Hey, fans are a ‘player’ in the CBA talks—just not a respected partner

Like the youngest kid in a large family (not to make this personal but I know that feeling) who gets ignored when the "serious" opinions are floated out there for important household debates, the ongoing CBA talks—or lack thereof—essentially neglect one of the major constituencies in the drama: we, the fans.

As we move into Part III of the Bettman era (and I'm not laying this on Prince Gary- as I've opined here before, he is just the highly-paid senior advisor and mouthpiece for the owners...) lockout movie "sequel", after the earlier disasters in '94 and '04, I think many of us (not all, I realize) believe greed is a central factor in why we have this “labour” dance every few years.  I know we all say it’s billionaires and millionaires, but it’s more than that for me.  I get that they are just finding any way they can to cut up the massive amounts of cash they all think they "deserve".  That’s human nature, I suppose.  Most of us are pretty greedy when push comes to shove.

It’s that I simply don’t believe or trust either side in this metaphorical luxury box mess.  Just when I’d like to, say, go back to my child-like faith in what ought to be in the world and support the players—even just a smidge—some dumb-ass player agent says one more ridiculously stupid thing and it just makes me all the more agitated. (I keep warning myself to stay off Twitter...)

Since my bar for the owners can’t get any lower to begin with, I’ll simply say that these two sides deserve one another. They are well-paired.

Some of you have heard me say many times, when I am “defending”  (though not really) the owners and Bettman:  there is no game without the owners.  As much as we need players, and we do, if the owners don’t put up the money to begin with, there is no game.  Full stop.  And there certainly would be no long-term, secure, guaranteed, one-hundred million dollar salaries for guys who—if they did not play hockey—could not earn that kind of money in any other occupation of their choosing.  Ever.  Not a chance. Not in a million years.

(Just one additional note.  If the sports world somehow changed radically tomorrow and these players had to go out and earn a living in some other fashion, or instead, had to accept a salary cap of, say, one million dollars per player a year, they would still run to play professional hockey. And I mean run.)

The owners, on the other hand, made their millions in most cases in business ventures not relating to their ownership of an NHL team. We may think the way these individuals or corporations run hockey franchises is none too smart, but they would all be able to survive and make their gazilions in other industries, unlike the players. (Not that Bettman has always exactly attracted the most, ah, honest of owners, eh...?)

I guess the thing that we need to recognize and accept is that they—and I mean both sides—simply don’t care about us.  Not that corporate entities ever really ‘care”.  Who's kidding who?  We are, as Bettman quite correctly said, always going to come back.   We’re fans, by definition.  This is what we do.  The sport provides us with an outlet, with entertainment, with a diversion.  There is value in that and the two sides play it for all it is worth—and more.  Threats of boycotts?  C'mon.  Fans always come back.  The owners know it.  The players know it.  Yes, the baseball lockout “hurt” the sport temporarily in ’94, but within a couple of years, those obviously juiced-up ballplayers created a huge resurgence in baseball with home run records- and the attendant media and fan frenzy.  Lots of media folks and management types (and we fans) knew the players were cheating, but hey, it helped re-invigorate the game.  No one seemed to care.  No fans complained at the time.

The hockey dispute in 2004-’05 saw some lost traction in a few U.S. markets, but those markets (let’s be honest) don’t really care about hockey anyway.  Hockey falls below baseball, football, college football, high school football, basketball and NASCAR.  I mean, there are nice pockets of passionate, thoughtful fans in some of those U.S. non-hockey markets but overall, if the claim is you have a hard time following the game because you can’t see the puck, I don’t know what to say.  Chances are we ought not depend on those folks to “grow” the game, I wouldn't think.  Until, as I've posted here often in the past, we eliminate a few teams (and a few NHLPA jobs) the current economic (and hockey quality) problems will remain—regardless of the economic model they agree upon.

Before I continue, let me state clearly:  no one cares about the fans.  Not a whit.  Lets not kid ourselves that players “care” more than the owners.  Oh, the players like to see bums in the seats and people making noise because it helps pump them up and achieve their goal of “winning”—and nowadays, making those salaries worth millions of dollars.  They love the glory, the entitlement that comes from the adulation they receive.  When their team wins the Cup, they'll stand up at the parade and "thank" the fans, but their sincerity goes about.....this far.

I don’t believe for a moment that anything these guys do, even their charitable pursuits, are about anything more than image.  (Why do we inevitably “hear” about all their “good works”?)  Are there some genuinely “good guys” out there?  I’m sure there are.  I’ve encountered some.  But generally speaking, I feel that professional athletes want to be seen to be doing the right thing.  In too many instances they wouldn’t do anything to help the everyday fan on the street—if it had to come out of their own pocket.  I can tell you from significant personal experience that many athletes are some of the most…how do I say this as nicely as possible….well, least likely to want to pay for anything- again, if it is coming out of their own pockets.  I’ll share some stories some day, without mentioning names…)

So no, they don't care- about we, the fans, and certainly not about all those whose work, businesses and livelihoods and families depend on NHL hockey and will be so severely impacted if there are no games this fall and winter.

But beyond the fact that the two sides don’t really care about the fans, there is more we need to come to grips with.  We are the spurned lover here.  We are the ones who miss “it” the most.  Yes, the players miss the buzz and the camaraderie (and the money, though they have a huge strike fund) when there are no games, but they’ve all made their money already anyway.  Heck, if they miss a season, the vast majority could still live off what they have already made for decades—without having to be what most of us would consider "prudent" in their spending.  Those who are eligible (or think they “need” it) will still make some cash playing in Europe or at worst, the minors. There are still revenues being generated (e.g. licensing sales) even in a lockout.

No, we are the ones who miss it most.  We build our schedules around the games.  We love to cheer, to yell, to complain about the Leafs when they “stink”.  We like to play line-matcher, arm-chair General Manager. All summer, we plan a roster for the next season.  We think about possible trades twelve months of the year.  When there are no games, we lose something.  Yes, most of us find (as many of us did during the aforementioned sports disputes) other, sometimes more useful, things to do with our time.  Or we contribute to the world in some positive fashion with our “found” time.  But we usually long for a return of the sport so many of us grew up loving, and the team (in my case, the blue and white) that we grew up following with a devotion that we don’t have for a lot of other things in our life besides our own families.

So at the end of the day, I have argued here, and always will, that whether we are season-ticket holders or not, we fans pay in some meaningful way for the salaries all of the owners and player (and agents) “earn”.  We pay for sports TV channels.  We buy licensed merchandize.  We purchase good and services from the hundreds of advertisers and sponsors connected to NHL hockey.  Even the little kid listening to Leaf games on the radio under his pillow at night is part of a “demographic” that advertisers pay for to connect with the parents who purchase the toys, sports cards, snacks and soft drinks for the kids who listen to the games.  It’s all a huge business cycle, and we are a big part of it, for sure.

And we are glad to be so, because we love the game.  We love hockey. And many of us love the Maple Leafs.  We may not love every player.  We may not love the coach.  We may not like what they’ve been doing for the past several years.  But there is this lingering desire to be part of something, to belong to something, to a special club.  To be a part of, in this case, Maple Leaf hockey and the history and the legacy that it still—despite too many losing seasons—represents.

But…and this is the very big but…this is part of why we keep coming back, why we accept being neglected and abused by the more powerful parties in this relationship.  Because, while we don’t want to admit it—while there would be no money, no game and no fame for all of them without us—we evidently need them more than they need us.