In 1960, at the height of her bodacious charms, Elizabeth Taylor became the first actress to earn $1-million for a movie, the much-derided Cleopatra.
More important, in a groundbreaking move, she pocketed 10 per cent of the gross (not profits, mind.) People were apoplectic - she was a greedy cow, hoovering up money as well as husbands. She might bankrupt Twentieth Century Fox. "An unheard-of price for an actress," sniffed the film's producer.
Think of that now: You couldn't hire Brad Pitt's goatee-trimmer for a million dollars.
These days, things are topsy- turvy. Even as film and TV stars' salaries expand wildly, they don't come in for nearly the same level of vitriol as athletes, who are doing the exact same thing: Selling their singular talent at a price, however inflated, that someone will pay.
Miami Heat star LeBron James has recently released some of the tweets he received since his well-publicized departure from the Cleveland Cavaliers. While the overtly racist tone in one tweet would repulse any normal person, a lot of people would share the main sentiment contained in the message: "ur greedy."
So Mr. James, who actually settled for a smaller salary with Miami than he would have earned with Cleveland, is considered a vulgar money-grubber, largely because of his grandstanding choice to pick one suitor over another live on the ESPN show The Decision.
This year, Sports Illustrated estimated that he is the fourth- highest-paid athlete in America, with a $16-million salary and $30-million in endorsements. This, according to an opinion piece from the pious pilgrims at The Christian Science Monitor, is "sinful piles of money."
That is a very telling turn of phrase: Morality sneaks into discussions of athletes' salaries, where it hardly belongs, because we have a ludicrously sentimental and idealized attachment to "our" sports stars.
Look at Manchester United's Wayne Rooney, who just signed a five-year contract reported to be worth £60-million, making him the highest-paid player in the Premier League in Britain, although he's currently injured, and prior to that was playing about as well as Betty White.
"Capital has become accustomed to saying yes to Talent," Malcolm Gladwell wrote in a recent New Yorker piece about extraordinary salary rises, "even in cases where Talent does not end up being all that Talented."
Manchester United fans have a deeply personal relationship with their striker, who is reckoned to be one of the top five players in the world, and their bitterness at his salary negotiations (and his well-documented fondness for women who are not his wife) was evident in the sign held up at a recent game: "Who's the whore now, Wayne?" A crowd outside his house hurled death threats when it looked like he would defect to archrivals Manchester City.
You don't see similar bile directed at David Letterman and his $40-million-a-year salary, or Nicole Kidman, reckoned by Forbes as the worst value-for-money movie star when her paycheque and box-office grosses are compared. It seems a commonly held belief that when you buy a ticket to a game, you're also buying the right to judge an athlete's choice of house, car and watch.
"Professional teams - football clubs, NBA teams, NHL franchises - are the ultimate passion brand," says Richard Elliott, a professor in the football studies department at England's Southampton Solent University. "Whenever an athlete signs for your club, they become hugely important part of that family."
It's as if the athletes are children and the fans are parents disappointed by the choice of diamond-studded watches and Bentleys. These are often young men from hardscrabble backgrounds who may not make the same lifestyle decisions fans would like - but buying a ticket doesn't mean you also buy their righteousness. As Dr. Elliott points out, these are also singular talents who are responsible for the vast commercial success of their teams and are asking (as anyone selling their labour would) for a proportionate slice of the pie. In British soccer, he says, salaries are rising in sync with club revenues (although some clubs, like Man U, are built on debt.)
"These are very highly skilled workers. It's easy to say, 'They just kick a football, or shoot a basketball, or shoot a puck across the ice.' But the reality is, they are the most significant part of a huge commercial behemoth. Without the players, and the wonderful skills they have, you don't have a product."
Elite athletes get lumped in with bankers as emblems of modern greed. But you can argue that bonuses in the financial sector encourage and reward the kind of reckless behaviour that threatens all our livelihoods. Athletes' salaries just drive up ticket prices. If you don't like them, don't buy the tickets. There's always somebody behind you in line who will.