There are a few dates in any lifetime that burn their way into the brain, that remain etched in the memory like the carving on a gravestone. Oct. 29, 1929; Dec. 7, 1941; May 22, 1980. A day that will live in infamy, a day of shame. On that day, if all goes as expected, baseball will cease, the summer rites indefinitely suspended while the rich and the super-rich, the players and the owners, refight battles won and lost over the last decade.

In any sport-wide contract dispute, public opinion and the press seem to lay the presumption of guilt on the players. The players, who make the six-figure salaries that most Americans will never even approach, appear to be motivated in their labor action only by the petulant greed of selfish, coddled brats.

By contrast, baseball's owners present themselves to the public as the victims of their player's demands, forced to stand pat to prevent the total destruction of the sport by the forces unleashed by the players over the last decade. If they succeed in per-petuating that myth and gaining public support through it, the owners will ensure a long strike. In doing that they will betray player and fan alike in order to cover their own management lapses and gruesome lack of self-discipline.

Mort

The owners have no one to blame but themselves for their lack of restraint in inflating the price of even mediocre ballplayers. And anyone listening to owner's charges against players should remember which side raises ticket prices. Lacking any self-control, the owners must now hope that the public will believe management propaganda depicting the players as greedy spoilsports.

No one will know when baseball will resume after the batboys collect the bats on May 21. But as the principals bicker and claw, just remember this: if Bowie Kuhn and his cronies come to your house for dinner, count your spoons before they leave.