D'Amato: MLB strikes out with these old-timers

Bob Coluccio broke into the big leagues with the Milwaukee Brewers as a 21-year-old outfielder in 1973. He played during a time when a player needed four years of service credit to qualify for a pension.

Though Coluccio played parts of five seasons for three teams and had more than 1,000 at-bats, he finished his career 35 games shy of a pension.

All the 65-year-old Coluccio gets from MLB is a non-qualified retirement payment, which he estimated at $6,100 annually after taxes. Fortunately, he’s made a nice living as a luxury real estate specialist in Newport Beach, Calif.

Many of the roughly 500 surviving players who took the field for big-league teams from 1947’-79 aren’t as lucky. If they didn’t accrue four years of service credit, their maximum payment is $10,000 annually. And unlike a true pension, it can’t be passed on to a spouse or beneficiary when they die.

“I don’t want to sound like it’s something I don’t appreciate,” Coluccio said. “I certainly do. But realistically, it’s like saying, ‘Here’s a little something, guys. Now go away. And, by the way, if you die it’s not going to anybody else.’ ”

There are dozens of hard-luck stories. Don Dillard, who played for the Cleveland Indians and Milwaukee Braves, missed out on a pension by 17 service days. Former Detroit Tigers first baseman Jack Pierce received two payments before he died in 2012; he left behind a wife, six children and six grandchildren.

These were the players who walked picket lines and fought for free agency so that modern-day utility infielders can make millions.

“Well, it’s just the way it is,” said Bill Burbach, a Dickeyville native who pitched for the New York Yankees from 1969-’71. “It’s not right, but we fought and fought and fought and nothing ever happened. They finally gave us just a little bit of money to appease us.”

Was Burbach appeased?

“No, not at all,” he said. “Not when I look at guys who have 45 days in the big leagues and they collect a full pension.”

Since 1980, players have been guaranteed a minimum pension of $34,000 after just 43 service days and access to baseball’s generous health insurance plan after just one service day.

The 1980 deal came about when the late Ray Grebey, the chief labor negotiator for MLB owners, made the offer to the Major League Baseball Players Association to avert a strike over the Memorial Day weekend. But it was not made retroactive, so pre-1980 players were shut out.

“This is baseball’s dirty little secret,” said Doug Gladstone, who wrote a book about the subject titled, “A Bitter Cup of Coffee.” “Baseball does not have to negotiate this matter in collective bargaining. The alumni association isn’t going to bat for them. Nobody is showing the intestinal fortitude to right this wrong.”

It is a shame. And almost no one seems to care.

The 7,600-member Major League Baseball Players Alumni Association is more interested, Gladstone said, in “holding youth clinics and golf outings.” The author is especially critical of former player Tony Clark, executive director of the Major League Baseball Players Association.

“Tony Clark’s silence is deafening here,” Gladstone said. “He was the recipient of the Jackie Robinson Lifetime Achievement Award (in 2016). He does not live up to the ideals of that social pioneer.”

Steve Rogers, special assistant to Clark and the players’ pension liaison, did not return a message from the Journal Sentinel.

Coluccio, who drove a beer truck in the off-season to supplement his $18,000 baseball salary, knows not everyone has sympathy for the pre-1980 players.

“When they hear you played baseball, they relate it to the current time,” Coluccio said. “They think you’re doing great, you made all that money. Listen, it just wasn’t like that back then. In that respect, I think it’s difficult for the ordinary person to understand.

“People might say, ‘What are you complaining about?’ Again, I’m not really complaining. It’s just that something doesn’t seem right.”

No, it doesn’t. According to Forbes, a recent MLBPA benefit plan summary showed there was a staggering $2.7 billion of net assets available for benefits. A retroactive pension of, say, $40,000 and access to health insurance for those pre-1980 players would barely put a dent in that nest egg.

Baseball needs to step up to the plate and fix this.