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Landis family’s story illustrates baseball’s financial changes

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Jim Landis looks at a poster signed by players from both teams that played in the 1959 World Series at Brookdale Assisted Living in Napa, California, on Thursday, Dec. 3, 2015.
Jim Landis looks at a poster signed by players from both teams that played in the 1959 World Series at Brookdale Assisted Living in Napa, California, on Thursday, Dec. 3, 2015.Connor Radnovich/The Chronicle

Jim Landis played in the 1959 World Series, finished seventh in the MVP voting and held out for a $5,000 raise. He was denied.

“I think it would’ve gotten me up to 18 grand,” Landis said. “In those days, you didn’t have power.”

East Bay-bred and now a Napa resident, Landis, 81, won five consecutive Gold Gloves as a center fielder, the American League’s answer to Willie Mays. He had a .344 on-base percentage over 11 seasons, topping at .370, which equates to a lot of money these days.

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Landis broke into the majors with Chicago in 1957. He later played for the Kansas City A’s, Cleveland, Houston, Detroit and Boston.
Landis broke into the majors with Chicago in 1957. He later played for the Kansas City A’s, Cleveland, Houston, Detroit and Boston.Kidwiler Collection / Diamond Images/Getty Images

Not that it helped him financially back then, what with no agent.

“What was an agent?” he asked.

He knows now. Landis’ son, Craig, 57, was the Giants’ first-round pick in 1977, an outfielder who played six years in pro ball but didn’t reach the majors. He accepted a football scholarship at Stanford, where he earned three degrees, the beginning of his path to becoming a successful agent.

In March 2014, he negotiated a $144.5 million contract for Mike Trout.

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“I think my son’s a lot luckier than me,” Landis the elder said.

Different generations. Different paths to the big leagues. Different labor rights and regulations. It’s epitomized by the career paths of a father and son, one strong-armed by owners and the other benefiting from a strong players’ union. The Landis clan represents different ends of the story of how the baseball players’ union rose to power, how owners had to start sharing the wealth and how salaries skyrocketed.

Jim Landis has no regrets. He played in an era in which owners had the hammer on all financial matters and dictated all salaries and terms, but Landis loved to play too much to complain about compensation or conditions.

Jim Landis sits in a wheelchair with his 1961 Gold Glove award at Brookdale Assisted Living in Napa, California, on Thursday, Dec. 3, 2015.
Jim Landis sits in a wheelchair with his 1961 Gold Glove award at Brookdale Assisted Living in Napa, California, on Thursday, Dec. 3, 2015.Connor Radnovich/The Chronicle

In large part, that’s just the way it was. Landis played from 1957 to 1967, leaving the game just as players began to unionize. The players hired Marvin Miller, the lead negotiator for the United Steelworkers union in 1966, and baseball’s first collective bargaining agreement was negotiated in 1968.

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“Thank God for Marvin Miller,” Landis said.

Imagine Landis’ plight when he became a player rep late in his career. He agreed to the role on an interim basis until his teammates elected someone more permanent, and he immediately had a pressing issue. Chicago players had the opportunity to make $50 for radio interviews, but management objected.

Apparently, owners wanted full control and didn’t want players making extra dough on side gigs.

“The team didn’t like that kind of stuff. In our day, they were sort of cheap,” Landis said. “Well, it got up to the front office, and I was on my butt (benched). The next year, I got traded.”

Yes, thank God for Marvin Miller.

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Not much leverage

“Some people think players have it too easy, but back then, there was no recourse for anything,” Craig Landis said from his home in Murrieta (Riverside County). “If they put you on the bench or in Triple-A, you couldn’t leave the organization and be free. My dad had to negotiate his own contracts. There wasn’t much leverage.

“Nowadays, there are mechanisms. Obviously, players have a lot more rights.”

Miller’s first CBA raised the minimum salary to $10,000, and he continued to fight for pension contributions, licensing programs, salary arbitration and free agency, which came amid landmark cases involving Curt Flood, Andy Messersmith, Dave McNally and Catfish Hunter, all of whom challenged the reserve clause, which bound a player to a team in perpetuity unless he was released.

Free agency arrived in 1976, permitting players to sign with any team after six seasons. Landis missed the freedom, but his son joined pro ball just as players were gaining power.

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Craig Landis was a multisport athlete at Vintage High School in Napa, an All-American in football and baseball, and signed a letter of intent to play quarterback at UCLA. But when the Giants selected him in the first round of the 1977 draft, 10th overall, he figured he had a shot at the big leagues.

6 seasons in minors

His signing bonus was $60,000, all the money in the world compared with his dad’s income, but nothing compared with today’s signings. The 10th overall pick in June’s draft, high school shortstop Cornelius Randolph, received $3.2 million from the Phillies.

The younger Landis played four years in the Giants’ system, befriending Bob Brenly and Chili Davis, and two in the Braves’ system, having been traded in December 1980 with John Montefusco to Atlanta for Doyle Alexander. Landis spent his final three seasons in Triple-A.

“I just didn’t do as well as I had hoped,” he said. “It wasn’t about a serious injury, politics or getting screwed over by an organization.”

Landis did have vision issues, especially in night games (not a factor in high school), because of his nearsightedness. Laser surgery wasn’t available, and he had trouble tracking pitches and judging balls in the outfield. He still hit .284 with a .393 OBP but didn’t think he was making enough progress, including with his power, for a call-up.

So he returned to football, accepting a Stanford scholarship and playing defensive back and special teams for Paul Wiggin and Jack Elway in the 1980s and earning three degrees in economics (BA, master’s and MBA) that led to a two-year stint on Wall Street with Shearson Lehman.

A career in sports

He wanted to return to sports, whether it was as a college athletic director, a sporting-goods executive, a front-office official with the Giants or A’s — he got a chance to pick former Oakland executive Sandy Alderson’s brain during an interview — or an agent.

While at Stanford, a friend asked if he’d represent a high schooler from Napa before the 1991 draft, so Landis familiarized himself with the rules and talent, enjoyed the process and ultimately figured it was his calling.

He has been an agent for 24 years and negotiated with the Giants on deals for outfielders Randy Winn and Aaron Rowand. At one time, Landis represented five members of the White Sox, his dad’s old team, which Craig said was a coincidence.

The White Sox won the 2005 World Series, their first appearance since 1959, and brought back players from the ’59 team (which fell to the Dodgers in six games) to honor them before the opener. Jim was there, along with teammates Luis Aparicio, Billy Pierce, Jim Rivera, Bob Shaw and J.C. Martin, and Craig was there as the agent for Paul Konerko, Rowand and others.

So was Craig’s son, Tyler, then 8.

“They gave my dad a suite, and my son and I were sitting with him, my son in my lap, when Konerko hit a grand slam,” said Craig Landis, recalling a 7-6 Chicago victory over Houston in Game 2. “That tied it all together.”

Before the 2009 draft, Landis was among many agents who contacted a highly talented player from Millville Senior High School in New Jersey, and the kid chose Landis to represent him. The kid was Trout, who was selected 25th overall by the Angels. Landis negotiated a $1.2 million bonus.

These days, Trout is Landis’ lone client. “Mike keeps me busy,” said Landis, who oversees Trout’s marketing, including about 10 business and endorsement partnerships. Landis said many offers were turned down.

Dad’s a Trout fan

When Landis negotiated Trout’s $144.5 million, six-year contract — through three arbitration years and three free-agent years — they were second-guessed in the industry for not pushing for a longer deal for the game’s best overall player and possibly a $300 million guarantee. But the center fielder has lifetime security and will hit free agency at 29, right in his prime.

One of Trout’s biggest fans was a decent center fielder himself.

“He’s got all the tools,” Jim Landis said. “He can run like a deer. He’s all baseball. You know what they’re trying to do with Trout? Make him swing at the first pitch more often and cut down on strikeouts. Well, Mickey Mantle led the league every year in strikeouts. Let the kid alone. Be happy with what you’ve got.”

The elder Landis was a .247 career hitter but was on base a lot, stole a lot, went first to third in a flash and had a strong arm. The World Series year, he hit .272 with a .379 on-base percentage — and, for what it’s worth, a 5.7 WAR, sixth highest in the league.

Two years later, he had 22 homers and 85 RBIs. He was a two-time All-Star.

“We didn’t care about stats in our day,” Landis said. “Just go play hard, do the best you can. I was told, ‘You’re only out there for two hours. You can’t play hard for two hours?’ That stuck with me, boy. You ran your ass off to first base even if you’re out by 20 feet. Today, you watch them lollygag.”

Playing in the shadow of Willie, Mickey and the Duke (Snider), the legendary New York center fielders, Landis held his own. Casey Stengel once said of Landis, “My men don’t even round first when he’s out there.”

Nellie Fox won the MVP award, Early Wynn the Cy Young Award, and the 1959 White Sox collected more stolen bases than home runs (Aparicio stole 56 bags, Landis was second with 20) and won 35 one-run games, thus the nickname Go-Go Sox.

Defense and pitching

“I thought that was overrated,” Landis said. “We didn’t steal that many bases, Aparicio did. We had great defense and pitching. We weren’t a good hitting club, but we hit enough at the right time.”

The elder Landis grew up in Richmond and followed the Oakland Oaks and San Francisco Seals of the old Pacific Coast League. He attended Richmond High and Contra Costa College and joined the White Sox’s system in 1952, spending four seasons in the minors (and two years in the Army) before reaching the majors in 1957.

Six decades later, he continues to follow big-league ball from Napa, alongside his wife of 58 years, Sandy; they have four kids and five grandchildren. He questions some things about today’s game, including front-office decision-making and players’ knowledge of fundamentals, but not the big money being made, including Zack Greinke’s record deal signed in early December that pays $34.4 million annually.

“It goes to show you,” Jim Landis said, “owners aren’t losing money.”

John Shea is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. E-mail: jshea@sfchronicle.com

Twitter: @JohnSheaHey

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Photo of John Shea
National Baseball Writer

John Shea is the San Francisco Chronicle's national baseball writer and columnist. He has been covering baseball for four decades, including 37 years in the Bay Area. He wrote five baseball books, including the New York Times bestseller with Willie Mays “24: Life Stories and Lessons from the Say Hey Kid” and Rickey Henderson's autobiography, “Off Base: Confessions of a Thief.”