When Rusty Staub Faced the Nation: A Mets Voice Amid the 1981 Baseball Strike

On July 5, 1981, as Major League Baseball sat still in silence, the diamond’s disputes found their way to the Sunday morning airwaves. On Face the Nation, one of television’s most respected public affairs programs, New York Yankees owner George Steinbrenner and New York Mets first baseman Rusty Staub joined CBS News to publicly discuss the game’s crippling labor strike — a rare and fascinating crossover between America’s pastime and America’s political discourse.

For fans accustomed to seeing Staub’s trademark calm at the plate, this was something different. Here he was, not in the batter’s box but sitting at the table with one of baseball’s most outspoken owners, debating economics, fairness, and the future of the game before a national audience.

“Face the Nation” Meets the National Pastime

Face the Nation debuted on CBS on November 7, 1954, and has long stood as one of television’s most enduring news programs. Known for its measured tone and thoughtful questioning, the show has hosted U.S. Presidents, world leaders, and now and then — baseball figures thrust into the headlines. At the time of the 1981 broadcast, the program was moderated by CBS News correspondent George Herman , not Babe, and certainly not Ruth but a respected journalist known for his clear-eyed questioning and understated command of the discussion.

Herman’s presence gave the segment weight; Face the Nation wasn’t Wide World of Sports. This was where national policy was discussed, and now, baseball’s labor wars had reached that level of significance.

The 1981 Major League Baseball strike began on June 12 and dragged on for seven long weeks, wiping out 712 games — nearly a third of the season. The dispute centered on free agent compensation, as owners sought a system that would award them a player from another team’s roster when they lost one to free agency. The players, led by the formidable Marvin Miller and the MLBPA, viewed that proposal as an attack on the hard-won freedom of player movement.

By late July, tempers were short, the losses immense, and patience thin. Player salaries and owner revenues were both bleeding — an estimated $146 million evaporated during the stoppage — but the philosophical divide remained deep.

That’s when CBS invited two of New York’s most recognizable baseball figures to face each other — and the nation.

Rusty Staub vs. George Steinbrenner — a Civil Duel in Public

The broadcast opened with moderator George Herman posing the question everyone wanted answered:

“How long do you think the strike is likely to last?”

Rusty Staub, serving as a player representative for the Mets, didn’t sugarcoat it. “I really wish I could be optimistic,” he admitted, “but I’m not right now.”

Staub explained that the major problem was the owners’ insistence on directly punishing teams that signed free agents — a penalty that would effectively scare clubs away from signing top talent. “We’re just on two different planets,” he said bluntly.

George Steinbrenner, never one to shy from a public forum, smiled and countered with trademark bravado. “I guess I have to draw on Mark Twain,” he quipped. “The saddest thing to see is a young pessimist — except for an optimistic senior citizen like myself.”

Steinbrenner insisted that if both sides bargained in good faith, the strike could be over within a week. That optimism, of course, proved misplaced.

What made this television moment so compelling wasn’t just the content — it was the contrast.

Staub, known for his intelligence and empathy, calmly articulated the players’ view: that owners were trying to roll back the clock on free agency and fairness. He was measured, thoughtful, and even apologetic when the hot studio lights got the better of him. “Forgive me,” he said mid-discussion, “I think nobody understands how hot it gets in here sometimes.”

Steinbrenner, on the other hand, leaned into his role as the confident businessman. “I feel it’s only fair,” he said, “to give a good player back when I take a good player from another team.” It was classic Steinbrenner ,bold, self-assured, and more than a little contradictory, since he was the biggest spender in the free-agent market.

At one point, CBS correspondent Ray Gandolf asked if baseball might adopt the NBA’s new “right-to-match” system, in which teams could retain a player by matching an outside offer. Staub paused, composed himself, and answered with nuance explaining that the players were open to innovation but not at the cost of fairness or opportunity.

It was a rare window into the complexity of these negotiations, and into Staub’s depth as both a player and a thinker.

By 1981, Rusty Staub was in the later chapters of a remarkable 23-year career that had made him a fan favorite in both leagues , in Houston, where he broke in as a 19-year-old; in Montreal, where Le Grand Orange became a national hero; in Detroit, where he twice drove in more than 100 runs; and, most endearingly, in New York. Far from a fading veteran, Staub remained one of the game’s most professional and productive hitters deep into his thirties. At age 37, in his return to the Mets, he hit .317 with a .398 on-base percentage and a .466 slugging mark good for a 147 OPS+, proof that his bat still carried plenty of thunder. A six-time All-Star with over 2,700 career hits and 292 home runs, Staub was a student of the game and one of the few players respected equally by teammates, opponents, and fans alike.

That strong 1981 season reconnected Staub with the Shea faithful who had adored him in the early ’70s. He wasn’t just a beloved veteran , he had become a voice of reason and respect within the players’ union, representing both the intelligence and integrity that defined his long career. So when Face the Nation called, it made perfect sense that Rusty Staub would be the one to speak for the players.

On Face the Nation, he embodied the player’s side with grace and intellect, giving a human face to the union’s cause at a time when players were often vilified as greedy. Watching him spar respectfully with Steinbrenner underscored the dignity with which Staub carried himself and the broader intelligence of ballplayers who were often dismissed as “just athletes.”

The strike finally ended on July 31, 1981, with a compromise that allowed teams losing a premium free agent to select a replacement from a general pool of unprotected players. It wasn’t a perfect solution — no one was satisfied — but it got baseball back on the field. The All-Star Game was played on August 9 in Cleveland, followed by an unusual “split-season” format that would later be abandoned.

Attendance and TV ratings dropped sharply, and the bitterness lingered. But the image of Rusty Staub and George Steinbrenner sitting side by side, under the lights of a CBS studio, remains a remarkable snapshot of that strange summer , when America’s national pastime became a national policy discussion.

Looking back more than four decades later, that Face the Nation broadcast feels like more than just a baseball memory , it’s a window into a different kind of America. It was a time when television’s Sunday roundtables invited voices from beyond politics, when a player like Rusty Staub could sit next to George Steinbrenner and speak not in sound bites, but in sentences that carried thought and sincerity. In an age before scrolling headlines and social media outrage, it was refreshing to see disagreement handled with dignity, civility, and even a touch of humor. Watching it now, you’re reminded not only of how much the game has changed, but how much the national conversation has, too.

Staub’s composure and intellect on that stage reflected a grace that feels rare in today’s public square ,the kind that bridges differences rather than deepens them. And maybe that’s why the moment endures: it wasn’t just about baseball; it was about respect, reason, and the belief that honest dialogue still mattered.

For those who want to relive that remarkable intersection of sports, media, and the American spirit, you can watch the full Face the Nation episode below: