Stern orchestrating situation brilliantly

This NBA lockout reached endgame when David Stern went on a media blitz Thursday.

This wasn't about the fans at all. This was a calculated hit, a measured, careful effort to infiltrate the thoughts of the hundreds of anxious players who were watching, listening and worrying.

This was Stern attempting to deprogram a union membership that no longer appears to be following Billy Hunter, the embattled NBPA executive director, but the combative defiance of a group of influential agents who seem determined to lead this union right off the cliff the way the NHLPA did during their destructive season-long lockout in 2004-05.

"Given the amount of people put out of work by this and given how absolutely vaporizing the 4 percent of our players' compensation is every week, by the end of two weeks, it's going to be $170 million lost,'' Stern said Thursday. "That money will be gone and lost forever, and then the next two weeks will come or the rest of the season, and the same thing will happen.

"Considering what we are arguing about, it's very sad for both our fans, particularly for the employees at the venues and, by the way, particularly for our players as well.''

Stern's strategy, as union president Derek Fisher said Friday, was "with no real purpose but to sway players' sentiment.''

And did it work? After Friday's union meeting in Beverly Hills, Calif., which drew another miniscule turnout, JaVale McGee, the young Washington Wizards center, emerged with the admission that there were "definitely some guys in there saying that they're ready to fold.'' McGee did add that "the majority are willing to stand strong,'' but the former resonated more than the latter.

McGee was rebuked by Fisher, Hunter and several other players. "It was a shame he left so soon," Hunter said. "As it turned out, the pacifists in the room happened to be me and Derek. These guys behind us are extremely strident and they thought we had started to weaken.''

And while he attempted to blame the media for twisting his words, the truth is McGee was not wrong. This is Hunter's greatest concern: that the union will splinter once games are lost and anxiety is created among the players, especially those who don't have Kobe Bryant's bank account.

"If somebody is pointing a gun at my head, I'm going to point one back at him,'' Hunter said Friday about Stern's warning about further lost games. "That door doesn't swing one way. It's not just the players that are going to suffer if there are games lost . . . The pain is mutual. If you're going to inflict pain on the players, then there is some pain inflicted on them as well.''

The players right now are being pulled in many directions. They are being implored to stay loyal to a union that often seems overwhelmed by Stern and Co. in these negotiations. They also are being advised by a group of high-power agents who have no faith in the union leadership and instead see declining commissions in the next deal as a result of Hunter's concession of 4 percent of the revenue split and the potential that he'll give up more.

And then they are subject to ridicule by the fans, who -- through social media, especially Twitter -- have a much more intimate connection to professional athletes than ever before.

Fisher promoted the idea of using Twitter last week to show the players' solidarity by having them tweet the hashtag "LetUsPlay,'' but it backfired terribly as fans and media reminded the seemingly out-of-touch players that they absolutely could play if they would accept that 50-50 deal the league put into play the week before.

No matter how much Hunter and Fisher point to the fact that the union already has agreed to drop their split of the revenue from 57 percent to 53, the common fan is caught up with the idea that a 50-50 split was rejected. Stern brought this concept to the public and looked disappointed that the players wouldn't take it. "I think I could have sold it [to the owners],'' Stern said. "But I didn't get the chance.'' With that, he promptly dumped the weight of its failure on the shoulders of the players.

By definition, 50-50 sounds like a compromise, but in reality, it is a major concession by the players, who would be giving back 7 percent, and a major windfall for the owners, who would be gaining 7 percent.

But on the surface, the casual fan hears that the players rejected a 50-50 concept and finds it inconceivable, deciding that the players are being selfish. At a time when the economy is sputtering, when the average American is struggling and increasingly being priced out of luxuries such as attending an NBA game, the players are hoarding.

And Stern gently stokes the flames by repeating important bullet points in his campaign: The 50-50 split, which would eliminate $300 million-plus in losses by the teams; the owners' decision to give up their effort to get a hard salary cap and negotiate, as Hunter requested, a soft cap with "a punitive tax,'' and the fact that their most recent proposal would have allowed the average player salary to grow from the current $5 million per year to more than $7 million during the deal.

And none of this, Stern says, is enough to the players. They want more.

For the father of three who hasn't gotten a raise in three years, is struggling to make ends meet and still hopes to be able to take his kids to one game a year, this is a breaking point.

In reality, it would be easier to paint the owners as those failing banks looking for a government bailout. But Stern has the brush, and as the sides enter into non-binding mediation Tuesday, he's crafting another public relations masterpiece.