I AM NOT a Seattle Mariners fan.

I grew up in Seattle and I like baseball but, frankly, I shed few tears when I first heard that the Mariners might be sold and moved to Florida. After hearing a rumor to this effect almost annually, my initial reaction was: So what, I'd rather watch a good farm team play in an outdoor park than a second-rate major league team play in a football stadium cum missile silo.

Seattle is a test case, however, both for a misguided policy on foreign investment as well as the future of Major League baseball in small markets. What happens to the Mariners should be of concern to baseball fans everywhere.

Amid rumors that he wanted an excuse to move the team to Florida, Seattle Mariners owner Jeff Smulyan announced in January that the team was for sale. His contract with the country mandates a two-month period during which local buyers have priority over outside interests.

Some Seattlites suggested that the Nordstrom family buy the Mariners or that Boeing subsidize the team in some way. Most serious baseball fans prayed that the patron saint of Seattle, Microsoft whiz kid Bill Gates, would turn out to have played Little League before turning to computers.

The Mariners have always had problems attracting local owners, however. Smulyan is from Indianapolis. The previous owner, George Argyros, was from California.

Then they found him: a respected local businessperson whose company employed 1400 area workers, whose children went to Seattle schools, and who, unlike Argyros or Smulyan, actually possesses a Washington State driver's license. A resident for 15 years, Minoru Arakawa seemed the perfect man to head a coalition of Seattle backers.

PERFECT, THAT IS, only for those interested in keeping baseball in Seattle. Despite lip service to the contrary, local ownership has never been a priority for Major League baseball, as was demonstrated again in the flap created by Minoru Arakawa's nationality. He and the potential investor--Nintendo, owned by his father-in-law--are Japanese.

Japanese purchase of the Mariners would violate an agreement made by Major League owners last year banning more than a certain percentage of foreign investment. If Baseball Commissioner Fay Vincent's comments on the Nintendo bid are any indication, this misguided rule is likely to be upheld.

The policy banning foreign investment reflects and may even feed the kind of knee-jerk protectionist attitude increasingly prevalent in recessionary America.

In recent weeks, George F. Will and other columnists have portrayed the Nintendo bid as another Japanese threat to American society. In the current xenophobic climate, it should surprise no one that baseball is being brandished as a point of no return in some sort of domino theory of Japanese investment.

They already have our real estate, our car market, our electronic technology, the pundits seem to be saying. If they get our national pastime, can Mom and apple pie be far behind?

Major League baseball is no less a business than the automobile industry. "American" cars are assembled in Mexico; our national sport is full of stars from Central America. Japanese investment in the Mariners will not make the team less American, it will simply ensure that the team stays in Seattle. Arakawa's passport may be from Japan, but he offers the Mariners the first opportunity for genuine local ownership in almost a decade.

The issue of foreign investment aside, the Mariners' quandary has implications for the future of baseball in small markets.

Smulyan, like Argyros before him, has been widely quoted as saying that baseball in Seattle is a losing venture and that the community doesn't support the Mariners. Smulyan has claimed that as much as he would like to keep baseball in Seattle, he can't afford to. If local buyers don't come forward, Smulyan says he will sell the team to outside interests.

While the courts debate whether the team can be legally moved at this point in their contract, it is widely believed that Tampa-St. Petersburg would be the eager recipients of a transient Mariners team. There is more "support" for baseball in Florida, Smulyan says.

More support means more money.

No one would argue that there is less money in Seattle than in Florida, or more in Los Angeles than Kansas City. Smaller markets have fewer television and radio stations which pay less money for the broadcast rights to games. Fans with lower salaries must be attracted with lower ticket prices. These regional economic facts of life are accepted by most.

McDonald's does not expect a franchise in Portland, Or, to make as much money as one in New York City or to pay their employees the same salaries. Major League baseball suffers from a peculiar blind spot in this regard.

One example is the current arbitration process for determining player salaries. If the Yankees begin paying an outfielder with a .235 batting average $400,000 a year, a player from Seattle with a similar average will demand equity when his contract comes up. Most of the time he is given it. There is no recognition of the huge difference in the two teams' revenues, of the cost of living differential or even of the different tax structure in each state.

This problem has been exacerbated in the last few years by changes in rules governing free agency. As more players call the shots, salary inflation has skyrocketed. Unable to afford young stars, low-revenue teams are doomed to mediocrity.

THIS IS NOT to say that Smulyan and other owners owe all their financial difficulties to the outrageous demands of players. Among the expenses that Smulyan has attributed to the Mariners when calculating his "losses" are a chartered plane to take him from Indianapolis to "home" games (Arakawa could take the bus) and payments he is still making on the loan that financed his purchase of the team in the first place. Smulyan is not losing money--he is just not making as much as he wants as quickly as he had hoped.

The fact remains, however, that baseball owners, particularly those with no personalties to their team's communities, will always be interested in profit margins. Lackluster teams in slow markets are at risk whenever their owners get itchy feet. Seattle may be facing the dilemma now, but other small cities may be at risk tomorrow.

Some of this movement is perhaps inevitable. Any former Dodgers or Giants fan could tell you that. But if baseball is to be kept a "national" sport, it cannot afford an unchecked gravitation motivated only by a desire for bigger bucks.

Major League baseball has always had a disturbing sink or swim attitude toward the weaker of its members. Baseball officials should not place a xenophobic regulation over the best interests of Seattle fans.

Something might be gaining, but it won't be baseball.

Lori E. Smith '93-'94, a Crimson editor, is a Red Sox fan.