As usual, President Clinton had no idea what he was getting into.
His chances of passing health care reform were better than his chances of settling the baseball strike.
It just gets worse and worse for the Prez.
First, the Democratic Congress.
Then, the Republican Congress.
Now, these idiots.
Heck, Newt Gingrich and Bob Dole are puppy dogs compared to Bud Selig, Donald Fehr and the rest of the blockheads ruining major-league baseball.
Clinton figured he'd do the right thing, rise above the political fray, make everyone happy. Only the players and owners don't want to be happy. They don't know how to be happy.
They just want to fight.
It's all they've known, for the past 25 months, for the past 25 years. A superstar mediator can't stop them. The president of the United States can't stop them. And Congress won't try to stop them, so there.
The conservatives will love this.
As usual, Clinton is powerless.
The best he could do yesterday was extend the deadline for a settlement until 3 p.m. today. Not because the two sides were talking, mind you. Because there was no other choice.
Seriously, what can Clinton do?
This hardly qualifies as a national emergency, so his presidential authority is limited. Only Congress can impose a settlement through legislation, or force the sides to accept binding arbitration.
And Congress moves for no one.
Just yesterday, Rep. John Boehner of Ohio, a member of the House Republican leadership, said, "I believe, as does the speaker, in this case that we should not involve ourselves in the dispute."
Then there was Clinton, wondering why there's even a problem.
"It's just a few hundred folks trying to figure out how to divide nearly $2 billion," he said. "They ought to be able to figure that out."
You know, just like Clinton ought to be able to explain Whitewater.
When will the president learn?
Things are never so simple.
Especially with this crowd.
It's no different than in warring families, or even warring countries. The level of mistrust is so deep, the pattern of conflict so ingrained, the sides are unable to make peace.
This was never more evident than over the weekend. On the surface, the owners' removal of the salary cap appeared to be a breakthrough. Instead, it escalated the dispute to new levels.
The union could have seized the initiative by making a serious proposal Saturday, but true to form, it barely moved.
Why?
Because Donald Fehr is more concerned with winning legal battles than ending this despicable war.
Fehr was at it again yesterday, filing two more complaints with the National Labor Relations Board. He's right, he's always right, and don't you forget it. Never mind that he's completely out of touch with the outside world.
The owners, of course, are no better. Rather than negotiate Sunday -- heaven forbid -- they announced a signing freeze, prompting the latest round of legal protests from the union.
The owners don't want a settlement, either. No, they want the negotiations to crumble, so they can declare an impasse and try to implement their beloved salary cap again.
If at first you don't succeed, lie, lie again.
Where does all this leave the season? At this point, it's anyone's guess.
Special mediator William J. Usery admitted last night that "it seems impossible to reach a voluntary agreement." And if Congress refuses to intervene, it will be impossible to reach an involuntary agreement as well.
Spring training is set to begin in eight days. Maybe with real players. Maybe with replacement players. Maybe with no players at all.
Meanwhile, the president sits in the White House, crying, "Play Ball!" Think he's happy he entered this mess? It's going to be difficult for him even to save face now.
To think, this was all so predictable.
The players answer to no one when the games are on -- they're millionaires, the idols of a sports-crazed nation, and they do as they please.
The owners are no different, hiding behind their antitrust exemption, gouging fans with inflated ticket prices, engaging in unfair labor practices whenever it strikes their fancy.
The two sides are mirror images of one another -- they don't respect Congress, they don't respect the president, they don't respect anyone.
The president should have known this, or at least he should have been told. He's supposedly swinging a 40-ounce Louisville Slugger. But, as usual, he's striking out.