By BRUCE WEBER
Published: August 18, 2007

TIM DONAGHY, the National Basketball Association referee who pleaded guilty this week to federal charges stemming from his participation in an illegal gambling scheme, has sent a shudder through professional sports. Those who administer the games rightly fear for the integrity of their livelihoods, and those who watch the games fear for the purity of their pleasure.

David Stern, the N.B.A. commissioner, has declared the situation unique and has explained the many safeguards the league employs to prevent the sorts of transgressions that Donaghy committed. Along with background checks and a full-time security staff, the league pays its referees substantial sums to minimize the lure of illicit money-earning activities: Donaghy’s salary was $260,000 annually.
Stern’s defense of N.B.A. policy was reasonable and somewhat reassuring. But it raises questions about an integrity loophole in another sport: Major League Baseball.
There are just 70 umpires in the major leagues, and like the referees in the N.B.A. they are well-paid, well-supervised and as well-insulated from undue influence as the sport’s security staff can make them. But minor-league umpires also work hundreds of major-league ball games every year.
During any given season, there are 15 or so of these men, selected by Major League Baseball to fill in for big-leaguers who are on vacation, injured or absent for some other reason. They are not inexperienced, having spent up to a dozen years ascending to the Triple A level of the minor leagues, one rung below the majors. But because they are not major-league employees, they are not paid big- league salaries, nor are they subject to big-league security vetting.
A handful of minor-league umps end up working games every day from April to September — more games than the regular umps, who get four weeks off during the season.

For each game, they are paid a pro-rated portion of a first-year salary for a big-league umpire, which is about $90,000. By comparison, most big league umps earn between $200,000 and $400,000. When there is no big league assignment, they find themselves back in Triple A, where the salary reverts to the minor-league standard, which tops out at $3,500 per month.

None of this is to suggest that any umpire is corrupt. The record of umpires in the big leagues is better than that of players and managers: the only time a major league umpire was accused of gambling on baseball was in 1882, and the individual, Richard Higham, was promptly fired and banned from the game.
Nor is it to suggest that the hardworking minor-league umpires who aspire to nothing more than getting to “The Show” — the same thing minor-league players aspire to — are ethically soft or vulnerable. (Donaghy’s prestige and six-figure salary didn’t inoculate him, after all.) But if you were a gambler with mischief on your mind, whom would you target?

A decade ago, Major League Baseball got out of the umpire development business, ceding the training of umpires to the minor leagues. But if Major League Baseball is concerned, as it should be, with the threat posed by a frustrated or bankrupt (financially or morally) umpire, it ought to be paying attention to those who are most likely to take their dissatisfaction out on the game.

To reduce the risk of yet another gambling scandal, baseball needs to invest in minor-league umpiring by improving the salary, benefits and training of those who will someday hold the major-league game upright.


Bruce Weber, a former Times reporter, is writing a book about umpires.