number of hurdles they will have to clear in order to prevail, and the owners have several lines of defense to take, including the following:

• Minor league players voluntarily sign contracts. Therefore they knowingly and willingly accept their admittedly low salaries.
   
• Some if not much of the work the players do outside the actual games may be tied more to their professional development than to producing the organization’s product (i.e., the games themselves). Therefore they may not be required to be paid for that time.
   
• Players may not be non-exempt. They may be exempt under the “creative professional” exemption. (Although that exemption would presumably require them to be paid at least $455/week—only a few of them make that much now).
   
• Like major league players, minor leaguers can retain agents who can negotiate signing bonuses and salaries after their first year of employment. (However, very few of them retain agents. With the exception of the early-round draftees who receive six- and seven-figure signing bonuses, players’ signing bonuses typically average only about $2,500—much too low to make representation affordable for the player or worth it to the agent.)
   
• Although minor league players are not members of the major league players’ union (the Major League Baseball Players Association),  that union theoretically negotiates salary scales and benefits on behalf  of both current and “prospective” players—i.e., minor leaguers. 

It will be interesting from a purely legal-academic perspective to see how the suit will play out. It could be highly compelling from a baseball fan’s perspective to see how it will play out. One reason minor league baseball is as popular as it is—and it is very popular in most minor league towns—is that the players are not compensated highly. That keeps costs low, which is why fans see the minor league game as purer than the major league game and its players as more accessible than major leaguers. But if the suit results in significant economic changes for the players, and higher costs for the fans who will foot the bill for such changes, it may begin to lose just a bit of its charm.

The first hearings in the case are scheduled for September.

Sources: Sports Illustrated 2/12/14; The Washington Post 7/16/14; MLB.com; EmploymentLaw360 2/11/14; Senne et al. v. Office of the Commissioner of Baseball et al.