In suing MLB, minor leaguers want minimum wage for maximum effort

In his three years playing college baseball at Missouri State, Matt Lawson had free access to the school cafeteria, lived in a dorm or apartment with no more than two roommates and had his family an hour's drive away.

Turning pro after getting drafted in the 14th round in 2007 meant getting used to a steady diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sleeping in the basement of a host family or sharing an apartment with five teammates, and riding buses up to 10 hours to arrive at dawn for an evening game.

Even after getting married in 2008, Lawson and his new bride, Mallory, stayed with a host family during his Class A season so they could stretch their money.

"Professional baseball is way more difficult living conditions than college,'' says Lawson, who is back at his alma mater completing his degree and hopes to become a coach. "Putting 60 hours a week was not uncommon at all. I just felt like for six months that's all I did.''

Lawson, an infielder who got as far as Class AAA in the final of his seven seasons, is one of 34 plaintiffs in a lawsuit filed in February 2014 by former minor leaguers who allege they were not paid minimum wage during their time in pro ball, in violation of federal and state laws.

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The lawsuit, now in its discovery phase, is scheduled to go to trial in February 2017. It lists Major League Baseball, all 30 teams and former Commissioner Bud Selig as defendants. If the lawsuit gains class-action status, its outcome could have a significant impact on the thousands of minor-league players who began the season earlier this month with the ultimate goal – in most cases just a distant dream – of reaching the majors.

According to the complaint, most minor leaguers earn between $3,000 and $7,500 for the entire year. It also alleges that, while the salaries of major leaguers have skyrocketed by more than 2,000% since 1976, the average wage earned by minor leaguers has increased only 75%, far below the inflation rate of 400% in that spell.

The reason is simple, says Garrett Broshuis, one of the lead attorneys for the plaintiffs and a onetime minor-league pitcher himself. With no union to represent and advocate for the minor leaguers, owners have all the leverage and no incentive to raise salaries.

"On one hand you have a group of workers who are desperate to enter the industry, and oftentimes they are kids who just graduated from high school or 16- and 17-year-old Latinos who barely speak English. And they have no union at all,'' Broshuis says.

"On the other side, you have these powerful MLB owners who are sophisticated business people and they have an antitrust exemption, so they can actively get together and collude to set prices. So it makes for this perfect recipe for exploitation.''

MLB has filed an answer to the lawsuit but not a motion to dismiss. Its only public comment on the matter came via a statement in which baseball – a $9 billion industry – said its compensation to minor leaguers complies with the law.

"The minimum wage and overtime provisions of federal and state wage and hour laws were not intended to apply to professional athletes such as Minor League baseball players,'' MLB's statement says. "For example, it is both impractical and nonsensical to require baseball players to maintain time sheets, and to submit requests for overtime when they desire to take extra-batting practice or their game goes into extra innings.''

Furthermore, MLB points out that many amateur players receive signing bonuses for substantial amounts -- $224 million in total last year just in the U.S., the statement says – and 66% of the players drafted and signed receive either partial or full subsidies for their college education.

How those forms of compensation are factored into the whole equation will be part of the debate over a suit that MLB "is going to fight tooth and nail,'' says employment attorney Paul Millus of the New York firm Meyer, Suozzi, English and Klein, who advises employers and employees on workplace matters.

An even bigger point of contention, Millus says, will be whether baseball players are exempt from minimum-wage laws because they're considered seasonal amusement and recreational employees. The Second Circuit Court of Appeals recently recognized sporting events as being covered by that exemption.

"The simple answer is this: If you're not exempt, you're entitled to overtime and minimum wage, without a doubt,'' Millus says. "The question is whether or not the exemptions that have been applied in this situation, particularly the one for recreational, would apply to baseball players in the minor leagues. That will be a very interesting question, and it's a very complex one.''

Millus and fellow New York lawyer Anthony Sabino also note that the plaintiffs may face a major hurdle in getting their lawsuit certified as a class action, largely because current players figure to be reluctant to sue their bosses. Absent class-action status, Millus says, the lawsuit would not be worth the attorneys' time and effort.

A decision on the certification may not come for several months. In the meantime, Broshuis believes that, short of unionizing, the lawsuit represents the minor leaguers' best chance at improving their working conditions. They do make a strong case for the extensive hours they put in not only during the five-month season, but also in spring training – when players aren't paid a salary and receive only a per diem – and in offseason conditioning work.

Broshuis said that while a full-time minimum-wage worker makes $15,000 a year, the average minor-league player earns $7,500.

"We're not talking about huge sums of money here,'' he says. "It's not like these minor-league guys are suddenly going to be getting rich because of this. But it would be an improvement.''

'It's the life we choose'

Interviews conducted during spring training with more than a dozen current minor-leaguers, ranging in experience from first-year pros to one who had briefly reached the majors, bore out a common theme best captured by the words of Randolph Oduber, a Class AA outfielder in the Washington Nationals' farm system: "It's the life we choose.''

Whether wary of saying something that might upset their employers, or genuinely happy for the chance to pursue their aspirations, the players generally expressed an appreciation for being among the select few who get to play baseball for a living.

Yes, that living could be considerably more comfortable, and higher wages would go a long way in that direction.

MLB does not provide average salaries for minor-leaguers, and accurate numbers are hard to track down, but the lawsuit states guidelines call for minimum salaries of $1,100 a month for rookie-league and short-season players, $1,250 for those at Class A, $1,500 for Class AA and $2,150 for Class AAA.

"We're definitely not making minimum wage, for sure,'' said Nick Moore, 22, a Class A infielder and outfielder in the Boston Red Sox system. "You do the math. Probably $2 an hour, maybe. Sometimes you have to fill 12 hours a day, easy. Sometimes you get to the ballpark at noon, the game's at 7 and you leave by 11:30 or 12.''

The players also mentioned the difficulties of maintaining a healthy diet on a shoestring budget – meal money starts at $25 a day – while playing in small towns with few eating options after night games.

And for those who don't stay with a host family in the low minors, the cost of rent often prompts players to cram as many as they can into an apartment.

"Like sardines, man,'' said Mitch Lively, a 29-year-old pitcher who has climbed as high as Class AAA with the Nationals and San Francisco Giants organizations in the last three years.

But most of those who spoke to USA TODAY Sports largely viewed those hardships as a means to an end, even when they realized the vast majority of minor-leaguers will never reach the majors.

"You have a choice whether you want to play this game or not,'' said John Gast, a pitcher with the St. Louis Cardinals' Class AAA team in Memphis, "and if you can't handle the situations and take your chance to get to the big leagues … it's just something everybody has to go through.''

Many current major leaguers see the grind of the minors as a rite of passage, and even an incentive to work on their game to earn a promotion to "The Show,'' where life is exponentially better.

But they also point to areas of improvement that go beyond the salaries. Colorado Rockies shortstop Troy Tulowitzki, for one, says the food available to minor-leaguers at clubhouses should be more nutritious because it provides the fuel for their performance.

Arizona Diamondbacks reliever Brad Ziegler, while advocating the value of players paying their dues in the minors, said better conditions might encourage more young athletes to opt for baseball.

Those should start with at least minimum-wage salaries, said New York Mets outfielder Curtis Granderson, recalling a friend in the minors who clears just $100 a month after taxes and living expenses.

"Regardless of the opportunity that's presented to you to become a major league player, make a career of this and set your family up for life, there's still a job being performed at any level,'' Granderson said. "And as long as we're playing in the United States, there are still minimum wages. I'm not saying we need to make an enormous salary until you get to the level to do that, but minimum wage should be just a basic thing.''

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