Though you'd hardly believe it, Union and Ownership seem to have agreed on three matters in the current labor negotiations.

1. They should move slower than tectonic plates.

2. Kung Pao, always.

3. There will be a worldwide draft.

Hard to put those in order of importance, but in terms of anything that will matter much beyond the point where these guys (gasp!) actually sign an agreement, that third one is a doozy. You don't hear much about the worldwide draft -- players and owners concern themselves with matters of "luxury" considerably more -- but it will happen, as soon as next year. And it will change the face of player development as we now know it.

Baseball was the last of the four major sports to institute its draft of domestic amateur players, in 1965, and until recently it did a reasonably good job of giving all clubs equal access to talent from the United States, and later Canada and Puerto Rico. But players from the Dominican Republic, Venezuela, Cuba and more, who are comprising a large -- and growing -- percentage of major league rosters, are still signed on the open market, with large-revenue clubs such as the Yankees, Braves and others taking their pick of the top talent.

It's important to note that the effects aren't as drastic as those on the more visible major league free-agent front. Many of the most sought-after players, most just 16 and with skills rawer than tuna tartare, don't wind up making much of a big league impact anyway. Let's just say that the names of Jose Pett, Glenn Williams and Omar Moreno Jr., all of whom caused bidding wars in the 1990s and were bought for record sums by large-revenue teams, have gone down in history as laughably overhyped busts and nothing more. Most of today's Latin-American stars (Sammy Sosa, Vladimir Guerrero, etc.) were signed with little fanfare and for less money -- in an environment where wits can indeed trump wherewithal.

But there can be no argument that small-revenue clubs are getting increasingly priced out of a market that is only growing in importance. Hence the feeling among many executives that it's time to put all players under the same umbrella. They won't tell you that on the record anymore -- with the current gag order on speaking about anything involving the Basic Agreement, most just chuckle, "I don't have a million dollars" -- but before that decree, most were for it, and vocally.

"We've needed it for a long time, and I can't wait till it gets here," Athletics general manager Billy Beane said a year and a half ago. "I remember when El Duque was trying out in Costa Rica. I said to (then-A's scouting director) Grady Fuson, 'So what are you hearing? Who's gonna be down there? Is Atlanta and New York gonna be down there?' He said yeah. So I go, 'Then there's no sense in even spending two grand for a plane flight down there. Because A, if he's any good, we can't afford him. And if we can afford him, that means he's not any good.' "

Implementing a worldwide draft that puts all teams on equal footing remains somewhat fanciful. First, the regular June draft, which begins this year on June 4, ain't exactly working at the moment anyway -- the best picks routinely demand so much money that shivering small-revenue teams pass on them, leaving them to fall to the richer clubs. Second, the environments are barely comparable: Players who go through the existing draft are aged 18-22, developed through high schools and colleges, with information about them well known; Latin American players spend years at individual major league club academies where even their ages, mostly 14-16, are hopelessly murky.

The current system, however much it leaves small-market teams out of the running for seven-figure players, does produce talent cheaply. For about $1 million a year, less than half of the going bonus rate for just one first-round amateur draft pick, teams' academies sign teenaged players, groom them and send the best to the United States as full-fledged minor leaguers. The presence of Latin American players on major league rosters has doubled from 13 percent to 26 since 1990; considering that nearly 50 percent of minor leaguers were born outside the 50 United States, that number will only grow.

Monkeying with that system could prove costly. One case in point is Puerto Rico, which developed top prospects such as the Alomar brothers, Ivan Rodriguez and Juan Gonzalez in the late '80s. It has produced far less talent since 1989, when its players were put into the draft and since have to wait until age 18 to be signed, hurting their development. And signing unknowns at age 16 saves money, as Sandy Alderson (now MLB's Executive Vice President of Baseball Operations) described several years ago: "One of the advantages you have overseas in signing a 16-year-old player is that you don't know what that player is going to be at age 20," Alderson said. "And therefore, the player doesn't cost you what he would cost at age 20 because both he and everyone else know what his talents are.

"Now, that's a part of the system that we don't necessarily want to promote. But that's why it exists. Not because you want to sign a player for less money, but you want to be able to sign a player who turns out to be Vladimir Guerrero. If Montreal tried to sign Vladimir Guerrero at age 20, they wouldn't be able to do so. They got lucky. They know it, everybody knows it."

Some executives worry that should MLB fold such players into the draft, teams wouldn't invest the millions of dollars they currently do on academies because there's no sense in developing a player to get drafted by another club. How, then, would the players hone their skills? Many scouts also prefer the eat-what-you-catch competition fostered by the open market. And there's some question as to how high these players would go, anyway, because few at age 16 show the same polish and potential as draftees five years older.

Other detractors cite the logistical nightmares a worldwide draft would bring. One barely-known tidbit is that in 1985 Major League Baseball actually did hold a draft of Dominican players, a process never tried before and never since. Questions flew as to which players were eligible. Team officials misunderstood names. Several prospects, due to confusion over their father's and mother's surnames, were drafted by more than one club. "It was chaos," one executive recalls. "It was administrative chaos."

Recognizing such concerns, MLB recently set up an office in the Dominican Republic to assess and then begin to implement procedures to streamline the process. (For instance, names of potential draftees might have to be registered by that office so their eligibility can be confirmed.) Yet all the other hurdles remain.

Should the players still be eligible at 16? Should they wait until age 18, the same as those from the United States? Having players from around the world treated the same is an interesting issue, particularly for the players union. First, it's hard to tell an American prospect that he doesn't have the same rights (to listen to offers from many clubs and ultimately choose one) as a player from Latin America. Then again, to curb the rights of international players and fold them into a draft you have described as draconian is somewhat disengenuous, too.

"There is an inherent inequity in saying to someone, 'Because you were born in Texas, you have less rights than if you were born in Cuba or the Dominican Republic,' " union second-in-command Gene Orza once said. "But somebody has to remember that these are actual human beings, with mothers and fathers and grandfathers and grandmothers and sisters and brothers, who have a salable commodity: the ability to play a very popular sport. And simply to say to them, 'Guess what, you're not part of this equation, because this big union and these big employers all got together and stuck it to you,' is simply a question of fairness in my mind. That's why we have to tread very carefully."

Sources say that the union is closer than ever to signing off on the concept, though, so a worldwide draft seems all but inevitable. Will it work well or blow up in baseball's face? Like the youngsters to be drafted, there's no way to know, and we won't for years and years.

Alan Schwarz is the Senior Writer of Baseball America magazine and a regular contributor to ESPN.com.