A League of Their Own

LIKE A BATTER WHO GLARES STEADILY AT THE UMpire after being called out on strikes, baseball commissioner Fay Vincent waited four days before submitting his resignation last week. The owners of major league teams had earlier "requested" that he leave. Milwaukee Brewers owner Bud Selig took on Vincent's duties. His executive council will select a new commissioner and devise a plan for bargaining with the players' union this winter -- a strategy that could lead to a 1993 spring-training lockout.

Vincent, who shepherded the sport in a troubled year of spiraling salaries and shrinking attendance, thought himself uniquely able to determine "the best interests of baseball" -- which meant using his bully pulpit to intimidate players, ignore the owners and realign teams against their wishes. He confused himself with his job. So last week did his media apologists. "The commissionership is dead," intoned the New York Times, which had not said similar last rites over the U.S. presidency when Nixon resigned.

Before becoming commissioner, Vincent worked as a movie executive. Selig used to be a car salesman. Somewhere between the fantasy of the first job and the reality of the second -- between a field of dreams and a parking lot full of lemons -- lies the future of baseball. It will take more than a coup to keep America's pastime from doddering past its time.