On Thursday, Major League Baseball made details of its recent offer to the MLB Players Association public, coming right before the existing collective bargaining agreement (CBA) expires this upcoming winter. Ownership has taken this public approach on several occasions throughout the year, with this instance being the most recent. The submission outlines adjustments to the postseason framework—notably expanding the Division Series from a five-game to a seven-game format—right as the current playoff action unfolds in front of fans. Furthermore, league officials suggested reducing the standard schedule from 162 down to 154 contests.
From my perspective, I plan to break down the advantages and drawbacks of this newest play by the team owners and executive leadership. Consider this an advance notice: if subjective viewpoints or alleged “partisanship” upset you, feel free to stop right here. This piece is not objective reporting; it is a commentary loaded with personal commentary.
Major League Baseball suggests 154-game campaign and expanded postseason structure with an unexpected element during ongoing collective bargaining negotiations
Mike Axisa
Advantage (qualified): Trimming to 154 matchups
Part of me—the side that cherishes tradition and participates in Cooperstown voting—naturally leans toward preserving the 162-game campaign. That total has governed baseball for decades, establishing standard milestones that everyone recognizes. Reverting to a smaller figure feels somewhat jarring at first glance. However, anyone familiar with the sport’s history remembers that the American League operated on a 154-game format between 1920 and 1961, while the National League followed suit from 1920 through 1962. Substantial precedent exists, and baseball traditionalists have successfully adapted statistical evaluations before. Making the shift back is entirely manageable.
Moreover, 162 matchups are undoubtedly more than necessary. In fact, we can drop the word “more.” Baseball requires extensive sample sizes to function properly, so I would object strongly to any attempt to drastically reduce the calendar to around 80 or 100 contests. But holding at 154 games? That remains more than sufficient. Plus, an added benefit is that several extra franchises will remain in playoff races later in the year, which serves the sport well.
Advantage: Expanding the Division Series
To reiterate, professional baseball is an endurance test where tiny sample sizes frequently produce random results. The single-elimination Wild Card game was never an ideal mechanism for identifying which club merited a Division Series berth, though one could at least argue: “if that bothers you, go capture your division title.” Now that each league features three wild-card entries, the Wild Card Series invites all sorts of unusual outcomes, and three games feel entirely inadequate. Honestly, even a seven-game stretch is arguably too brief to conclusively establish which roster is superior.
Even so, lengthening the Division Series from five games to seven represents a positive step. Extending series length increases the chances that the stronger club triumphs, even if outcomes remain unpredictable (and complete predictability would eliminate the excitement anyway).
Additionally, a crucial aspect here is that a seven-game set prevents management from navigating round after round with a bare-bones rotation. There has been growing advocacy lately for restoring starting pitchers to prominent, traditional roles. While a team might manipulate early rounds using a single top starter complemented by imaginative bullpen usage, a full seven-game clash across the Division Series, Championship Series, and World Series almost certainly demands at least two legitimate starters, and realistically a minimum of three.
Drawback: The proposal hinges on a single condition
Crucially, team executive offers only take effect if players accept a payroll ceiling. As stated by the MLBPA:
Regrettably, league officials reinforced that every single recommendation relies entirely on union acceptance of a salary cap—a framework that severely restricts athlete freedoms and earnings—alongside additional unfavorable demands.
Carefully examining the statement distributed by Major League Baseball on Thursday afternoon reveals this catch tucked into the details. Why did public headlines focus almost exclusively on the attractive novelties?
Keep in mind that athletes are currently tied up in the postseason—an enterprise generating massive financial windfalls for team owners. Executives are well aware that serious bargaining cannot occur until the final out of the World Series, allowing the MLBPA to convene collectively to address labor issues without several rosters being focused on championship survival.
Furthermore, ownership recognizes that a hard spending cap remains completely unacceptable to the union under current conditions. By leaving this proposal in play, management can highlight appealing concepts designed to win over baseball fans and general observers. Consequently, it creates the illusion that ownership is compromising while portraying the players as stubborn or demanding.
Drawback: Negotiating through public channels
Furthermore, team management continues airing these details openly. The motivation? Framing the union as unreasonable obstructionists who refuse to enter constructive dialogue.
“Look at us! We keep introducing exciting concepts that supporters love, while the players repeatedly reject everything!”
It bears repeating that athletes rely on career earnings far more directly than owners, given that athletic careers face an inescapable expiration date driven by age and physical decline. Certain players fail to finish a single year. Even the most fortunate spend two decades in the league before retiring at an age that would be considered exceptionally young in virtually any standard industry (such as Justin Verlander playing until 43).
The athletes represent the actual product, and elite athletic talent cannot simply be substituted. Owners, conversely, are entirely replaceable. Fans purchase tickets to watch world-class players perform on the diamond, not to gaze up at corporate suites. Franchise investors possess immense capital and face zero danger of insolvency. At this juncture, skeptics often argue that team executives assume all the financial “exposure.”
If that argument sounds convincing, consider why team sales remain so infrequent. Arte Moreno completed the sale of the Angels at a $4 billion valuation after acquiring the franchise for $180 million back in 2003. No matter how one frames those figures, the financial gain is staggering.
Meanwhile, lower-revenue owners frequently claim financial hardship as justification for mandating a payroll maximum, asserting an inability to fund competitive rosters. A straightforward resolution exists: disclose team accounting records. Union leadership has consistently maintained that if smaller-market organizations are genuinely unprofitable and incapable of financing payrolls without increased revenue distribution from high-earning franchises (a concept I fully endorse) alongside payroll caps, they should simply present their financial records. If Cleveland truly cannot support payrolls beyond $75 million while Los Angeles easily surpasses $400 million, then adjustments would make sense. Yet public verification remains impossible. Ownership groups have persuaded many observers of these losses, but the true financial reality remains hidden because accounting ledgers stay locked away.
The sole exception is the Atlanta Braves, whose publicly traded structure demands financial transparency—and their earnings reports reflect remarkable strength.
Executives pleading poverty refuse to demonstrate precisely how much assistance they require from wealthy clubs or the exact degree to which high-spending payrolls must be capped.
Nevertheless, they persist in driving these deceptive public relations campaigns.
Advantage: A fixed weekly rest day
Setting criticisms aside for a moment, the proposal contains additional appealing elements. Guaranteeing a uniform weekly rest day would provide tremendous benefits to athletes. Designating Monday makes complete sense. Schedules could feature midweek series spanning Tuesday through Thursday—with Thursday afternoon games accommodating travel—followed by weekend series running Friday through Sunday. Dedicated supporters who struggle with a single baseball-free summer evening per week (and frankly, I doubt anyone is incapable of reading, spending time with loved ones, or watching a movie once a week) can adjust to the opening in their schedule.
Establishing a predictable six-game weekly routine with a dedicated day off is advantageous. Could this encourage six-pitcher rotations where starters pitch once per week? Rotations might maintain velocity and stamina deep into September, and perhaps starters could consistently pitch further into contests—a clearly superior outcome.
Position players who play daily would similarly maintain energy levels late in the year.
While not primary intent, that universal rest day could also serve to reschedule weather delays. Currently, rainouts cause chaotic searches for shared open dates down the stretch. Under this arrangement, every team would share every Monday off.
Advantage: Allowing top seeds to choose postseason match-ups
League leaders also recommended allowing top-seeded teams in both the Wild Card and Division Series to choose their playoff opponents. In practical terms, this might not alter match-ups drastically. For instance, the primary quirk in the American League this season saw Houston claim a division title with an 81-81 mark while the top three records belonged to AL East teams. Houston took the third seed and likely would have selected the sixth-seeded White Sox. Perhaps in round two, Tampa Bay might have opted for Chicago over New York, though Tampa Bay swept New York regardless.
In the National League, the Wild Card round likely would have unfolded identically. Perhaps Milwaukee would have picked Atlanta rather than a surging San Diego squad in the NLDS, yet Milwaukee ultimately dispatched San Diego in four games anyway.
Where this concept truly shines is in unlocking immense rivalry drama among locker rooms and fan communities alike.
Entertainment value jumps dramatically when an underhanded opponent gets to declare, “You selected us, now deal with us!” Debates preceding the postseason would intensify over which matchups top seeds ought to select. Heightened narrative debate drives engagement, creating compelling entertainment. Fans already speculate over preferential match-ups, but this policy grants teams real authority to act on those preferences.
That adds genuine excitement.
We should focus more on entertaining elements rather than endless financial disputes.
