Hot Corner | An ugly road for the beautiful game

Soccer fans in Philadelphia are ready for the dawn of the Union franchise, but it may be another union they should keep their eyes on.

That would be Major League Soccer’s Players’ Union, which decided last week to strike if a new labor contract isn’t in place by the season opener on March 25. The current contract between players and owner was originally slated to expire on Jan. 31, but was extended on two different occasions to accommodate negotiations.

The negotiations though, have reportedly fallen apart. Several players have spoken out in the media, led by Kasey Keller, the goalkeeper of the Seattle Sounders whose decade plus in Europe and 102 caps for the U.S. National Team make him a household name in soccer circles even at the age of 40.

The disagreement hinges on players’ calls for greater rights. All player contracts are currently negotiated through the league rather than with teams directly, limiting players’ freedom, especially in free agency.

Wages are also an issue. The average salary for an Major League Soccer (MLS) player last season was $147,945, but that number is skewed by mega-deals to international stars like David Beckham. The median salary of $88,000 paints a more accurate portrait of where money is (and isn’t) going. It’s becoming an increasingly costly proposition to be a squad player who could be earning more at a conventional job instead of chasing a dream on a soccer pitch.

A strike couldn’t come at a worse time for a league with a still tenuous hold in the American sports marketplace. The MLS is in the midst of a major expansion project to increase the number of teams to 20 by 2012. They’re in year four of this six-year stretch in which teams have been incorporated to the league sequentially since 2007 (Toronto, San Jose, Seattle, Philadelphia, and Portland and Vancouver in 2011).

New markets in Seattle and Toronto are still riding the wave of popularity from their new franchise—must be that new soccer team smell—and the City of Brotherly Love is ready to mobilize its collective sporting insanity behind its new “Zolos.” Even struggling small markets like Salt Lake City and Columbus have been buoyed by better product on the field, though the payoff in the turnstiles has yet to be felt.

Not only is there the risk of warding off new fans, but alienating the current fan base is a major concern for a league comprised mostly of teams averaging fewer than 14,000 spectators per game. American soccer fans are a cultish, tight-knit group led by fan federations like New York Red Bulls’ Metrofanatics or Philly’s own Sons of Ben. You can bet that these season-ticket holders, the ones beating the drums in the bleachers and littering the field with streamers, will be the toughest and most pertinent group to reconcile to a strike.

Oh, and there’s that thing this June—World, something or the other. Sure, the quality of MLS isn’t going to be a substitute for watching the beautiful game in its grandest stage in South Africa. But, to use the economic term, it is a complement to attempt to satisfy the rabid, soccer-crazed masses during the hours when the morning’s matches aren’t available on tape-delay. Heck, even beach soccer in Brazil—which is a FIFA-sanctioned event with its own standing and world championships that doesn’t involve bikinis or beach balls (that prominently)—must get a ratings boost every four years.

The consequences of a strike would be monstrous. Forget the fact that American soccer would miss out on the opportunity to feed content to the hungry ESPN machine trying to drum up even more interest in the World Cup, whose television rights it owns in the states. The United States Soccer Federation also risks traveling to South Africa with the stigma of having a dysfunctional domestic league the likes of which is usually reserved for war-torn African nations. And the inability to control a relatively small domestic league doesn’t bode well for a potential bid at the United States hosting the 2018 or 2022 Finals.

On the field, a looming strike creates desperation for players, which may work to the advantage of those pushing for labor resolution. Representing your country in a World Cup Final is a once in a lifetime opportunity that can’t be translated into a dollar amount. The chances of doing so are greatly diminished for players not getting regular time for their club teams. Players like Jonathan Bornstein and Sasha Kljestan are at an automatic disadvantage to those getting into matches regularly in Europe or Mexico and have a larger stake in the finalization of a compromise. Team USA also has a vested interest in getting players on the field, since a sizeable proportion of the team headed to South Africa will probably be comprised of domestic-based players.

The unique facet of this situation that differentiates it from other potential and actual strikes from the Big 4 leagues in the past is simple: MLS is not irreplaceable. It hasn’t cornered the market on talent, interest, or investment for its sport worldwide, and presents a small portion of the soccer television market in the United States. It’s a niche league that serves to shuttle mid-level young talent in the Americas toward European clubs while luring big-name European and American stars whose on-field value is outpaced by the stir their names cause in the twilight of their playing days.

That shapes the discussion in a number of ways. It gives players options with other leagues to play in, though MLS may be the most realistic and financially-feasible choice. That notion, along with the fear of top-flight talent, already at a premium, being lured away may push owners closer to the negotiation table.

The next three months are a prime opportunity to be building the league’s profile, not rebuilding it. The sooner players and owners alike realize it, the sooner a palatable resolution for everyone involved will be reached.