Bud Selig changed the game

Today is the dawn of a new era. 

For the first time in 22 years, Bud Selig is no longer the commissioner of Major League Baseball.

Selig's exit doesn't mean the sport's going to suddenly change. It's the same game it was three months ago. The same one he spent more than 8,000 days trying to improve. Selig's gone, but his footprint is unmistakable.

There's a generation of baseball fans who have never had fewer than 30 teams. They've never experienced a work stoppage. They've always had wild cards. There's always been six divisions. And there's always been drug testing.

They have Selig to thank for that.

To be fair, there are fans who never experienced the Montreal Expos. Some who stopped loving baseball because of the 1994 strike. Or maybe there are fans who just resent the sport for its negligence during the steroid era. They have Selig to blame for that.

Selig oversaw many watershed moments as the commissioner of baseball. The list is actually staggering.

The game is generating record-breaking revenue, its media arm is the envy of professional sports and more teams than ever are making the playoffs. Happenstance or not, they're all Bud-related.

Yes, part of Selig's legacy benefited from circumstance. Most sports have undergone significant economic and technological change since 1992.

Baseball, they say, is different. 

Selig got trailblazing results without a trailblazing approach. He credits unity and consensus as the building blocks to his success. Without that philosophy, it's doubtful he would have evoked so much positive change, particularly for a pastime tied so heavily to tradition.

For some, Selig is the sport's greatest commissioner. For others, it will take years of reflection before his legacy comes into focus.

Perhaps that title will eventually belong to his successor and longtime right-hand man, Rob Manfred. After all, Manfred deserves as much credit, if not more, for baseball's 21 years of labor peace and industry-standard drug policies.

Selig made many missteps during his reign, even if he always seemed to find his footing.

Maybe he was overpaid. Maybe his braintrust made him look good. Maybe he was just in the right place at the right time. Does it even matter?

More people than ever are watching baseball. More fans than ever are going to games. More teams than ever are in contention.

Replay. Wild cards. Revenue sharing. Drug testing. World Baseball Classic. Labor peace. That's a lot of buzz words for one legacy.

Granted, Selig's critics won't soon forget the bad ones, either, like strike, tie, Congress, Expos and Rose. If there's one thing everyone can agree on, it's that his legacy was a mouthful.

It's difficult to contextualize Selig's contributions because of the unprecedented change the sport endured over the last two decades. More money, more problems. Better technology, bigger decisions. 

But when it's all said and done, there's one word that almost everyone can relate to. Better. Baseball is better today than it was 22 years ago, and Selig deserves credit for that.