Hiko checks in once again with "Moot Points", and in this week's installment, hits on the looming labor unrest in the NFL, and how he would structure the next collective bargaining agreement if he was king.  And while he's at it, proposes some rule changes that he would love to see the NFL adopt.  Hiko also touches on his friend Utah, his impending marriage, and why he wants to put a stop to the whole thing.  It's our weekly dose of levity here at TCF ... it's "Moot Points".

~~~If I Were King

Tragically, labor unrest looms in the not-so-distant NFL future. The NFL Owners feel they surrendered too much ground in the last Collective Bargaining Agreement, sending the salary cap through the roof and diminishing their profits. The NFL Players (and their Union) are understandably hesitant to give back any gains they have made. Thus, the impetus of a quarrel.

Recently, the Owners opted out of the CBA. The NFL will stay as-is for the 2008 and 2009 seasons, but, unless the impasse is bridged, 2010 will be uncapped, and 2011 will very possibly result in a lockout.

As a fan of the NFL, one cannot be encouraged by this news. The NFL is enjoying record popularity due mainly to its continued labor peace and the parity that the salary cap provides. The NFL is a machine, well-oiled, well-run, well-governed, well-maintained. It’s the golden goose for all those involved. So it’s frustrating to sit and watch greed and pride grind its axe and hold that pretty bird’s neck against the stump.

Hopefully, the powers that be can come to this simple realization and the matter can be concluded amicably, without a work stoppage. However, should this be impossible, then it’s time for me to step in as the new Emperor and Supreme Vizier of the NFL.

My first act would be to create the new Collective Bargaining Agreement. Here’s how it would go:

*The major implement would be that a rookie salary structure would be put in place. This is key. 1^st Round picks get 5 year contracts, 2^nd round picks get 4 years, all other picks get 3 years. Take the average salary/signing bonus of each pick (3^rd pick in the 1^st round, 5^th pick in the 2^nd round, etc.) over the last 10 years. Extrapolate the numbers for a 5 year contract for 1^st round, for a 4 year contract for 2^nd round, for 3 years for all others. Use those figures to create the rookie salary structure. Increase it each year at the rate of inflation.

No more holdouts. No more agents whining in the press. More money for the veterans.

*The Minimum Salaries would remain the same, increasing each year by the rate of inflation:

Years Experience Minimum Salary

0 $285,000

1 $360,000

2 $435,000

3 $510,000

4–6 $595,000

7–9 $720,000

10+ $820,000

*The salary cap would remain in place. The cap would be lowered from 59.5% of the total projected league revenue to 57%, which is still more than the 55% it was pre-2006.

*All contracts also contain bonuses for Pro Bowl appearances and MVP awards, but these do not count against the cap.

*All contracts are guaranteed to 50%. All signing bonus money still counts against the cap at a prorated amount. The entire salary counts against the cap if the player is active for the team. If a player is cut, their salary does not count against the cap. However, the team must still pay him 50% of his scheduled salary for all remaining years.

*If a player is cut and is picked up by another team, his former team must only pay him 50% his scheduled salary minus his new salary. For instance, if Baltimore cut Ray Lewis before the last year of his contract because he was scheduled to make $10 million that season, then the Ravens would owe him 50% of that salary, or $5 million. However, let’s say that Ray Ray was later picked up by the New England Patriots for $4 million that season, then Baltimore would only owe him the remaining $1 million of the $5 million they originally owed him after he was cut, not the entire $5 million that was 50% of what was guaranteed in his contract. This way, players can still play for a new team while not completely screwing their former team.

*All players with 4 or less years of NFL experience can become Free Agents when their contracts expire, but are Restricted.

*All players with 5 or more years of NFL experience can become Free Agents when their contracts expire, and they are Unrestricted.

*The Franchise Tag stays as is, but each team has three, not just one.

*Drug and Illegal Substance policies stay as is.

*I’m not sure what the NFL pension fund is like, but it’s probably not good enough. Also, increased medical care and awareness of all potentially long-term injuries (such as concussions) should be addressed.

There – I think that’s more than fair.

If any of the owners don’t like it, I will invite them to cordially move to another industry in which they will be as high profile and powerful whilst still making hand over fist. I’m sure that we’ll find someone to replace them. This is not a democracy. It is a Hikocracy.

If the Player’s Union doesn’t like it, then I will crush them. Normally, I have sympathy for Unions, as they were originally created to protect the common worker from The Man. I do not, however, have sympathy for Unions that haggle desperately to obtain more money for the Incredibly Rich and Powerful from the Even More Incredibly Rich and Powerful. Such as the NFLPA (or any Union for Professional Athletes) or the Screen Actors Guild (which is set to go on strike this Summer, demanding silk toilet paper and Sherpas to physically carry them to and from set).

My compassion does not lie with either the Players or the Owners. The only thing that I care about is that I have my football on Sundays. The easiest way to ensure continued labor peace in the NFL is to annihilate the Union should it makes itself nuisancesome. I’ll have the NFL play with scabs until the players that see that my offer is more than fair will cross. It’s been done before, fans will still pay attention to their teams, and it will be fun to watch Ryan Leaf and Tim Couch try to justify their existence one last time.

While I’m at it, I’m changing some rules as well.

*The QB is too protected. Put him in body armor if you must, but cut down the Personal Foul penalties, especially on hits which are so obviously not violent or purposeful.

*Overtime is also changed. 5 minute OT periods, with a maximum of 3. That “Sudden Death” hoo-ha is history.

*Each team has a minor league team in a smaller city in their general vicinity. For instance, the Cleveland Browns minor league organization will play in Canton, in Fawcett Stadium, right next to the Hall of Fame. The idea of developing players in Europe in the Summer is a failed endeavor. Develop them right here within easy driving distance of the Pros.

*Throwing bottles at erroneous Referees will be tolerated if their mistake is especially egregious.

*And screw the “family atmosphere” notion in the stadiums. This ain’t the symphony – it’s football. The stands, like the game, should be filthy and violent. If you choose to bring your kids, let them know beforehand that they will hear some salty language. Teach ‘em how to harass fans of the visiting team at an early age; learn ‘em the use of certain finger gestures.

*There is only one week between the NFC/AFC Championship Games and the Super Bowl. Two weeks is just too much crap.

*The Pro Bowl still occurs in Hawaii, but there isn’t an actual game. Instead, all the Pro Bowl players will compete in various contests. Texas Hold ‘Em, Golf, Pool, Drunken Scrabble, Beer Pong. Marvin Harrison will run the Gun Range. Terrell Owens will chair the Sit-Up competition. Michael Vick will host the… no, that’s too easy.

*And the NFL will hire a professional to “deal” with Arlen Specter and his grandstanding, special-interests motivated ways.

Joining him in extra heavy boots at the bottom of the Monongahela? One Arthur B. Modell.

~~~Red Skies By Morning, Dude, Take Warning

A friend of mine, let’s call him Utah (if Dakota can be a uber-popular name, why not Utah?), is engaged. He lives with his girlfriend, Pippi, her two young kids, and her big friggin’ rock which he bought for her when their love was true.

Sadly, that would be a falsehood, since their love was never true. As I am likely to be Utah’s Best Man at the wedding, years ago I planned my speech. It goes like this: “When Pippi and Utah first started dating, I thought they were a good match. But now, I think they’re the worst couple in the history of mankind. To Pippi and Utah!”

Catchy, huh?

I have absolutely nothing against Pippi. She’s fairly smart, she works full time, goes to school full time, works an internship, and still finds the time to come home, cook dinner, wash clothes, and clean up the house because Utah is – let’s face it – a lazy slob. In Utah’s defense, he was truly and deeply in love with his ex-wife, and she left him. That ripped him up so bad that he became a shell of his former self, and his respect/trust of the fairer sex was gone. So Pippi must have the patience of a saint to do all she does and still deal with him. And she probably has low self-esteem.

And she truly loved Utah. When they first started dating about 4 years ago, she fawned over him. She bragged all the time about “her man” and their sexcapades. She thought he was the bee’s knees (whatever that means). Now, Utah is a decent guy, but he doesn’t treat women very well, and he’s kind of let himself go, so, to everyone else, it seemed Pippi was bragging ecstatically about Utah the way one might brag ecstatically about finding a dime in a used diaper.

Regardless, he broke up with her about two years ago to pursue his options. Back in the day, he was quite the lady’s man (although, admittedly, he was not selective), and thought he would be swimming in conquests. Pippi was devastated. I saw her out somewhere, and she came over to me and we started talking. “How’s Utah?” was her almost immediate question. “I’m sure he’s out sporking everything that walks now.”

“Uhhh… no. Not unless he’s paying for it. You’re the only one I know that thought he was a catch.”

When Utah realized that, indeed, the sea was not full of fish (or it was but they just weren’t biting), he went back to Pippi and gave her that big aforementioned rock and love was born anew. And now that their engagement was a reality, she and her children moved into his house.

That was over a year ago.

Circa now: they have yet to set a wedding date. There is no sign they will ever set a date. Their relationship which, in my opinion, was always a farce, has now settled into reality. Pippi no longer stares at Utah with adoring eyes. Familiarity breeds contempt.

Utah and I get together occasionally and play pool, where I let him vent about Pippi and his frustrations. I say nothing, because I pretty much side with her. She works her ass off, and he feels hurt because she doesn’t have the time or effort to pamper him any more. Boo frickin’ hoo. But I don’t really say anything, since, until yesterday, I thought it entirely possible that once Pippi finished school, their relationship would improve from crap to crap lite.

However, yesterday, Utah confided in me that Pippi hasn’t given him a blowjob in almost a year. I almost dropped my stick in shock.

From the get, Pippi was always very blunt and smug about how much she did for her man and how much she enjoyed giving him oral gratification. Utah would sit back with a feces-eating grin whilst Pippi would pontificate on how she would wake him up with one each morning.

And now… nada?

“A year?” I repeated.

“Almost,” he said.

“Why???” I asked, unbelieving.

“She says she doesn’t like it.”

“She liked it just fine before!”

“I know. She just doesn’t want to anymore.”

And then I could no longer keep my mouth shut. This sham had gone too far.

“You need to break up with her. Now.”

I discussed my advice with Elektra later on. She seemed incredulous at first.

“You advised someone to dump their fiancé just because she won’t give him a blowjob?”

“Hells yeah! Unless her lips are sown shut in a tragic mattress factory accident, that shit don’t fly!”

Honestly, despite my glib, the hummer’s got nothing to do with it (OK, let’s face it, it’s got something to do with it, I mean, is life without them really worth living?) The issue is that she doesn’t think enough of him anymore to even bother trying to please him. She’s so sick of him that she doesn’t feel he deserves anything special. She expected him to become her dream man. But he’s not going to change – he’s never shown any propensity to do so. So now you’re looking at a situation where neither party really likes each other, and neither respects each other enough to do simple things to make each other’s lives happier or easier.

And these people should be getting married?

I’ve seen some awful married couples in my time – an alarming amount – but those two would take the crème brulee.

I know that when things went Iraq between my ex and me, I used to stay up late to avoid having to sleep with her. The last thing I wanted was to engage in sexual congress with someone I loathed. Well, that’s how Pippi feels about Utah.

But, knowing how people are, they’ll probably try to “work it out” for some stupid bullshit reason, and I’ll be stuck with the speech duties once again.

“For the adorable couple, I only have the best wishes for you, such as my wish that you signed a pre-nup and my wish that you both be neutered so as to not pollute the earth any further with your offspring. To Pippi and Utah! Blowjobs are $20 on the corner of Cherry and 3^rd.”

~~~Stream of Consciousness

I have a sinus infection. I get them when I smoke too much.

Thrice I have quit this year due to the ailments, and thrice I have started again once the ailment has ceased.

The infection causes me to snore.

Snorri Sturluson was an Icelandic writer from the 12^th Century. He wrote tales about Viking conquests. I read one. I remember the line “he smote him with great smiting.” Smiting was big to Snorri.

I had to read the book as part of a college history class. The TA for the class was a girl with dark hair and beautiful eyes. She was a Medieval History major, and rather fond of me, I think (in my male delusional way). I did not want a relationship at that time, but I do wonder what it might be like to be with someone with an arcane passion for obscure knowledge.

Where is she now? What does one do with a degree in Medieval History? Does she run tours at an ancient Scottish castle? Does she compile volumes of text in a dark underground library somewhere? Does she teach? At which school?

I imagine it to be some old prestigious school in New England. Something where old men with grim faces and narrow judgment fill the positions of power. And they feel justified in their arrogance because that power is what they feel life is about.

But I suppose that it is naïveté to think that the entire world is not ruled by old men with grim faces and narrow judgment.

Snorri wrote about King Harald Hardradi of Norway, who died at Stamford Bridge in Yorkshire when he tried to lay claim to the English throne. A man named Stein Herdisarson composed a poem about King Harald that contained these beautiful verses about the English campaign:

Waltheof’s warriors | All lay fallen | In the swampy water, | Gashed by weapons; | And the hardy | Men of Norway | Could cross the marsh | On a causeway of corpses.

Causeway of Corpses. If I ever start a band, that is what it shall be called.

Of course, I won’t be starting a band. I’m 35. Tomorrow, I go to Blue’s son’s graduation party. Blue is younger than me. And I was old enough to vote when his baby son peed on my shoe from across the room (whilst getting his diaper changed).

What arc! What distance! Blue and I just sat and watched the stream in amazement, oblivious to the fact that perhaps one of us should do something about the urination hitting the carpet.

Besides, I can’t play any instruments and I can’t sing. My best contribution would be to stare blankly into space. I suppose that could be art.

I like vanilla ice cream.

~~~Hiko’s Song of the Week

So What by Ministry

Heard this one on Squizz (the XM Alternative/Metal station) the other day, and was reminded of what a fantastic song it is. In fact, the whole CD – The Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Taste – is quite good. It even includes a song from the epic 1993 cinematic masterpiece Vampires Are (about three of you will laugh at that).

Hard to believe it came out way back in ’89. Gawd, that’s frightening.

“Some people think newspapers exaggerate juvenile crime. All that is defined mostly to the large cities, juvenile delinquency is underlined. Thus parents think something is going wrong with the environment. Adults create the world children live in. Juvenile delinquency is always rooted in adult delinquency. And in this process, parents play the key role when children grow up among adults who refuse to recognize anything that is fine and good, or worthy of respect."

And then a lot of stuff about Kill, Kill, Die, Die. Angry buggers, they.