RIGHT DESTINATION,
WRONG TRACK
One thing is clear
about the approaching contract showdown between NFL owners and players (page
30): Ed Garvey, the executive director of the players' union, is justified in
seeking more money for his members. Even allowing for the fact that rosters are
bigger and the season somewhat shorter in football than in other sports, it's
an inequity that the average player's salary in the prosperous NFL was only
$78,000 in 1980 vs. $108,000 in the NHL, $143,000 in baseball and $186,000 in
the NBA.
What isn't clear
is why Garvey insists on addressing that inequity by pushing for a fixed share
of NFL gross revenues for the players instead of for the sort of relatively
unrestricted free-agency system under which salaries have soared in other
sports.
Garvey's
explanation is that free agency in the NFL simply won't work. As evidence, he
notes that, since 1977, when the last collective-bargaining agreement in
football was reached, only six of the more than 500 players who have become
free agents have changed teams and that a star of the magnitude of the Chicago
Bears' Walter Payton didn't get a single bid from another team when he became a
free agent last February. Garvey argues that because NFL owners share TV
revenues equally and are thus in a can't-lose situation financially, they lack
the necessary incentive to bid for free agents.
But Garvey himself
is at least partly responsible for the lack of movement he decries. If Payton
didn't attract offers from other teams, it had something to do with the two
first-round draft choices that any club signing him would have had to pay the
Bears under the NFL's stiff compensation rules. Those rules are in force
because, after a 1976 federal court decision gave NFL players absolute free
agency, Garvey's union negated that victory by agreeing in the 1977
negotiations to compensation procedures that turned out to restrict free agency
more than the union anticipated; in return for the concessions on free agency,
the NFL granted what amounts to a closed shop and higher NFL contributions to
the players' pension plan.
As for Garvey's
argument that owners have no economic incentive to win, the facts suggest
otherwise. NFL owners tend to be successful businessmen with strong egos who
don't particularly relish having sportswriters, golf-course kibitzers and
boardroom cronies giving them grief about being associated with losing teams.
And, in fact, they do have a financial stake in won-lost records. How well a
team performs on the field can affect the price that can be charged for tickets
to its games, not to mention the demand for luxury boxes and the amount of
concession receipts lost because of no-shows turned off by a team's ineptness.
It's partly because of such factors that the profits of NFL clubs vary widely,
notwithstanding the equal sharing of TV wealth; according to the union's own
estimates, the Rams, for example, had a 1980 profit of at least $7.7 million
vs. barely $2.5 million for the Broncos.
One reason Garvey
shies from fighting for free agency may be his desire to minimize the influence
of certain player agents with whom he has feuded. It may be no coincidence that
a group of agents tried unsuccessfully two years ago to establish a rival NFL
players' association or that Garvey's union was a major force behind a bill
strictly regulating sports agents that passed the California legislature last
year. Obviously, agents would wield less power under Garvey's proposed
percentage-of-gross-revenue scheme, with its provision for a fixed salary
scale, than they would under unbridled free agency.
For all we know,
Garvey's negotiating strategy will work and he'll win a revenue-sharing deal
that results in deserved higher salaries for his players. But we also wouldn't
be surprised if he has trouble gaining public sympathy for so unconventional a
scheme and is hard put to maintain rank-and-file unity on the issue. By
contrast, free agency is a tried-and-true method of raising player salaries,
one that hasn't been honestly tested in the NFL.
THE MASSAGE WAS ON
THE HOUSE
When an earthquake registering 5.9 on the Richter scale hit New England one
morning last month, Colgate Goaltender Guy Lemonde was asleep in a motel in
Brewer, Maine, where the Red Raiders had traveled to play the University of
Maine. As the room shook, Lemonde woke up, turned to his roommate, backup
Goalie Jeff Cooper, and said, "Thanks a lot, Coop." Then he fell back
asleep. Later, after awakening for good and being told about the quake, Lemonde
sheepishly explained why he'd expressed gratitude to Cooper: "I thought
Coop had put a quarter in the Magic Fingers."
NOT A CLUB FOR
JUST ANYONE