The alleged collapse in contract extension talks between the Pittsburgh Pirates and their star outfielder Bryan Reynolds underwent a swift spin for the purpose of shaping public opinion. Rather predictably, the basis for the collapse was attributed to the Reynolds camp’s rumored aim for an opt out clause after 4 more years (end of 2026) of the duration of his proposed contract to be part of the eventual pact. Such a take would place Reynolds, who had been acknowledged as the flexible party in discussions, as the one responsible for the adversity in reaching accord. However, the so-called "source" behind this claim remains identified. Curiously, Reynolds and Pirates GM Ben Cherington had each pledged, as of Thursday, not to discuss details with the media. Someone evidently did. And, obviously, they had an agenda—to portray Reynolds (and/or his representatives) as unreasonable by bargaining in bad faith. Equally apparent is who might have the motive to do so.
The disingenuous organization possesses a well-known reputation for maintaining leverage at the cost of the ball club’s success and the best interests of the team’s fans. There are numerous instances—from past contract dealings to dubious management of player service time to trades intended to jettison established players for Double-A prospects. What better way to undermine the image (and negotiating stance) of the popular Reynolds than to float a questionable but potentially significant aspect of the talks to franchise-friendly reporters? They comprise the perfect dupes in the equation, always eager for a scoop, which is what is valued over accuracy and objectivity. Do many such reporters mind "being played?" It does not appear so. They are characteristically complicit while carrying out the whims of management.
Reporters who ingratiate themselves to the front office earn perks for their cooperation, including extended interviews with key personnel and invitations to limited-access team events. There are reciprocal rewards. The team’s public relations department benefits from the Pittsburgh sports media’s surrogate support in influencing local perceptions. Meanwhile, there is a large contingent of wannabe media—self-promoters who operate podcasts and team-oriented fansites. They, too, angle for the opportunities to receive information that, in turn, they disseminate to the like-minded and less-discerning followers. Shills do not practice journalism ethically. Beyond that, even more exaggeration or distortion from their audience can ensue from what is stated. It may become a feeding frenzy with little regard to authenticity. For instance, it did not take long on social media for the 4-year opt out request to be reimagined, again without merit, as a 3-year one.
To date, there has been no pushback from the Reynolds camp about being vilified. It is understandable. If his covert goal originally was for the team to deal him to a better club (of which there are very many), he may not mind the prevailing rhetoric or balk about the direction. Such sentiment may expedite his exit. In the short run, the irony of the front office marshalling public perception in its favor would backfire on the naive fans. Reynolds, arguably the club’s best player, then departs while less expensive, less effective commodities would replace him, but in the minor leagues. The method or cycle of how the organization operates—"We’ll contend in a few years"—triumphs again. And this is the danger of manipulative reporting with its flim-flam quality, as the gullible would be shafted again, believing a pot of gold waits at the end of the rainbow.