Monday, Oct. 19, 1998

Greedheads of Basketball

By Daniel Eisenberg

Ever since Michael Jordan stripped Karl Malone of the basketball and raced off to his sixth championship title in June, fans have wondered whether Jordan would hit the hardwood for another season. But now, with NBA team owners and players locked in a bitter contract dispute, the question is whether anyone else will show up, either.

Representatives of the owners and players sat down for talks last week, but like Charles Barkley and Dennis Rodman fighting for the low post, neither side gave ground. Commissioner David Stern canceled the exhibition season. And this week is likely to bring worse news: because teams need at least three weeks to sign free agents and hold training camps, Stern and the owners, who have locked the players out since July, are expected to call off at least part of the 82-game regular season, set for tip-off on Nov. 3.

The NBA, which has never lost a regular-season game to labor strife, was already struggling to rebound from last year's arrests of five players on marijuana charges and from the ugly spectacle of Golden State guard Latrell Sprewell's assaulting his coach. The league was also facing the prospect of life without Jordan, who made pro basketball a global franchise. And now the sport is about to alienate its fans, precisely when baseball is on the rise.

Basketball's owners and players, though, seem to care more about money and control than about the fans. The players, already the highest-paid pro athletes, with an average annual salary of $2.6 million, want to retain the ability to earn unlimited pay as free agents. "There is no reason why we should be restricted in what we're making while the owners are cashing in," says Chicago Bulls guard Steve Kerr. The owners insist on a firm salary cap for each team, to reduce the share of revenue that goes to players. (Last year it was 57% of about $1.7 billion.) To that end, the owners have proposed phasing out the so-called Larry Bird exception, which lets each team break its salary cap ($26.9 million per franchise last season) to retain its popular veteran free agents.

Only half the franchises are turning a profit, claim the owners. Not so, say the players: just four teams are in the red. In any case, they complain, owners have a funny way of counting so-called basketball-related revenues. These omit, among other things, about 60% of income from luxury boxes and concessions.

Unlike combatants in, say, a steel strike, neither party to the basketball dispute has much to lose by not settling quickly. Though they'll eventually have to give up part of their new four-year TV contract, worth $2.6 billion, most team owners have already made fortunes in other industries. Similarly, marquee hoopsters like Gary Payton can probably count on millions from endorsements whether they play or not. A court-appointed arbitrator will soon rule on whether 230 players with guaranteed contracts must be paid in spite of the lockout, and that could put pressure on the side that loses to settle the dispute. Or, this being America in the '90s, the owners and players could decide to spend the season in court instead of on it.

--By Daniel Eisenberg