The Cream Team is gathering this week to prepare to haul in the gold. Meanwhile, Atlanta will miss out on a real tournament in a sport where the world’s finest players aren’t all on one team. Think baseball: Japan’s Hideo Nomo pitching to Larry Walker of Canada, Venezuela’s Omar Vizquel sliding into Puerto Rico’s Roberto Alomar at second base, the U.S.A.’s own charming Albert Belle taking out rows of international photographers in the press box. They’re all all-stars from the major leagues here (where 26 percent of the players are foreign born) and don’t even include the top stars from, say, the Japanese big leagues. A baseball dream team from the United States (as well as a number of Latin American and Asian countries) would be a competitive and licensing bonanza. So why isn’t there one?

Blame Olympic politics first. The International Olympic Committee desperately wants professionals to be eligible for all sports, baseball included. It makes for better TV ratings and fatter coffers. Basketball and hockey are already in; the National Hockey League will suspend its 1997-98 season for several weeks to allow players to compete at the Nagano Winter Games. But the International Baseball Asso- ciation, which utimately controls eligibili- ty, has so far permitted only amateur participation (although even amateurs have found ways of being paid to play). Two years ago the IBA failed by three votes to change its amateurs-only policy. The Latin American and Asian blocs didn’t want to see their teams overshadowed by U.S. professionals (in basketball, the smaller countries actually wanted American pros in the Games so their own players could bask in the same TV lights). Cuba won the baseball gold in 1992, and the United States finished fourth. This September, the IBA votes again and is widely expected to change course – under the tacit threat that the IOC might eliminate baseball altogether from the Olympics if the pros aren’t allowed in.

That would lead to a logistical conundrum. The 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney take place in late September, which of course is a terrible time for baseball pros to leave the United States. That’s when the pennant races conclude, with the playoffs and World Series beginning in October. The majors couldn’t very well suspend the season at such a moment, the way hockey will two years from now. Maybe begin the season a month earlier, in March? That would work only if the players wore snowshoes. Limit the number of stars a team could send to Sydney? That would defeat the goal of showcasing the top talent, and would be un- fair to players on teams like the Los Angeles Dodgers, which have many foreigners. Maybe send players from clubs already out of contention. Hardly a Dream Team.

There would also be questions about dividing licensing dollars, and perhaps a few owners would be concerned Olympic play might supplant the prestige of the World Series. At the same time, increased international exposure for baseball would open up new revenue sources – an annual U.S.-Japan series or even a larger World Cup format, as in soccer.

Will the players’ union and baseball management figure out a solution? Well, it’s been four years since they had a collective-bargaining deal. There’s always 2004. By then, major-league baseball may even have a commissioner.