The Official NBA Collective Bargaining Thread vol Phased in Hard Cap

Originally Posted by PMatic

More flexible amnesty clause on way?

We’ve known since the spring that a new amnesty clause was coming in the NBA.

But the 2011 version is going to be different.

Very different, in fact, from its 2005 predecessor.

In ‘05, teams received only luxury-tax relief on amnesty players. In 2011, according to sources close to the negotiations, 75 percent of a player’s contract value will not count against the salary cap when shed via amnesty.

And there could be more wrinkles.

Sources say that there’s a determined push led by San Antonio Spurs owner Peter Holt to allow teams to have at least two years to decide whether or not to amnesty one player, with multiple sources telling ESPN.com this week that they believe the concept -- with restrictions that are still being haggled over -- has indeed won sufficient support to be included in the new labor deal.

Six years ago, teams had only two weeks to decide whether to use the amnesty clause or lose it forever. Now? There is a growing likelihood that teams will be able to “save
 
Originally Posted by PMatic

More flexible amnesty clause on way?

We’ve known since the spring that a new amnesty clause was coming in the NBA.

But the 2011 version is going to be different.

Very different, in fact, from its 2005 predecessor.

In ‘05, teams received only luxury-tax relief on amnesty players. In 2011, according to sources close to the negotiations, 75 percent of a player’s contract value will not count against the salary cap when shed via amnesty.

And there could be more wrinkles.

Sources say that there’s a determined push led by San Antonio Spurs owner Peter Holt to allow teams to have at least two years to decide whether or not to amnesty one player, with multiple sources telling ESPN.com this week that they believe the concept -- with restrictions that are still being haggled over -- has indeed won sufficient support to be included in the new labor deal.

Six years ago, teams had only two weeks to decide whether to use the amnesty clause or lose it forever. Now? There is a growing likelihood that teams will be able to “save
 
Originally Posted by xsalvioutlawx

Originally Posted by Gottips3

Originally Posted by lawdog1

The story isn't about whether or Nash will actually end up with the Heat, its about the fact that LeBron would even suggest it.  It just contributes to the perception that he's not the same type of competitor as guys like Jordan, Bird and Magic and even Kobe.  At least, that's what I thought we were talking about.   

  
Bron doesnt need to be them... and kobe needs to be taken out, because first off people would love to play in LA, and he did ask for Gasol. also dont forget Kobe actually wanted to LEAVE LA, OH BUT JORDAN would NEVER TO DO THAT THO!!!...Oh wait..
If bron wants to play with nash let him, if he feels he will benifit from it. If they can pull it off let em do it.

  
*looks at avatar*
You'd suck Lebron off if he told you it would better his chances of winning a title, real talk.
tired.gif
...smh
Yea so I guess you don't see Kobe there either...smh...wow, people these days
 
Originally Posted by xsalvioutlawx

Originally Posted by Gottips3

Originally Posted by lawdog1

The story isn't about whether or Nash will actually end up with the Heat, its about the fact that LeBron would even suggest it.  It just contributes to the perception that he's not the same type of competitor as guys like Jordan, Bird and Magic and even Kobe.  At least, that's what I thought we were talking about.   

  
Bron doesnt need to be them... and kobe needs to be taken out, because first off people would love to play in LA, and he did ask for Gasol. also dont forget Kobe actually wanted to LEAVE LA, OH BUT JORDAN would NEVER TO DO THAT THO!!!...Oh wait..
If bron wants to play with nash let him, if he feels he will benifit from it. If they can pull it off let em do it.

  
*looks at avatar*
You'd suck Lebron off if he told you it would better his chances of winning a title, real talk.
tired.gif
...smh
Yea so I guess you don't see Kobe there either...smh...wow, people these days
 
Originally Posted by Beware The Underdog

AIRJORDAN JB23 wrote:
Nash on Miami would be a great fit.

  
Explain.

Great passing PG with 3 scorers in Bron, Wade, & Bosh. With scorers like that, a pass first PG would be a great fit. Not only that, but with a passer like Nash? That'd be a good scenario for them. Run the pick & role with Bosh in the half & on the break with Wade & Bron
sick.gif


Plus, having a PG like Nash takes less pressure off of Bron & Wade to create their own shots... That falls on Nash & he's proven to be able to do that in the past. Now those two don't have to worry about having a mix between getting their own & creating for each other & their teammates. Bringing Nash in would help chemistry...

The only thing holding them back in the long term would be age... But if they're win now I don't see that being an issue.

All this hypothetically speaking, of course.
laugh.gif
 
Originally Posted by Beware The Underdog

AIRJORDAN JB23 wrote:
Nash on Miami would be a great fit.

  
Explain.

Great passing PG with 3 scorers in Bron, Wade, & Bosh. With scorers like that, a pass first PG would be a great fit. Not only that, but with a passer like Nash? That'd be a good scenario for them. Run the pick & role with Bosh in the half & on the break with Wade & Bron
sick.gif


Plus, having a PG like Nash takes less pressure off of Bron & Wade to create their own shots... That falls on Nash & he's proven to be able to do that in the past. Now those two don't have to worry about having a mix between getting their own & creating for each other & their teammates. Bringing Nash in would help chemistry...

The only thing holding them back in the long term would be age... But if they're win now I don't see that being an issue.

All this hypothetically speaking, of course.
laugh.gif
 
This thread jumped about ten pages since I lasted checked.

I thought some serious progress was made but the majority of  it is just dudes arguing about some meaningless tweet from LeBron.
30t6p3b.gif


Looks like some progress is being made, but I'm not getting my hopes up until something if formally announced.
 
This thread jumped about ten pages since I lasted checked.

I thought some serious progress was made but the majority of  it is just dudes arguing about some meaningless tweet from LeBron.
30t6p3b.gif


Looks like some progress is being made, but I'm not getting my hopes up until something if formally announced.
 
i was very hyped about having a full season and felt optimistic about it and now i read more games are being cancelled....looks like for sure we arent having 82 games
 
i was very hyped about having a full season and felt optimistic about it and now i read more games are being cancelled....looks like for sure we arent having 82 games
 
On the subject of a 82 game schedule;
Why is there an 82-game schedule?

Nobody can really tell you -- not the NBA scheduler, those who work in the NBA offices in New York, nor historians of the game.

Stuck on 82
NBA teams played 80 games each beginning in 1961-62. The league added a game in 1966-67, bringing the total to 81, then ultimately settled on 82 games for the 1967-68 season, when the San Diego Rockets and Seattle SuperSonics joined the league. Now a 12-team league, the NBA had each team play its conference rivals eight times and its inter-conference foes seven times. As the league continued to expand, the NBA maintained its 82-game schedule -- the only exception being the 1998-99 season, when a lockout produced an abbreviated -- and compressed -- 50-game schedule.

Too often, we allow tradition to govern the way we do things, and that holds true in the NBA. Rules and laws that were drawn up ages ago become entrenched and are rarely reexamined to see if they're working to their intended effect or whether we can improve upon them.

A couple of weeks ago in the New York Times, Richard Sandomir made the case for a shortened NBA schedule, noting that fewer games might save some wear and tear on NBA players. He consults with Jeff Van Gundy (who advocates for fewer games, but over the same duration) and Bill Simmons, who each support trimming a handful of games from the NBA schedule, while David Thorpe counters not so fast. At TrueHoop last week, J.A. Adande filed a concurring opinion in support of a 76-game schedule.

The wear-and-tear argument for fewer games certainly has merit, but the best reason to play fewer games is to create more compelling basketball, an NBA where there are more meaningful games and a greater number of fans who make appointments to watch.

March Madness and the NFL
Eighteen months ago, CBS and TNT agreed to pay the NCAA $10.8 billion for the rights to broadcast the 67 games that compose March Madness over a span of 14 years. That's more than $771 per year. Throw in the digital rights (including the ingenious boss button) and that figure crosses $11 billion.

The NBA currently receives approximately $930 million deal from its broadcast partners, ESPN/ABC and TNT, in a deal that will run through the 2015-16 season. The two networks combine to televise 142 regular-season games. TNT gets the All-Star Game and a slew of playoff games, while ABC airs The Finals and a handful of weekend postseason games.

In other words, the NCAA sells the 11 broadcast dates of March Madness for just a smidgen less per year than the NBA earns for the rights to eight months of NBA basketball. It's important to note that March Madness has a lot of things going for it. Seemingly every office in America hosts a bracket pool, and the sudden-death nature of the tournament produces a level of drama that's tough to replicate in any sport.

The NFL, whose broadcast contracts are staggering, provides another measuring stick. Pro football is the ultimate appointment-viewing sport in North America and rakes in an obscene amount of money. ESPN pays $1.8 billion per season for the rights to Monday Night Football, streaming rights, expanded highlight packages and the draft. That's nearly twice what the NBA earns from its partners for nearly its entire national package, and doesn't include the enormous amount of cash the league generates from Sunday broadcasts on Fox, CBS and NBC. The NBA, of course, generates significant revenue from local television rights, though few of those numbers are publicly available -- and few of those deals likely come close to the $150 million per season the Lakers will reportedly earn from their new agreement with Time Warner.

Finding the sweet spot
How can the NBA tap into some of magic of the NCAA tournament or the NFL?

Many skeptics insist that the NBA product just isn't as telegenic or engaging as March Madness or the NFL. NBA enthusiasts would argue that's not the case -- it's just that the league hasn't cracked the code on how to translate all the virtues of the pro game into something people really, really, really want to watch, even in January.

If the NCAA and NFL have taught us one thing, it's that scarcity matters. Simply put, the fewer the games, the more eventful they feel. When games have greater consequences, they're imbued with a special brand of relevance. We congregate with friends, families and sometimes people we merely tolerate to create a community gathering around a game.

But how much does scarcity matter? How would we determine the ideal length of the NBA schedule?

In Economics 101, students learn about the utility or indifference curve, and how to find the sweet spot on the graph where a product's availability matches market demand.

Right now, there are 82 games. Why? Because it's been that way for decades. But "been that way for decades" -- or tradition -- is generally a lousy way to make decisions or to determine utility. Your local grocery doesn't buy inventory for the frozen food aisle based on purchasing and sales figures from 1972. The smart retailer constantly evaluates and re-evaluates consumer demand. People's habits change and a product that was a good loss leader 10 years ago might not be one now.

If we assume that 82 games is too many to achieve our goal of increasing interest, it's safe to say that 16 games are too few. A 76-game schedule would eliminate many of the "schedule losses" that come when exhausted teams roll into a far-off city at the tail end of a road trip, but what about something more radical -- say a 44-game schedule:

Let's play 44
An NBA team would play twice a week:
  • One mid-week game: National doubleheaders on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with the remaining 22 teams playing on Wednesday night -- which would also feature a the current nationally televised double-header, with the remaining 18 teams playing on local television outlets. Mondays and Fridays are essentially travel days.
  • One weekend game: Teams playing on Saturday and Sunday. Following the NFL season, the NBA's Sunday schedule would feature a quintuple-header, with the remaining teams playing on Saturday.
Teams would play conference rivals twice -- home and away -- and inter-conference opponents just once. Since that equals an awkwardly-numbered 43 games, the extra contest would be an additional matchup with an inter-conference opponent. The team that finished No. 1 the previous season in the Western Conference would play its counterpart in the East a second time; No. 2 would play No. 2, etc. This doesn't offer the balancing act the NFL performs to give lesser teams an easier schedule while planting land mines for the juggernauts, but it's something.

Take into account the All-Star break and you have a 23-week season that would extend from approximately Nov. 1 through the first week in April, virtually identical to what we have now.

In the current scheme, it's difficult to answer the question, "When does your NBA team play?"

Tuesdays? Sometimes. Every other day? Occasionally it works out that way. Sundays? It depends.

A twice-a-week format (once during the week/once over the weekend) would provide the NBA with the comfy consistency we see in the NFL schedule (once a week) and Major League Baseball schedule (every day). In the process, the NBA would have at least 88 nationally televised dates prior to the postseason -- dates that feature games of far greater magnitude. Inter-conference matchups become real novelties. The days of the dreaded second-night-of-a-back-to-back would be history.

Revenue costs up front, but a better product
Clearly, a 44-game schedule wouldn't come without a cost. The hit would be especially hard for teams like the Lakers, Knicks and Celtics who have lucrative television deals. Both local broadcast revenues and gate receipts (and associated game-night revenue) would be drastically reduced, but some of that revenue would be recaptured with increased ticket prices tighter and healthier national ratings right off the bat.

That's still a tough sell to the owners -- and it might be a tougher sell to the players if fewer games meant smaller paychecks, even if less wear-and-tear could translate into longer, healthier careers. And try telling a small-market owner that the Lakers or Heat will appear in their building only once every other year.

But fewer games would introduce the kind of randomness that makes the NCAA Tournament and the NFL so tantalizing. When you play fewer games with higher stakes, a couple of bounces here and there over the course of a season can vault Cinderella to the ball. A greater number of teams would hang around the playoff chase later into the season. For a league that insists an NFL-like "competitive balance" is a priority, a shorter schedule that encourages parity is the place to start.

In an era when the league's fortunes are driven by broadcast revenues, a 44-game schedule during which rested athletes are playing their best basketball in front of more vested fans would create a superior product the NBA could televise to a global audience with more capacity than ever to tune in. A nod toward a made-for-broadcast schedule would go a long way toward evenly distributing the NBA's dominant income stream, because local television rights would be secondary to the global reach of a superior product.

The Lakers aren't playing the majority of their games for the Los Angeles and San Diego markets at 7:30 p.m. Pacific Standard Time on a weeknight. Instead, they're playing half their games (each of which is twice as meaningful) as the showcase event at 12:30 p.m. Pacific, 3:30 p.m. Eastern and 8:30 p.m. Greenwich Mean Time on a Saturday or Sunday. Everyone watches, and everyone profits. If the NBA wants that NFL feel -- "competitive balance" driven by non-local broadcast revenue -- this is a far better blueprint than redistribution.

Would 44 games enhance fan interest in the NBA? If so, would that interest translate into greater revenues that would compensate for fewer games? We simply can't say and it's virtually impossible to conduct an experiment.

For all we know, the best way to maximize profits for the NBA, its owners, players, coaches landlords and ushers might be to increase the number of games to 94 -- start in mid-October and host Game 7 of the Finals the weekend before the Major League All-Star Game. More games equal more money, yes?

Ninety-four is just an arbitrary number. And so is 44.

But so is 82.
Link

Edit:


@MickyArison
Micky Arison Honestly u r barking at the wrong owner. RT @GreedyNBAstards:guess what? Fans provide all the money you're fighting overyou greedy %!% pigs
Oct 29 via UberSocial for BlackBerryFavoriteRetweetReply

@MickyArison
Micky Arison Exactlly RT @FireAndyReidNow: i know its not ur faul at this point, its become childsplay. Grown men making stupid decisions over money.
Oct 29 via UberSocial for BlackBerryFavoriteRetweetReply

@MickyArison
Micky Arison Now u r making some sense RT @GreedyNBAstards: Then can you bark at the other owners? This is RIDICULOUS!!!"
Oct 29 via UberSocial for BlackBerryFavoriteRetweetReply

laugh.gif
 
On the subject of a 82 game schedule;
Why is there an 82-game schedule?

Nobody can really tell you -- not the NBA scheduler, those who work in the NBA offices in New York, nor historians of the game.

Stuck on 82
NBA teams played 80 games each beginning in 1961-62. The league added a game in 1966-67, bringing the total to 81, then ultimately settled on 82 games for the 1967-68 season, when the San Diego Rockets and Seattle SuperSonics joined the league. Now a 12-team league, the NBA had each team play its conference rivals eight times and its inter-conference foes seven times. As the league continued to expand, the NBA maintained its 82-game schedule -- the only exception being the 1998-99 season, when a lockout produced an abbreviated -- and compressed -- 50-game schedule.

Too often, we allow tradition to govern the way we do things, and that holds true in the NBA. Rules and laws that were drawn up ages ago become entrenched and are rarely reexamined to see if they're working to their intended effect or whether we can improve upon them.

A couple of weeks ago in the New York Times, Richard Sandomir made the case for a shortened NBA schedule, noting that fewer games might save some wear and tear on NBA players. He consults with Jeff Van Gundy (who advocates for fewer games, but over the same duration) and Bill Simmons, who each support trimming a handful of games from the NBA schedule, while David Thorpe counters not so fast. At TrueHoop last week, J.A. Adande filed a concurring opinion in support of a 76-game schedule.

The wear-and-tear argument for fewer games certainly has merit, but the best reason to play fewer games is to create more compelling basketball, an NBA where there are more meaningful games and a greater number of fans who make appointments to watch.

March Madness and the NFL
Eighteen months ago, CBS and TNT agreed to pay the NCAA $10.8 billion for the rights to broadcast the 67 games that compose March Madness over a span of 14 years. That's more than $771 per year. Throw in the digital rights (including the ingenious boss button) and that figure crosses $11 billion.

The NBA currently receives approximately $930 million deal from its broadcast partners, ESPN/ABC and TNT, in a deal that will run through the 2015-16 season. The two networks combine to televise 142 regular-season games. TNT gets the All-Star Game and a slew of playoff games, while ABC airs The Finals and a handful of weekend postseason games.

In other words, the NCAA sells the 11 broadcast dates of March Madness for just a smidgen less per year than the NBA earns for the rights to eight months of NBA basketball. It's important to note that March Madness has a lot of things going for it. Seemingly every office in America hosts a bracket pool, and the sudden-death nature of the tournament produces a level of drama that's tough to replicate in any sport.

The NFL, whose broadcast contracts are staggering, provides another measuring stick. Pro football is the ultimate appointment-viewing sport in North America and rakes in an obscene amount of money. ESPN pays $1.8 billion per season for the rights to Monday Night Football, streaming rights, expanded highlight packages and the draft. That's nearly twice what the NBA earns from its partners for nearly its entire national package, and doesn't include the enormous amount of cash the league generates from Sunday broadcasts on Fox, CBS and NBC. The NBA, of course, generates significant revenue from local television rights, though few of those numbers are publicly available -- and few of those deals likely come close to the $150 million per season the Lakers will reportedly earn from their new agreement with Time Warner.

Finding the sweet spot
How can the NBA tap into some of magic of the NCAA tournament or the NFL?

Many skeptics insist that the NBA product just isn't as telegenic or engaging as March Madness or the NFL. NBA enthusiasts would argue that's not the case -- it's just that the league hasn't cracked the code on how to translate all the virtues of the pro game into something people really, really, really want to watch, even in January.

If the NCAA and NFL have taught us one thing, it's that scarcity matters. Simply put, the fewer the games, the more eventful they feel. When games have greater consequences, they're imbued with a special brand of relevance. We congregate with friends, families and sometimes people we merely tolerate to create a community gathering around a game.

But how much does scarcity matter? How would we determine the ideal length of the NBA schedule?

In Economics 101, students learn about the utility or indifference curve, and how to find the sweet spot on the graph where a product's availability matches market demand.

Right now, there are 82 games. Why? Because it's been that way for decades. But "been that way for decades" -- or tradition -- is generally a lousy way to make decisions or to determine utility. Your local grocery doesn't buy inventory for the frozen food aisle based on purchasing and sales figures from 1972. The smart retailer constantly evaluates and re-evaluates consumer demand. People's habits change and a product that was a good loss leader 10 years ago might not be one now.

If we assume that 82 games is too many to achieve our goal of increasing interest, it's safe to say that 16 games are too few. A 76-game schedule would eliminate many of the "schedule losses" that come when exhausted teams roll into a far-off city at the tail end of a road trip, but what about something more radical -- say a 44-game schedule:

Let's play 44
An NBA team would play twice a week:
  • One mid-week game: National doubleheaders on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with the remaining 22 teams playing on Wednesday night -- which would also feature a the current nationally televised double-header, with the remaining 18 teams playing on local television outlets. Mondays and Fridays are essentially travel days.
  • One weekend game: Teams playing on Saturday and Sunday. Following the NFL season, the NBA's Sunday schedule would feature a quintuple-header, with the remaining teams playing on Saturday.
Teams would play conference rivals twice -- home and away -- and inter-conference opponents just once. Since that equals an awkwardly-numbered 43 games, the extra contest would be an additional matchup with an inter-conference opponent. The team that finished No. 1 the previous season in the Western Conference would play its counterpart in the East a second time; No. 2 would play No. 2, etc. This doesn't offer the balancing act the NFL performs to give lesser teams an easier schedule while planting land mines for the juggernauts, but it's something.

Take into account the All-Star break and you have a 23-week season that would extend from approximately Nov. 1 through the first week in April, virtually identical to what we have now.

In the current scheme, it's difficult to answer the question, "When does your NBA team play?"

Tuesdays? Sometimes. Every other day? Occasionally it works out that way. Sundays? It depends.

A twice-a-week format (once during the week/once over the weekend) would provide the NBA with the comfy consistency we see in the NFL schedule (once a week) and Major League Baseball schedule (every day). In the process, the NBA would have at least 88 nationally televised dates prior to the postseason -- dates that feature games of far greater magnitude. Inter-conference matchups become real novelties. The days of the dreaded second-night-of-a-back-to-back would be history.

Revenue costs up front, but a better product
Clearly, a 44-game schedule wouldn't come without a cost. The hit would be especially hard for teams like the Lakers, Knicks and Celtics who have lucrative television deals. Both local broadcast revenues and gate receipts (and associated game-night revenue) would be drastically reduced, but some of that revenue would be recaptured with increased ticket prices tighter and healthier national ratings right off the bat.

That's still a tough sell to the owners -- and it might be a tougher sell to the players if fewer games meant smaller paychecks, even if less wear-and-tear could translate into longer, healthier careers. And try telling a small-market owner that the Lakers or Heat will appear in their building only once every other year.

But fewer games would introduce the kind of randomness that makes the NCAA Tournament and the NFL so tantalizing. When you play fewer games with higher stakes, a couple of bounces here and there over the course of a season can vault Cinderella to the ball. A greater number of teams would hang around the playoff chase later into the season. For a league that insists an NFL-like "competitive balance" is a priority, a shorter schedule that encourages parity is the place to start.

In an era when the league's fortunes are driven by broadcast revenues, a 44-game schedule during which rested athletes are playing their best basketball in front of more vested fans would create a superior product the NBA could televise to a global audience with more capacity than ever to tune in. A nod toward a made-for-broadcast schedule would go a long way toward evenly distributing the NBA's dominant income stream, because local television rights would be secondary to the global reach of a superior product.

The Lakers aren't playing the majority of their games for the Los Angeles and San Diego markets at 7:30 p.m. Pacific Standard Time on a weeknight. Instead, they're playing half their games (each of which is twice as meaningful) as the showcase event at 12:30 p.m. Pacific, 3:30 p.m. Eastern and 8:30 p.m. Greenwich Mean Time on a Saturday or Sunday. Everyone watches, and everyone profits. If the NBA wants that NFL feel -- "competitive balance" driven by non-local broadcast revenue -- this is a far better blueprint than redistribution.

Would 44 games enhance fan interest in the NBA? If so, would that interest translate into greater revenues that would compensate for fewer games? We simply can't say and it's virtually impossible to conduct an experiment.

For all we know, the best way to maximize profits for the NBA, its owners, players, coaches landlords and ushers might be to increase the number of games to 94 -- start in mid-October and host Game 7 of the Finals the weekend before the Major League All-Star Game. More games equal more money, yes?

Ninety-four is just an arbitrary number. And so is 44.

But so is 82.
Link

Edit:


@MickyArison
Micky Arison Honestly u r barking at the wrong owner. RT @GreedyNBAstards:guess what? Fans provide all the money you're fighting overyou greedy %!% pigs
Oct 29 via UberSocial for BlackBerryFavoriteRetweetReply

@MickyArison
Micky Arison Exactlly RT @FireAndyReidNow: i know its not ur faul at this point, its become childsplay. Grown men making stupid decisions over money.
Oct 29 via UberSocial for BlackBerryFavoriteRetweetReply

@MickyArison
Micky Arison Now u r making some sense RT @GreedyNBAstards: Then can you bark at the other owners? This is RIDICULOUS!!!"
Oct 29 via UberSocial for BlackBerryFavoriteRetweetReply

laugh.gif
 
if they fix the playoff schedule, we can have 82 games....they always have the weirdest schedules during that time with like 3 days between games and then weeks before series starts....if they tweak that im sure they can savor some of the games...but do they want to do that is the question
 
if they fix the playoff schedule, we can have 82 games....they always have the weirdest schedules during that time with like 3 days between games and then weeks before series starts....if they tweak that im sure they can savor some of the games...but do they want to do that is the question
 
^That article got it all wrong.  Instead of shortening the regular season it would be better to shorten the playoffs. 

That would add some excitement especially for underdog fans. 

The average fan is not going to care about the regular season no matter what you do with it.
 
^That article got it all wrong.  Instead of shortening the regular season it would be better to shorten the playoffs. 

That would add some excitement especially for underdog fans. 

The average fan is not going to care about the regular season no matter what you do with it.
 
Season takes another hit as owners, players refuse to close deal

Here we are at the next foolish, scripted blowup of the NBA labor talks. See you in a few days, in the next hotel lobby taken over by grumpy, disaffected reporters and various other characters of questionable moral fiber.
Just when this was starting to get fun, just when it was starting to get done, we all got snookered.

That was the word Billy Hunter used Friday after negotiations to end the 120-day lockout went kablooey for the second time in a week and third time this month. That was what Hunter said David Stern did to him when the commissioner said Thursday night he was going into Friday's seemingly promising bargaining session "ready to negotiate everything."


Only he wasn't. Neither was Hunter. The two men who were supposed to be in position to finally close this deal did not have the authority to do so.

That's the only logical explanation when failing to get a deal this weekend results in approximately $800 million of economic carnage -- the total cost to both sides of a month of lost games -- when the distance between the two sides is $80 million.

"Absurdity," one person on the management side of the NBA business said Friday night.

Oh, no. It's worse than that. Altogether now: It's *#$-hattery.

But you knew that already.

I'd brought two bananas to Friday's bargaining session -- mostly for sustenance during these mentally debilitating hours spent waiting for grown men to finish staring at each other, but also as props. You may recall the banana-in-the-tailpipe column in which I detailed the blowout victory the owners were seeking in these negotiations. On Friday, we all fell for the banana in the tailpipe again. And we didn't even have a late supper -- shrimp salad sandwiches, say -- to show for it.

On top of that, I left my grocery bag with the bananas in the lobby, and by the time the predictable, double-talk-laden news conferences were over, two perfectly good bananas were gone. The latest casualties of the dumbest lockout ever.

My prediction, if you still want to hear it, is that there will be conversations over the weekend and another meeting next week to take another stab at this. There's too much to lose; too much at stake. That's what happened the last time things blew up, sending federal mediator George Cohen running for cover. That's what will happen again. More than enough of the deal has been negotiated already so that the next meeting really only requires two people: Stern and Hunter.

But those two people must have the authority to close the deal. On Friday, neither had it.

That's the only way it could possibly make sense to squander a chance to recoup two weeks of canceled games (worth about $400 million to the owners and players) and lose two weeks more (for a total of $800 million) by refusing to even attempt to close a two-point gap in basketball-related income (BRI).

Think of it another way: If Hunter had been willing to move from 52.5 percent to 51 percent Friday, that would've been a $60 million concession in Year One of the deal to get back the lost games worth $400 million -- a net gain of $340 million. Instead, the players decided it was better to lose the games, and thus $400 million, which made it a $740 million decision to walk out of the room without a deal.

If Stern had been willing to move from 50 percent and meet Hunter at 51, it would've been a $40 million concession for the owners to get their approximately $400 million share of the lost November games -- a net gain of $360 million. But instead of offering to make the economic move Stern had said Thursday night he was prepared to make, he decided it was better to lose the $400 million -- a net swing of $760 million. So collectively, Hunter and Stern cost their business $1.5 billion by walking away without a deal Friday.

Swell!

There is no rational way to explain this behavior, so there has to be something wrong. And the only answer is that neither Stern nor Hunter had the authority to negotiate beyond his established position.

No wonder the NBA is in such sorry shape, losing $300 million a year and destroying the interest of people who might consider spending money on their product some day with every illogical decision they make.

It's easy to figure out who is giving Stern his marching orders; he works for the owners, many of whom are going for a bloodbath in this negotiation instead of a rational victory. Given the scope of the owners' initial demands, the players have won a couple of surprising "victories" by holding onto guaranteed contracts and a $5 million mid-level exception and beating back the owners' pursuit of a hard team salary cap. But every other aspect of the deal that's been negotiated to this point is in favor of the owners: minimally, a $1.3 billion reduction in salaries over six years, shorter contracts, smaller raises, a more punitive luxury tax, and on and on.

But Stern has done what I warned him not to do. A lawyer by trade, he failed to see the sure victory of a plea bargain in his midst and stubbornly -- presumably not of his own free will -- decided to take this one to the jury, where everybody loses.

The one thing Stern remains empowered to do is own the spin game, and he did that masterfully again Friday by pinning the blame on Hunter for walking out. And as with most spin, there was an element of truth to Stern's account. He and deputy commissioner Adam Silver conveniently omitted the part when there was an opportunity -- both when Hunter was still in the room and after he left -- for Stern to communicate a willingness to make the economic move he'd said he was prepared to make. He didn't do it, he blamed Hunter, and he won the P.R. battle while failing to realize he's losing the war.

Even after letting Hunter leave the room, there was still more time for Stern to rein these negotiations back in.

After word first circulated that the talks had imploded again shortly after 4 p.m. ET, the two sides sat separately for at least 45 minutes before Hunter and union president Derek Fisher finally came downstairs to speak with reporters. Where did league negotiators think Hunter, a 69-year-old man with a bad back, was going so fast that they didn't have time to invite him back in the room to continue the talks? Were they under the mistaken impression they were negotiating against Usain Bolt, would've been halfway up the FDR Drive by the time Stern got out of his chair?

I asked Stern this: If Hunter hadn't left, would Stern have made the economic move he'd stated he was prepared to make? In his answer, he tried to say the league had moved Friday to 50 percent from 47 percent -- which the whole world knows hasn't been the owners' bargaining position since Oct. 4, when the talks last blew up over the BRI split.

Later, I asked Silver why the two sides wouldn't keep trying to close such a small gap, considering the mammoth losses that will result.

"I don't know," Silver said. "You're asking me. Billy said he would not go below 52 when he left. He didn't say, 'Do you want to split the difference?' He said, 'I will not go below 52.' "

"Did you say that?" I asked Silver.

"The negotiation ended when he said that," Silver said.

As in, they ended when the union's 69-year-old negotiator, you know, got up and Usain Bolted.

That was enough for me. Having already heard Silver say with a straight face that the good thing about this deal for the players would be that they'd make more money as revenues increased -- even though a 50-50 split would cut player salaries by $1.8 billion over six years -- it was time to use my brain for other purposes.

Which brings us to this: If Stern is getting his marching orders from the hard-line owners, who is preventing Hunter from being able to negotiate and close this deal? Who's cut his legs out from under him?

And Hunter himself provided the answer -- part of it publicly with the media and part of it privately in the negotiating room.

In explaining how the two sides got back to the bargaining table in the first place this week, Hunter said that after a staff meeting on Monday that "didn't go well at all," he was contacted by "third-party intermediaries who suggested that we get together." It wasn't clear who Hunter was referring to until Silver mentioned something the union's executive director had said in the meeting.

"Billy said, 'My phone is ringing off the hook from agents and from players telling me I cannot go under 52 percent,' " Silver said. "And he said, 'Unless you're prepared to go there, we have nothing to talk about.' "

So even at this late date, when they were on the cusp of a deal, each one's bus has been hijacked -- the way union lawyer Jeffrey Kessler said the negotiations were hijacked a week ago. Stern is no longer driving for the league, and Hunter has been booted from the driver's seat by agents who -- justifiably or not -- believe the players already have given up too much in this negotiation and shouldn't give up another dime.

Yes, the two men who were supposedly empowered to make the deal everyone expected them to make Friday didn't have the juice to get it done. That's sad, silly, unfortunate, a disgrace -- and reality.

Until next time. Or until everybody goes bananas.


Link
 
Season takes another hit as owners, players refuse to close deal

Here we are at the next foolish, scripted blowup of the NBA labor talks. See you in a few days, in the next hotel lobby taken over by grumpy, disaffected reporters and various other characters of questionable moral fiber.
Just when this was starting to get fun, just when it was starting to get done, we all got snookered.

That was the word Billy Hunter used Friday after negotiations to end the 120-day lockout went kablooey for the second time in a week and third time this month. That was what Hunter said David Stern did to him when the commissioner said Thursday night he was going into Friday's seemingly promising bargaining session "ready to negotiate everything."


Only he wasn't. Neither was Hunter. The two men who were supposed to be in position to finally close this deal did not have the authority to do so.

That's the only logical explanation when failing to get a deal this weekend results in approximately $800 million of economic carnage -- the total cost to both sides of a month of lost games -- when the distance between the two sides is $80 million.

"Absurdity," one person on the management side of the NBA business said Friday night.

Oh, no. It's worse than that. Altogether now: It's *#$-hattery.

But you knew that already.

I'd brought two bananas to Friday's bargaining session -- mostly for sustenance during these mentally debilitating hours spent waiting for grown men to finish staring at each other, but also as props. You may recall the banana-in-the-tailpipe column in which I detailed the blowout victory the owners were seeking in these negotiations. On Friday, we all fell for the banana in the tailpipe again. And we didn't even have a late supper -- shrimp salad sandwiches, say -- to show for it.

On top of that, I left my grocery bag with the bananas in the lobby, and by the time the predictable, double-talk-laden news conferences were over, two perfectly good bananas were gone. The latest casualties of the dumbest lockout ever.

My prediction, if you still want to hear it, is that there will be conversations over the weekend and another meeting next week to take another stab at this. There's too much to lose; too much at stake. That's what happened the last time things blew up, sending federal mediator George Cohen running for cover. That's what will happen again. More than enough of the deal has been negotiated already so that the next meeting really only requires two people: Stern and Hunter.

But those two people must have the authority to close the deal. On Friday, neither had it.

That's the only way it could possibly make sense to squander a chance to recoup two weeks of canceled games (worth about $400 million to the owners and players) and lose two weeks more (for a total of $800 million) by refusing to even attempt to close a two-point gap in basketball-related income (BRI).

Think of it another way: If Hunter had been willing to move from 52.5 percent to 51 percent Friday, that would've been a $60 million concession in Year One of the deal to get back the lost games worth $400 million -- a net gain of $340 million. Instead, the players decided it was better to lose the games, and thus $400 million, which made it a $740 million decision to walk out of the room without a deal.

If Stern had been willing to move from 50 percent and meet Hunter at 51, it would've been a $40 million concession for the owners to get their approximately $400 million share of the lost November games -- a net gain of $360 million. But instead of offering to make the economic move Stern had said Thursday night he was prepared to make, he decided it was better to lose the $400 million -- a net swing of $760 million. So collectively, Hunter and Stern cost their business $1.5 billion by walking away without a deal Friday.

Swell!

There is no rational way to explain this behavior, so there has to be something wrong. And the only answer is that neither Stern nor Hunter had the authority to negotiate beyond his established position.

No wonder the NBA is in such sorry shape, losing $300 million a year and destroying the interest of people who might consider spending money on their product some day with every illogical decision they make.

It's easy to figure out who is giving Stern his marching orders; he works for the owners, many of whom are going for a bloodbath in this negotiation instead of a rational victory. Given the scope of the owners' initial demands, the players have won a couple of surprising "victories" by holding onto guaranteed contracts and a $5 million mid-level exception and beating back the owners' pursuit of a hard team salary cap. But every other aspect of the deal that's been negotiated to this point is in favor of the owners: minimally, a $1.3 billion reduction in salaries over six years, shorter contracts, smaller raises, a more punitive luxury tax, and on and on.

But Stern has done what I warned him not to do. A lawyer by trade, he failed to see the sure victory of a plea bargain in his midst and stubbornly -- presumably not of his own free will -- decided to take this one to the jury, where everybody loses.

The one thing Stern remains empowered to do is own the spin game, and he did that masterfully again Friday by pinning the blame on Hunter for walking out. And as with most spin, there was an element of truth to Stern's account. He and deputy commissioner Adam Silver conveniently omitted the part when there was an opportunity -- both when Hunter was still in the room and after he left -- for Stern to communicate a willingness to make the economic move he'd said he was prepared to make. He didn't do it, he blamed Hunter, and he won the P.R. battle while failing to realize he's losing the war.

Even after letting Hunter leave the room, there was still more time for Stern to rein these negotiations back in.

After word first circulated that the talks had imploded again shortly after 4 p.m. ET, the two sides sat separately for at least 45 minutes before Hunter and union president Derek Fisher finally came downstairs to speak with reporters. Where did league negotiators think Hunter, a 69-year-old man with a bad back, was going so fast that they didn't have time to invite him back in the room to continue the talks? Were they under the mistaken impression they were negotiating against Usain Bolt, would've been halfway up the FDR Drive by the time Stern got out of his chair?

I asked Stern this: If Hunter hadn't left, would Stern have made the economic move he'd stated he was prepared to make? In his answer, he tried to say the league had moved Friday to 50 percent from 47 percent -- which the whole world knows hasn't been the owners' bargaining position since Oct. 4, when the talks last blew up over the BRI split.

Later, I asked Silver why the two sides wouldn't keep trying to close such a small gap, considering the mammoth losses that will result.

"I don't know," Silver said. "You're asking me. Billy said he would not go below 52 when he left. He didn't say, 'Do you want to split the difference?' He said, 'I will not go below 52.' "

"Did you say that?" I asked Silver.

"The negotiation ended when he said that," Silver said.

As in, they ended when the union's 69-year-old negotiator, you know, got up and Usain Bolted.

That was enough for me. Having already heard Silver say with a straight face that the good thing about this deal for the players would be that they'd make more money as revenues increased -- even though a 50-50 split would cut player salaries by $1.8 billion over six years -- it was time to use my brain for other purposes.

Which brings us to this: If Stern is getting his marching orders from the hard-line owners, who is preventing Hunter from being able to negotiate and close this deal? Who's cut his legs out from under him?

And Hunter himself provided the answer -- part of it publicly with the media and part of it privately in the negotiating room.

In explaining how the two sides got back to the bargaining table in the first place this week, Hunter said that after a staff meeting on Monday that "didn't go well at all," he was contacted by "third-party intermediaries who suggested that we get together." It wasn't clear who Hunter was referring to until Silver mentioned something the union's executive director had said in the meeting.

"Billy said, 'My phone is ringing off the hook from agents and from players telling me I cannot go under 52 percent,' " Silver said. "And he said, 'Unless you're prepared to go there, we have nothing to talk about.' "

So even at this late date, when they were on the cusp of a deal, each one's bus has been hijacked -- the way union lawyer Jeffrey Kessler said the negotiations were hijacked a week ago. Stern is no longer driving for the league, and Hunter has been booted from the driver's seat by agents who -- justifiably or not -- believe the players already have given up too much in this negotiation and shouldn't give up another dime.

Yes, the two men who were supposedly empowered to make the deal everyone expected them to make Friday didn't have the juice to get it done. That's sad, silly, unfortunate, a disgrace -- and reality.

Until next time. Or until everybody goes bananas.


Link
 
Season takes another hit as owners, players refuse to close deal

Here we are at the next foolish, scripted blowup of the NBA labor talks. See you in a few days, in the next hotel lobby taken over by grumpy, disaffected reporters and various other characters of questionable moral fiber.
Just when this was starting to get fun, just when it was starting to get done, we all got snookered.

That was the word Billy Hunter used Friday after negotiations to end the 120-day lockout went kablooey for the second time in a week and third time this month. That was what Hunter said David Stern did to him when the commissioner said Thursday night he was going into Friday's seemingly promising bargaining session "ready to negotiate everything."


Only he wasn't. Neither was Hunter. The two men who were supposed to be in position to finally close this deal did not have the authority to do so.

That's the only logical explanation when failing to get a deal this weekend results in approximately $800 million of economic carnage -- the total cost to both sides of a month of lost games -- when the distance between the two sides is $80 million.

"Absurdity," one person on the management side of the NBA business said Friday night.

Oh, no. It's worse than that. Altogether now: It's *#$-hattery.

But you knew that already.

I'd brought two bananas to Friday's bargaining session -- mostly for sustenance during these mentally debilitating hours spent waiting for grown men to finish staring at each other, but also as props. You may recall the banana-in-the-tailpipe column in which I detailed the blowout victory the owners were seeking in these negotiations. On Friday, we all fell for the banana in the tailpipe again. And we didn't even have a late supper -- shrimp salad sandwiches, say -- to show for it.

On top of that, I left my grocery bag with the bananas in the lobby, and by the time the predictable, double-talk-laden news conferences were over, two perfectly good bananas were gone. The latest casualties of the dumbest lockout ever.

My prediction, if you still want to hear it, is that there will be conversations over the weekend and another meeting next week to take another stab at this. There's too much to lose; too much at stake. That's what happened the last time things blew up, sending federal mediator George Cohen running for cover. That's what will happen again. More than enough of the deal has been negotiated already so that the next meeting really only requires two people: Stern and Hunter.

But those two people must have the authority to close the deal. On Friday, neither had it.

That's the only way it could possibly make sense to squander a chance to recoup two weeks of canceled games (worth about $400 million to the owners and players) and lose two weeks more (for a total of $800 million) by refusing to even attempt to close a two-point gap in basketball-related income (BRI).

Think of it another way: If Hunter had been willing to move from 52.5 percent to 51 percent Friday, that would've been a $60 million concession in Year One of the deal to get back the lost games worth $400 million -- a net gain of $340 million. Instead, the players decided it was better to lose the games, and thus $400 million, which made it a $740 million decision to walk out of the room without a deal.

If Stern had been willing to move from 50 percent and meet Hunter at 51, it would've been a $40 million concession for the owners to get their approximately $400 million share of the lost November games -- a net gain of $360 million. But instead of offering to make the economic move Stern had said Thursday night he was prepared to make, he decided it was better to lose the $400 million -- a net swing of $760 million. So collectively, Hunter and Stern cost their business $1.5 billion by walking away without a deal Friday.

Swell!

There is no rational way to explain this behavior, so there has to be something wrong. And the only answer is that neither Stern nor Hunter had the authority to negotiate beyond his established position.

No wonder the NBA is in such sorry shape, losing $300 million a year and destroying the interest of people who might consider spending money on their product some day with every illogical decision they make.

It's easy to figure out who is giving Stern his marching orders; he works for the owners, many of whom are going for a bloodbath in this negotiation instead of a rational victory. Given the scope of the owners' initial demands, the players have won a couple of surprising "victories" by holding onto guaranteed contracts and a $5 million mid-level exception and beating back the owners' pursuit of a hard team salary cap. But every other aspect of the deal that's been negotiated to this point is in favor of the owners: minimally, a $1.3 billion reduction in salaries over six years, shorter contracts, smaller raises, a more punitive luxury tax, and on and on.

But Stern has done what I warned him not to do. A lawyer by trade, he failed to see the sure victory of a plea bargain in his midst and stubbornly -- presumably not of his own free will -- decided to take this one to the jury, where everybody loses.

The one thing Stern remains empowered to do is own the spin game, and he did that masterfully again Friday by pinning the blame on Hunter for walking out. And as with most spin, there was an element of truth to Stern's account. He and deputy commissioner Adam Silver conveniently omitted the part when there was an opportunity -- both when Hunter was still in the room and after he left -- for Stern to communicate a willingness to make the economic move he'd said he was prepared to make. He didn't do it, he blamed Hunter, and he won the P.R. battle while failing to realize he's losing the war.

Even after letting Hunter leave the room, there was still more time for Stern to rein these negotiations back in.

After word first circulated that the talks had imploded again shortly after 4 p.m. ET, the two sides sat separately for at least 45 minutes before Hunter and union president Derek Fisher finally came downstairs to speak with reporters. Where did league negotiators think Hunter, a 69-year-old man with a bad back, was going so fast that they didn't have time to invite him back in the room to continue the talks? Were they under the mistaken impression they were negotiating against Usain Bolt, would've been halfway up the FDR Drive by the time Stern got out of his chair?

I asked Stern this: If Hunter hadn't left, would Stern have made the economic move he'd stated he was prepared to make? In his answer, he tried to say the league had moved Friday to 50 percent from 47 percent -- which the whole world knows hasn't been the owners' bargaining position since Oct. 4, when the talks last blew up over the BRI split.

Later, I asked Silver why the two sides wouldn't keep trying to close such a small gap, considering the mammoth losses that will result.

"I don't know," Silver said. "You're asking me. Billy said he would not go below 52 when he left. He didn't say, 'Do you want to split the difference?' He said, 'I will not go below 52.' "

"Did you say that?" I asked Silver.

"The negotiation ended when he said that," Silver said.

As in, they ended when the union's 69-year-old negotiator, you know, got up and Usain Bolted.

That was enough for me. Having already heard Silver say with a straight face that the good thing about this deal for the players would be that they'd make more money as revenues increased -- even though a 50-50 split would cut player salaries by $1.8 billion over six years -- it was time to use my brain for other purposes.

Which brings us to this: If Stern is getting his marching orders from the hard-line owners, who is preventing Hunter from being able to negotiate and close this deal? Who's cut his legs out from under him?

And Hunter himself provided the answer -- part of it publicly with the media and part of it privately in the negotiating room.

In explaining how the two sides got back to the bargaining table in the first place this week, Hunter said that after a staff meeting on Monday that "didn't go well at all," he was contacted by "third-party intermediaries who suggested that we get together." It wasn't clear who Hunter was referring to until Silver mentioned something the union's executive director had said in the meeting.

"Billy said, 'My phone is ringing off the hook from agents and from players telling me I cannot go under 52 percent,' " Silver said. "And he said, 'Unless you're prepared to go there, we have nothing to talk about.' "

So even at this late date, when they were on the cusp of a deal, each one's bus has been hijacked -- the way union lawyer Jeffrey Kessler said the negotiations were hijacked a week ago. Stern is no longer driving for the league, and Hunter has been booted from the driver's seat by agents who -- justifiably or not -- believe the players already have given up too much in this negotiation and shouldn't give up another dime.

Yes, the two men who were supposedly empowered to make the deal everyone expected them to make Friday didn't have the juice to get it done. That's sad, silly, unfortunate, a disgrace -- and reality.

Until next time. Or until everybody goes bananas.


Link
 
i texted three people that the lockout was about to be over

im about to get smacked

i cant telll you how pissed i was. i took a shot and turn around and see stern's face on the TV. i got maaaaad happy. and then i see what the TV is saying......
 
i texted three people that the lockout was about to be over

im about to get smacked

i cant telll you how pissed i was. i took a shot and turn around and see stern's face on the TV. i got maaaaad happy. and then i see what the TV is saying......
 
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