NO sooner had the ink dried on the six-year $52m contract that the Boston Red Sox gave Daisuke Matsuzaka to lure him from Japan last month than the small print of the deal emerged.
Apart from that rather hefty basic salary, the club agreed to provide the 26-year-old pitcher with his own staff, including a physical therapist, a massage therapist, an interpreter, and a personal assistant. The Red Sox will also provide transport and accommodation during his time in America, and fork out for up to 90 flights between Boston and his homeland. Best of all is that the club thought this immense package represented a smart bit of business and genuine value for money.
"They were very important to the kid, " said Craig Shipley, overseer of the Sox international scouting operation, about the lengthy extras included in the negotiation. "There were concerns. Obviously there is a transition, given who he is and the attention he gets both here and in Japan. He wanted to make sure that on the field and off the field everything is taken care of. There needs to be an infrastructure set up for this kid that is going to allow him to do the best he can on the field."
Known variously as creature comforts, perks or benefits, these clauses have become accepted practice in baseball in recent years. The phenomenon began on a very small scale. Before signing for a club, marquee players started to request their own hotel rooms when on the road rather than sharing with teammates. It didn't take long then for some individuals to go a little farther and demand larger hotel suites to accommodate their growing egos.
"It went from an extra perk to the current situation, " said Chicago White Sox executive Roland Hemond. "There's a tendency to ask because it's a status symbol. They think it's a benefit, and it may be a detriment. Guys used to spend a lot of time talking baseball with their roommates. You don't have that anymore."
Once hotel suites became standard for stars of a certain wattage, the requests started to take on a different tone. In 2005, the Arizona Diamondbacks persuaded free agent third baseman Troy Glaus to join them by offering $45m over four years, and an extra $1m payment on top to cover his wife Ann's equestrian expenses.
Most sane people would argue that Glaus was already getting enough money to pay for his wife's horse-riding passion out of his own pocket. Apparently, this was the Diamondbacks' way of proving they wanted him more than other clubs. When they traded him to the Toronto Blue Jays after just one season, the Canadian outfit even had to agree to increase the annual equestrian stipend to cover the cost of moving the wife's numerous horses.
The Diamondbacks are one of the more generous institutions with perks. Back in 1998, they gave Randy Johnson a four-year $53m deal that included two free courtside seats to the Phoenix Suns' home games in the NBA, and six tickets for life to every Diamondbacks' match once he retires. That he could have well afforded to buy those seats himself didn't seem to factor into the negotiations.
Within the game, many regard these clauses as the sporting equivalent of the rock band demanding a backstage bowl of M&Ms with all the brown ones taken out.
Once the practice of providing these extra benefits began, a culture of oneupmanship took root and there's a sense that sometimes players are just eager to see how much they can get away with. Not to mention that as soon as word emerges about one character getting a club on the hook for some extravagance or other - 37 boxes of Jello dessert in one celebrated instance - every agent starts making a similarsized demand on behalf of his clients.
In negotiating with the New York Mets a couple of years ago, Carlos Beltran wanted only two add-ons to his seven-year $116m deal.
The first was the use of the most sought-after 15 person corporate suite at Shea Stadium to entertain his family and friends at every home game. The second was that the club undertake to spend $85,000 leasing a machine known as a conditioned ocular enhancer. A device that fires brightly-coloured, numbered tennis balls at speeds of up to 150 mph, it helps hitters then see the baseball (usually pitched at somewhere between 85 and 100mph) that much better.
At least Beltran was looking for something designed to improve his performances on the field. Most of the time, these clauses are intended to save these unfortunate multi-millionaires a few extra bob. An annual salary of $10m doesn't stop them from asking their employers to pay for country club memberships, personal trainers and chefs. Former Boston Red Sox short-stop Nomar Garciaparra even had a provision put in his contract guaranteeing that if he was traded and couldn't sell his house for the previously appraised value, the club would guarantee to buy it from him at that very price.
With the new television money about to percolate through the FA Premiership again, and salaries expected to spike accordingly, it shouldn't be that long before Ashley Cole and his ilk start to realise there are other ways of squeezing more money from clubs.
Of course, somebody might have to explain to the Chelsea defender what a conditioned ocular enhancer is.
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