The NBA Lockout

At 12:01 am of July 1, the stalemate between NBA players and owners officially commenced. Both sides presented their rituals and offerings on the altar of greed with neither party willing to extinguish their votive candles.

So just in case you’ve been comatose the past week and have just rediscovered the living daylights, the lockout practically declares that all players, from the superstars to the supertrash do not exist. The league has allowed itself to admit that NBA players have gone to their peaceful rest.

Rules have been laid down and they’re strict. Teams are not permitted to have contact with players, no matter how remote or subtle, relatives, friends and acquaintances included. Stray from this rule and you risk a 1 million dollar fine. This is greed going way too far.

Players likewise are forbidden to use team facilities or enjoy the luxuries and services afforded to them. Say you slipped at home and sprained your foot, you can’t visit your team doctor and have it fixed. Your best option is to go to a hilot. You can’t also ask a team employee to fix you and your friends a good spot on a swanky resto else you pay the $1 million fine.

If by some chance a player meets a team official or employee somewhere, chances are the concerned team guy will automatically delete that player from his memory and pretend that the approaching telephone pole disguised as an athlete is a viral infection and has to be quickly avoided.

The bone of contention on this mess is the Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA) and the Basketball Related Income (BRI).

The CBA is where the salary cap is defined. The cap limits the amount a team can spend on a player’s contract, giving other teams equal chances on acquiring prospective talents. There is the soft cap and the hard cap. The former allows the team to exceed the cap under specific circumstances while the latter can’t be exceeded for whatever reason. CBA negotiations will tackle ridiculous contracts given to players who are better off in leagues somewhere. Read Luke Walton, Eddy Curry, Gilbert Arenas and other similar species. 

The BRI, as stated in the CBA, gives 57% to the players from regular season and playoff gate receipts, exhibition games, broadcasting rights (foreign and domestic), parking, All-Star Games, sponsorships, NBA entertainment and special events.

The same percentages is taken from proceeds on team promotions, summer camps, mascot and dance team appearances, non-NBA basketball tournaments and beverage sale rights.

40% of proceeds from arena signages and luxury suites are also allotted for the players and as far as luxury suites are concerned, corporate types spend up to seven figures a season for the privilege. So who says NBA players are underpaid?

David Stern represents the NBA while Billy Hunter stands for the players. Stern is the cold-blooded and overpaid stooge of the owners who has made life hard for the players. Hunter is a former US district attorney who has sent to jail among others, some members of the outlawed Hell’s Angels biker group.

Let’s face it. Stern and the team owners is not the NBA. It’s the players and the fans who made the NBA what it is today. Fans don’t go to games and watch who’s paying for the team, they watch their favourite athletes make the plays that make the nightly TV highlights.

Team owners are self-made billionaires who just wanted to be popular and had extra money to squander so they formed a professional team.   Mark Cuban was just another obscure and unknown dot.com billionaire until his Dallas Mavericks made him notoriously famous.   It’s the Kobes, LeBrons, Dirks, Jeters, A-Rods, Messis and Ronaldos who make the games worth watching.   Not the owners or the Sterns of the sporting world.

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Last Sunday, July 3 was a geriatric gathering of old mates, literally and figuratively, from Don Bosco Technical High School of years back. It was nice to be with classmates from a bygone era where taxi fare from Punta Princesa to Liloan costs P14.00 and monthly tuition is P36.00 including miscellaneous fees. Where sinumbagay at the sapa along the school almost always settle things. I had my share and damn, they were painful.

There were quite a number of us last Sunday and mentioning everyone would abuse my allotted space. It was fun being with you guys and here’s looking forward to another “bottle” plan. Ardua Non Timeo!

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