Stealing the limelight this week from the two pennant races will be the latest Congressional investigation of baseball's reserve clause. The clause, binding a player to one club for the whole of his baseball career, was first seriously challenged in 1947 by returning Mexican League jumpers. They chained that they were being denied a livelihood because of the clause. At that time, Danny Gardella and others settled their cases out of court, reputedly for a fabulous sum. Baseball's moguls settled back and relaxed again.

But the Mexican payoff was only a prelude. It opened the way for every disgruntled player to sue baseball in the federal courts on the basis that the reserve clause violates the anti-trust laws. And now Congressman Emmanuel Caller, an old friend of Happy Chandler's, has decided to parade the whole issue before a House committee in order to decide it "once and for all." Some people see in this move a last minute attempt by retiring Commissioner Chandler to prove his indispensible political influence. Whatever the lawmakers may say, the reserve clause is essential. Without it, signing of contracts every year would turn into a running dogfight between the owners and players, in which the rich clubs would corral the best talent. Further, owners would not pour thousands of dollars into the huge farm systems which produce the ballplayers, without assurance that players thus developed would not join another club later.

The charge of "monopoly" levied against baseball overlooks the fact that baseball is a sport; baseball owners cannot compete with each other financially--they are mutually dependent for success. Collusion would occur even without the clause.

Undoubtedly, the clause does cause some hardship in the minor leagues where there is no minimum wage; baseball should make every effort to improve conditions there. But regardless of any political juggling, the reserve clause cannot be thrown out of baseball without serious results.