The Sporting Times
May 1, 1916
Manhattan, NY
Manhattan–Twelve years ago, few believed the Legacy Baseball League would ever need a second Commissioner. Alexander Madigan, the league’s larger-than-life founder, loomed immortal—until a rainy August night in 1904 proved otherwise. The loss of baseball’s godfather left a power vacuum, soon filled by an unexpected candidate: Jacob Parker, a relatively unknown journalist from St. Louis.
Parker was nobody’s first choice. A 48-year-old Missourian with no playing experience, Parker spent his youth working in his father’s bookstore, discovering baseball through newspaper clippings rather than sandlot games. His rise to Commissioner came through a split vote, reflecting the fractured state of the league he inherited.
At the time, baseball was faltering. Attendance was declining, scandals marred the game’s reputation, and labor disputes loomed large. The league’s lawyers had recently defended both its exclusion of non-white players and a match-fixing scandal before the Supreme Court. Though the league survived, its image—and finances—were bruised.
The Parker Era
Parker began with decisive action, permanently exiling Brooklyn Whales owner William Barclay and GM Landon Kerr for corruption. Yet, if his tenure has a defining feature, it’s his adherence to the “middle way.” While he recognized the Player’s Union, he outflanked their call for Free Agency. He purged gambling from the game but allowed Brooklyn manager Marquis Williams to stay. He increased funding for the Negro Leagues and secured a minimum salary for players, yet offset any discussion of integration as ownership continued to rake in record profits under his leadership.
Parker also transformed the league’s infrastructure, investing heavily in the expansion of affiliate baseball, monopolizing player development, and crushing the possibility of rival leagues. His reforms made baseball more stable and profitable than ever, but his refusal to embrace bold, sweeping change left many wondering if Parker’s cautious approach betrayed his progressive roots.
A Game of Inequality
Baseball today is an economic powerhouse. The Boston Banshees generated $161,821 in revenue last year, operating on a mere $26,056 in expenses—a staggering 84% profit margin. Across the league, ownership enjoys unrivaled financial returns and access to the nation’s elite.
Meanwhile, players see only a fraction of this prosperity. Robert Batkin, the highest-paid player in the game, will earn $2,375 this year—just 2% of the New York Bakers’ projected revenue. With the Reserve Clause locking players into their teams, athletes have no power to negotiate or seek fairer opportunities. Their salaries are capped, their options limited, and their labor tightly controlled. The Player’s Union is as weak as it’s been since 1895–with the aging president Tommy Hershey rarely making statements, and certainly not signaling any deviation from the status quo. He is, in effect, a Parker man. Through the middle way, Parker has achieved a level of conquest and control that Madigan could only dream of.
The Fruit of the Middle Way
Jacob Parker campaigned on a vision of reform: recognizing the Player’s Union, purging corruption, and strengthening the Negro Leagues. While he has achieved much, his most audacious promise—nationalizing the league—remains unfulfilled. Ownership continues to grow wealthier, while players, the lifeblood of the game, remain trapped in a system that exploits their talent.
As baseball rakes in record profits and becomes more entrenched in America’s cultural and economic fabric, we must ask: is this what progress looks like? Parker has kept the game alive, but has he truly delivered on his promise to liberate it?
Twelve years on, the question remains: does baseball need another Madigan—or does it need Parker to become the visionary he once claimed to be?