Some people don’t like Bruce Meyer.
As a labor lawyer, Meyer might consider that a badge of honor. Part of the job is getting demonized by the other side. But Meyer’s problem, before getting elected unanimously Wednesday as interim executive director of the Major League Baseball Players Association, was that some of his own people didn’t like him, either.
Players. Agents. Even some within the union, according to people briefed on the association’s dynamics.
Now, Meyer must rally not just his supporters but his opponents, the players and others who tried to oust him in March 2024, and all those who, in the wake of Tony Clark’s shocking resignation on Tuesday, mulled the possibility of someone else running the union.
Depending upon the outcome of the upcoming collective-bargaining negotiations, that possibility still might come to pass, with the players conducting a thorough search for a permanent executive director. But Meyer passed his first test Wednesday. Baltimore Orioles right-hander Chris Bassitt, a member of the union’s eight-player subcommittee, lauded Meyer and union general counsel Matt Nussbaum for their support during the federal investigation into Clark’s handling of union finances. The union elevated Nussbaum in conjunction with Meyer, naming him interim deputy executive director.
“One of the beautiful things about this entire process and this investigation is that we found out who really had our backs through this whole thing,” Bassitt said. “At the forefront of having our backs through this whole process and trying to do the right thing was Bruce and Matt. I don’t want to speak for the investigation because it’s not over with. But they were always trying to do the right thing every step of the way.”
Now comes the next challenge, entering perhaps the most critical bargaining year in the union’s history – fighting off Major League Baseball’s latest quest for a salary cap. The owners, who are expected to lock out the players when the current CBA expires on Dec. 1, seem hellbent on getting a cap even if means cancelling games in 2027.
To succeed in holding the union together, Meyer must do something that does not necessarily come naturally for him.
He must lead in a grander way than he has before.
Clark had many faults, but perhaps his biggest strength was his feel for players, his ability to communicate with them as a former player himself. He wasn’t especially charismatic, but he was more charismatic than Meyer, who can be humorless and combative. And now, Meyer will be the union’s front-facing representative, in addition to its top negotiator.
Meyer is not without leadership experience. As Clark’s No. 2, he led the union in past bargaining and had a staff that worked under him. But, in the role of executive director, Meyer is like a bench coach turned first-time manager. Maybe he possesses the touch to guide a broader group. But at the moment, there is no way to know.
The league’s disdain for Meyer is to be expected. The union did not hire him in August 2018 to be MLB’s friend. After getting rolled in the previous collective bargaining agreement, the players needed a tougher negotiator. And Meyer, whose instinct would be to say “no” if commissioner Rob Manfred offered him a mere glass of water, adeptly filled that role.
If the union wants to make its opponent as uncomfortable as possible, just as a manager would in determining late-inning matchups, then Meyer was the right choice. The league sees him as unyielding, a roadblock to a cap. It is just what the union should want at a time when the owners are seeking a radical overhaul of the game’s economic system. Someone to stand up to the bully.
For the union, hiring an attorney from the outside would have made little sense. After seven and a half years on the job, Meyer knows the issues, the nuances and the strategies the league might employ. He sparred with the league’s top negotiator, deputy commissioner Dan Halem, during the 2020 Covid season and the lockout after the 2021 campaign.
The current CBA, which includes measures to curb tanking and service-time manipulation, reflected Meyer’s negotiating acumen, and was a step forward for the union.
His job, though, is no longer just lead negotiator. Meyer told reporters before the vote on Wednesday that the job requires a leader, “essentially a CEO.” Whether Meyer can operate in such a manner is an open question, but it’s not as if similar types haven’t led the union before. Before Clark, the first former player to become the union’s executive director, the organization was led only by attorneys – Marvin Miller, Donald Fehr, Michael Weiner.
Miller, who built the Players Association into a powerhouse that transformed sports, “lacked the charisma of fiery old-style labor leaders,” according to his obituary in the New York Times, which said he was typically described as, “calm, patient, even-keeled.” Fehr, like Miller, was whip-smart, but occasionally came off as condescending. Weiner, too, had the necessary intellect, and also radiated a warmth that endeared him to players.
Meyer, then, would appear as a logical choice to continue the tradition of attorneys running the union. But less than two years ago, a faction of player leaders confronted Clark and urged him to replace Meyer with Harry Marino, a lawyer who organized minor-league players and helped them eventually become part of the union.
Although the attempted coup failed, it exposed disenchantment with both Clark and Meyer. Part of that disenchantment stemmed from a perception that persists among some players and agents – that Scott Boras, the sport’s most powerful agent, exerts an inordinate amount of influence on the union.
Meyer and Boras long have denied that charge. A former player represented by Boras described it as almost laughable, saying that, during the time of the attempted coup, Meyer frequently ignored Boras’ calls and pushed back on any ideas he had about the union’s direction. The player said he admires Meyer, describing him as a bulldog who isn’t easily influenced by others.
Bassitt, who is represented by Barry Meister, said the perception of a problematic Meyer-Boras alliance stems from a lack of transparency between the union and its members.
The players, Bassitt said, were uninformed.
“One of our biggest goals throughout all this is just trying to inform every single player of what’s going on, so they know,” Bassitt said. “I feel in the past we haven’t done the best job of that. We’re going to try to be very, very good and very, very diligent when it comes to that.”
So, is the Meyer-Boras connection overstated?
“I just don’t know why it’s a story in general, honestly,” Bassitt said. “I think the story is not Scott Boras. The story is the lack of transparency when it came to the past and how we distributed information amongst the players.”
Still, the Boras-related tension flared again in the behind-the-scenes jockeying to replace Clark over the last two days. Boras endorsed Meyer and other union attorneys to The Athletic, saying, “The MLBPA has talented, experienced and well-respected legal counsel in place. Their leadership embodies solidarity and is trusted and championed by the players.”
But some agents, granted anonymity for their candor, said Boras’ clients among the player leadership were pressuring other player reps to elect Meyer.
“The consensus is that, if they are pressed to just go along, it will cause a huge fracture within the rank and file when solidarity is needed for the CBA,” one agent said.
As much as the league might hold Meyer in disdain, it surely relishes the possibility of his election sowing division within the union. Whatever the truth might be about Boras’ influence, Meyer must emerge as a beacon for the entire player population. Publicly at least, players are talking predictably tough, saying they are ready for the coming fight, vowing to remain united. But words at this point, including the cap-or-else stance by some on the league’s side, mean little.
The expiration of the CBA is nearly 10 months away. The true test of the players’ strength will come after the expected lockout begins. Meyer will be confronted with a mighty task, holding together a union that includes young players and old, highly paid superstars and minimum salaried rookies, as well as a diverse membership that, last Opening Day, featured players from 18 different countries and territories.
Some people don’t like Meyer. Some people didn’t like Marvin Miller, either. In the end, an executive director need be popular only among the people who work for him, and the players he represents. Such is the challenge Meyer faces. Like a player who elevates his game in the biggest moments, he must find another gear.
