No one owner should have all that power

Who doesn't love a serious discussion about labor negotiations?

Well, quite frankly, everyone.

If you are like me, you have been completely ignoring the NBA's Collective Bargaining Agreement issues. Hey, David Stern, we legitimately cared about the labor stoppage ending five months ago when it was called the NFL Lockout. (Seriously, is there anything worse than preseason pro basketball? These guys don't start playing something resembling defense until sometime around Valentine's Day. We aren't missing much.)

And lockouts are such a ridiculous premise: A bunch of crusty billionaires with unlimited earning potential try to take away income from marginally educated millionaires, who have no idea how long they will be playing and are still living paycheck to paycheck. Why don't you calm down, you bullies? You've made billions of dollars and undoubtedly contributed to this country's descent to Third World levels of income disparity (Oh no, am I coming off as socialist? Hopefully Obamacare can treat this pre-existing condition before putting me in front of a government-run death panel). At the end of the day, the players are the product; so, logically, the owners want to limit how much athletes can earn from the work  the league is profiting from. That makes sense.

Also, as Malcolm Gladwell pointed out recently in a column on Grantland, owning an NBA franchise is a lot like owning a famous painting — it isn't meant to be the strongest business investment.

So, it's time for the owners to stop being as pretentious as the people in the new Audi commercials ("We really enjoyed your Vermeer's"). And, if I ran the NBAPA I'd have some real resolutions that would make the NBA fairer for everyone — assuming the owners end up getting what they want in the end, which of course, they will, because they don't need to go to China to keep receiving wages.

My bargaining points:

Every owner should wear a monocle and walk with a cane: Owners are getting too adept at pulling off the "everyman's look" sitting courtside in their $4,000 cashmere sweaters. If they really think they deserve more than 50 percent of the revenue earned by the league then they should reflect that wealth. I want every single owner showing up to games looking like the offspring of Mr. Peanut and the Monopoly guy. It's only fair to the fans.

We all know that every NBA owner has some enormous yacht or summer home somewhere in the world. Well, if they are going to take away the opportunity for their players to buy their own luxury items, they should at least be forced to timeshare their extravagant properties. Imagine how awesome Delonte West's (aka Charlee Reddz) new music video would be if he actually had some stuff to be stunting in front of — instead of a green screen like we see in his new video for his sure-to-be a smash-hit "Living Life Fast," which features the same stoned guy from the "KFC freestyle" video on YouTube.

Owners henceforth will be seen, not heard. They will no longer be allowed to address the media. If they really need to reach the people they have two options: They can either write to their local newspaper, but their letter has to be published in Comic Sans font, and will only be eligible if it is tear-stained like Dan Gilbert's letter after "The Decision"; or, if they are not weeping about how life is so unfair, they will have to designate one player on each team to be their press secretary who will tweet the owner's thoughts. But here's the twist — everything the owner wants to say has to be relayed through the entire team. That's right, folks, press releases via a game of telephone. Can you imagine how awesome a Gilbert Arenas-influenced announcement would be? The owner's thoughts would end up sounding more muddled than Rick Perry's rhetoric in recent debates. 

Finally, if the owners really think they are more valuable than the players, make them prove it. Every All-Star Weekend, fans would pick two owners to serve as captains of a full-court, 48-minute, five-on-five game. Last owner to require serious medical attention wins. These guys love believing that they are warriors because they are bankrolling a bunch of actual world-class competitors. I say we find out, once and for all, who's got the strongest heart — which will be quite the test considering how much fine steak and red wine these guys enjoy in their offseason home in Tuscany.

"Just win, baby."

Rest in peace, Al.