Former Partners Lawsuit example essay topic

by ANDREW deGRANDPR'E In a bittersweet act of vengeance, 14 former minority shareholders in the Montreal Expos have kicked up a shit storm - the stench of which has settled in Major League Baseball's front office. Commissioner Bud Selig is among the small band of parasites named in a multimillion-dollar lawsuit filed in Miami last summer. The limited partners, citing the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, claim Major League Baseball and former Expos owner Jeffery Loria fraudulently conspired to ransack, dismantle and ultimately eliminate the long-floundering Canadian franchise. Drafted more than 30 years ago, the RICO Act was designed as an instrument with which the U.S. government could combat organized crime.

Fittingly, one Montreal columnist has declared the ordeal "Baseball meets the Sopranos". The severity of the partners' claim, which includes accusations of mail and wire tapping, undoubtedly had a hand in crippling Selig's plan to contract the Expos at the end of the 2002 season. The shareholders are seeking $100 million in damages - a sum that would be tripled under the legalese mumbo jumbo defined in the RICO Act - and an injunction against MLB that would prohibit any attempt to fold or move the ball club until the case is resolved. With the resolution reached between owners and the players union during September's strike-averting labor negotiations, the Expos are all but assured of another season in Montreal - with, perhaps, a 20-game home stand in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

For the team's few-remaining faithful, there is now some contentious fodder to sling around the Web. Look no further than web Seriously. No further. The truly optimistic, though maniacal by common standards, actually smell a new stadium. On the surface, the former partners' lawsuit may appear to be a clever but desperate ploy of 14 embittered Canucks who want to recoup some dignity and boost local morale by bullying a financially trampled industry that is currently rife with sleaze and stupidity. Critics will brush it off as just another setback in a seemingly endless string of letdowns - like the labor issue and the disappointment after the 2002 half-ass All-Star game.

It'd be easy to perceive this thing simply as another reason to distrust a dishonest institution, and the fans have a right to be disgusted with the current state of the game. It's deplorable. But be careful not to overlook one of the lawsuit's principle undertones. This extends beyond the saber rattling and hard-sought financial retribution - it's egg on the face of baseball's #1 spoiler.

Selig received an old-fashioned Canadian panting and the great feeling of satisfaction needn't be restricted to baseball-retardant Montreal. The lawsuit is a fortuitous yet long-owed spew of swear words on behalf of baseball fans en masse who believe Selig is nothing but a sycophant who has displayed gross incompetence while trying rather feebly to run the big show. You'd be hard pressed to find a better candidate for such public embarrassment. Though fostered north of the border, rest assured American jurisprudence will prevail. That the shareholders, all Canadian, filed the lawsuit in a U.S. court is a perhaps a testament to their astuteness and great comprehension of our fine legal system. Or maybe it's just their desire to walk away with a shit-load of American money.

Regardless, the affair promises to be educational and will undoubtedly impact all fans' perception of the game over the next five years. But just incase this nasty mess brings about a positive and profound revolution for the industry at large, remember where you read the following slogan: Montreal Expos - America's team. 2002 by Andrew deGrandpr'e: freewheeling freelance journalist.