First note - thank you to everyone that dropped a comment or an email. The Doctor is doing well, resting comfortably. I like to think your thoughts and energy helped.
Justin Ishbia -- brother of Phoenix Suns owner Mat Ishbia -- is the next owner of the Chicago White Sox. Ignoring the insanely complex deal for now, we've known for a while that Reinsdorf would sell the Sox at his passing, allowing his family to keep the more profitable Chicago Bulls. (Though there's rumors that a guy who's very connected to that franchise might just take minority interest in the near future, if NBC allows it.) The Sox aren't good, but Jerry Reinsdorf isn't the problem, really. He's won, he's spent (in the past), and he kept the Sox in Chicago, if you can overlook a little brinksmanship. There's the potential for a new stadium in the near future and new ownership might just help that.
If you think this is the end of a generational turnover, you're wrong. I spoke with someone very, very close to almost every owner and he lamented that in the next three years, baseball is going to see a run of changes the likes of which we've never seen. It's not tied to the CBA or the '28 TV deals - and NBC will get the short term one, mark my words - but to tax law, the age of current ownership, and to the general state of baseball and wealth in America.
Remember, the richest men in America have never owned sports teams. Steve Ballmer and Paul Allen were outliers. The model is Jerry Jones, the Arkansas oilman who's biggest strike was buying the Cowboys and getting famous. (By the way, he should win an Emmy for Landman. Buy me a drink and I'll tell you why.) Would you know who Bud Selig or Jerry Reinsdorf or Carl Pohlad or George Steinbrenner were if they hadn't owned baseball teams? If I tell you that there's a trucking company owner, a billboard baron, and a tomato king who own teams, could you identify them all?
My source knows that we could have as many as ten of the 30 franchises turn over inside the next five years, quicker if the worst-case tax laws on franchise depreciation are pushed through. Who'll buy in? Ishbia is a mortgage king. We've seen hedge fund guys and nepo babies try to buy in, some successful, some not.
The truth is we’ve treated MLB ownership like it’s permanent, like those owners were players in the overall drama rather than, you know, just owners. A Steinbrenner always owns the Yankees. The Ricketts will pass Wrigley on to the next Ricketts, even if nobody’s quite sure which one is currently in charge, as we forget the half-century of Wrigley ownership. Mark Walter and Guggenheim look immovable in L.A. but permanence is an illusion and baseball’s gilded age of legacy ownership is about to fall victim to the same forces reshaping American wealth, taxation, and influence. Walter could fall in love with his new F1 team, or his sports AI fund, or who knows what.
First, the tax change. You’re not going to read about it on MLB.com or in your local notes column, but every single owner and their lawyers are watching the proposed revisions to how sports franchises can be depreciated on paper. Since 2004, owners have enjoyed a generous - and let’s be honest, absurd - ability to write off most of the value of a team over 15 years. It’s how a team with $100 million in revenue and a $120 million payroll can still post a loss. It’s accountant alchemy.
The proposed changes would lengthen that depreciation schedule significantly, cutting into the accounting tricks that make these franchises look like bad businesses (even when they’re great ones). If that passes, especially if it’s retroactive, some longtime owners may look around and realize they’d rather cash out than hang on.
Second, age. Reinsdorf is 88. Peter Angelos is already gone and David Rubenstein isn’t exactly young. John Fisher is 63 and he’s the young face of legacy ownership. There’s no Mark Cuban coming in to shake things up here. (Thank g-d.) Instead, we’ve got guys like David Blitzer or Josh Harris, who use sports teams the way old tycoons used racehorses. Teams are status symbols that occasionally make money, but always make introductions. It’s good to be seen on a yacht at Cannes, but better to be seen walking the field in your team’s colors on the Fox pregame.
These are generational shifts and they’re not necessarily bad. Jerry Reinsdorf, for all the Sox fans who want to blame him for everything from Ozzie Guillen’s exit to the fact that Eloy Jiménez can’t stay upright, won a World Series. He kept the team in Chicago. He gave Kenny Williams power at a time when African-American executives were still mostly treated as mascots. Reinsdorf cared. Maybe not always in the right ways, but he was never absent. That’s more than you can say for half the league.
What’s next? Ishbia is not some absentee landlord. He’s a Phoenix guy with Michigan roots and a competitive streak. He has shown he’s not afraid to spend or take swings, sometimes literally, and he wants to matter. That’s important. The White Sox have been irrelevant — narratively, commercially, spiritually — for most of the last decade. If Ishbia wants to change that, even a little, it starts with infrastructure.
A new stadium isn’t a bad idea. New Commiskey or whatever sponsor’s name you slap on it isn’t historic and it isn’t beloved. It’s fine, which is another way of saying it’s forgettable. I actually like it and have great memories of the 2005 World Series there. New ownership means the team can go to the city and state with clean hands and say, we’re not threatening to move, but we need help. The Daley’s aren’t holding them in Bridgeport and if The 78 becomes a bookend of the Sox and the Fire, who’s to say that doesn’t work?
But back to the broader point: who’s next?
Look at the Mariners. The ownership group is massive, with a former Microsoft exec nominally at the top. If the right bidder came along, that team’s gone. The Reds? Family-owned, not forever. The Pirates? You think Bob Nutting (age-63) wants to be remembered as that guy forever?
Sources I trust believe at least five teams are actively preparing their books for sale or generational transition. That doesn’t mean they’re listing on eBay next week. It means they’re doing valuations, exploring private equity-style “non-voting minority” sales, and evaluating succession plans. The Wilpons showed how badly this can go. The DeWitts might show how it should.
Yes, private equity is knocking and petrostate funds are watching closely. You might think the league’s investment fund is just a fun way to diversify some broadcast money. It’s not. It’s a proving ground. It’s a sandbox where PE firms can get comfortable with baseball’s cash flows, media rights, and debt structures. Once they’ve learned the rules, they’ll buy the board.
That might terrify some people, but it’s already happened in the NBA. Judging by the NBA finals between two “small market teams” it hasn’t ruined anything yet. The question is whether baseball can survive the next phase of this without losing what little connection it still has to cities and fans. Will the new owners be owners or just asset managers?
There’s the 49ers ownership group, already diversified into global sports through their majority stake in Glasgow Rangers. If Bob Davis, Bob Castellini or Bob Nutting ever wavers, there are whispers that Jed York and Paraag Marathe wouldn’t mind adding the other Rangers or a legacy NL Central team to their portfolio. Ken Griffin looms in Miami, having relocated Citadel and planted deep roots. He’s the kind of buyer who could write the check tomorrow and have city hall on line two by lunch.
Then there’s the quiet rise of crypto money and fintech fortunes: people like Brian Armstrong of Coinbase or Fred Ehrsam of Paradigm, who still want a legacy asset now that the gold rush has cooled. Don’t rule out someone like Jack Dorsey, who’s said little publicly about sports but has both the cash and the messianic streak to want to “fix” baseball.
The next generation of owners may not be lifers. They may be disruptors with liquidity and a brand to extend. Some of them already have their lawyers doing the math. You probably wouldn’t recognize any of them. But they might own your favorite team by 2030.
This is the last gasp of the “know your owner” era. Before long, it might be holding companies and shell corps, tax shelters and “strategic partnerships.” The Steve Cohens of the world — flamboyant, obsessive, occasionally reckless, but utterly fascinating — are going to get rarer, not more common.
But in that void, there’s room for storytelling. For vision. For someone, maybe even Ishbia, to look at a tired franchise and say: “Let’s matter again.”
If not? Well, at least it’s an appreciating asset.
On to the injuries:
JUSTIN MARTINEZ, RP ARZ (sprained elbow)
It was bad for the Diamondbacks to lose their ace a week ago. It would be worse if they lost their closer as well. That’s what it looks like, after Justin Martinez left with the medical staff. Initial testing and imagine were both positive (as in, something’s sprained not as in a positive vibe) and he’s already heading for a second opinion.
This isn’t going to change the verdict, but the type of surgery and the surgeon are about all remaining to be set. The Elbow Five are used to these kind of auditions and like Corbin Burnes, Martinez is going to follow the same timeline if not the same footsteps. Martinez’s season is done and how much of next year is really the question at this point. Martinez is young and throws hard, so this isn’t a surprise. Make a note to yourself that he’ll be good come ‘27 (assuming ‘27 comes on time.)
I don’t watch the D-Backs that much and as I looked through to see who’d be the next man up, I’d thought Paul Sewald, but he’s in Cleveland. The next up is likely Shelby Miller, the former Cards starter who’s made something of a Luke Weaver adjustment at age-34. He’s already got a handful of saves, so with Kendall Graveman still sidelined and unearned, Miller’s the guy.
MAX SCHERZER, P TOR (sprained thumb)
The fact that Max Scherzer had a 50-pitch sim game is both a positive and a problem. All along with this thumb issue, Scherzer had said he hits a wall around 50 pitches and that it gets worse quickly at that point. Injections and inspections haven’t found a way past that, so this latest sim game is both a “nice, 50 pitches” and “he can’t make it past the wall.” He’s scheduled for a bullpen session Wednesday and if he makes it through that, he’ll head out on a rehab assignment with a 60-pitch goal and that will be the real test.
Then again, Scherzer could well be limited to 50 pitches and given effectiveness and efficiency, the Blue Jays should be able to find a way to use him. High-leverage Scherzer? Mad Max Closer, or Opener? I’m convinced that a creative solution is better than just saying “he can’t go 100 pitches” because, how many do? This is a whole separate discussion but as much as I talk about creative rotations, creative daily use should be as much a part of that as the rest.
We’ll know more on Scherzer, specifically, but the Blue Jays are hoping that Scherzer can be something of a mid-season catalyst. His energy is infectious and there’s few that say anything negative about him as a teammate. He could well be a difference maker for a close but winnable division and it’s going to be a big tell for the front office and the medical staff to make that happen.
More on … well, a lot of pitchers. It’s a lot of pitchers behind the paywall, friends.