Collusion Against A-Rod? More Like Common Sense!

So we're only a few days into the A-Rod wheeling and dealing, and already some people are starting to drop the C-word.

What is the C-word exactly?

Collusion, or as our friend the dictionary describes it:

"Secret or illegal cooperation or conspiracy in order to cheat or deceive others."

It's a word we don't hear very often—unless it's in the context of baseball owners trying to pay less for the poor unfortunate souls who have take to the field.

Collusion last came into play during the 1980s, when owners secretly agreed not to pay top-dollar, at a time when top-dollar was literally a small fraction of modern salaries.

So one can understand that it's a bit silly to hear the C-word thrown around now in reference to the highest paid athlete in the world.

Poor Alex Rodriguez...all those mean baseball team owners are out to get him.

Either that, or they're exhibiting a little something we like to call "COMMON FRICKIN SENSE."

Evidently, the baseball owners of America, most of whom are world-class business men who have built great fortunes by making one brilliant decision after another, don't think that spending $350 million on A-Rod is a worthy investment.

Because it isn't a worthy investment.

No individual athlete, especially one who's past the age of 30, is worth $350 million. Throw in the fact that A-Rod has never won a popularity contest amongst baseball lovers or driven his team to a World Series title, and one has to wonder if he's even worth $250 million.

But the lunacy of the C-word goes even further...

How many teams are able to afford $350 million, even if they DID think that A-Rod was worth the money?

There were only seven teams last year who spent over $100 million in team-wide payroll. For the rest of the league, signing A-Rod would represent an annual budget increase of 35 to 120 percent. 

You don't need a Masters in Business Administration to know that an instant 50 percent increase in business expenditure represents one heck of a departure from sanity.

At best, it's a major shift in strategy. At worst, it's pure lunacy. 

Can you imagine how your company's accountants would react if you popped your head into their office and said, "Oh, by the way, remember last year's budget? We're doubling it. Have a great afternoon." 

Perhaps Scott Boras should remember this before insinuating that perfectly competent businessmen are performing illegal acts of collusion and conspiracy. 

These teams are not scheming. They're making sense.