Barbarians with Limos at the Gate

When the owners appointed one of their own, Bud Selig, who stepped in as "interim" Commissioner, it defiled the Commissioners' Office and unhinged the checks and balances in the system.

Bud Selig can no more fulfill the mission of the Commissioner faithfully than could Donald Fehr, the Players Association boss.  Partisans in sheep's clothing are still partisans.

Commissioner Selig has tripped through the role clumsily.  He gets along well with the talking heads at the sports networks, but he authorizes a tie in an All-Star game;  The sport gains momentum from home run races and historic curses crushed, but he waits too long to tackle the steroids issue that calls much of the achievement of players for the last decade into question.

Selig loves to point to his minor league triumph over unorganized players making low wages who live in a world where you do what you're told. They have a tough anti-drug code. Think of it this way: Your kid gets arrested, so you beat your puppy to prove that you mean business.

Baseball under the owner-commish has gone to hell faster than in the tenures of the rest of the commissioners combined.

Salaries have escalated to ridiculous levels.  Major league pitchers with ERAs approaching their grandmother's ages are getting large six-figure arbitration deals.

Meanwhile athletes with talent are stuck in the minors in deference to often slower, fading, or poor-performing major leaguers with contracts so astronomical that there is no way to financially justify sending them down.