NBA at the Crossroads

The NBA and its players appear unable to reach an agreement on the terms and conditions of labor. A number of proposals have been rejected. From available reports, the primary difference appears to center around the division of income. I suspect, however, that the division of income forms only part of the dispute; the owners have been seeking some very fundamental alterations in the structure of the league, including limits on individual salaries, terminable contracts, and a tightened salary cap. But even if the popular reports are correct and the revenue split is all that stands in the way of an agreement, the fact that the sides have been unable to arrive at satisfying division implies more is at work than simply recalculating percentages.

What could be emerging in the NBA is a complete re-working of league arrangements. The NBA, like most professional sports leagues, embodies a delicate balance between owners with profitable teams and those without, between players paid huge sums and those paid much less, and between agents on the inside and those on the out. There are a lot of moving parts here, and the threat of union decertification that has emerged in the last few weeks suggests that the whole edifice may be about to crash to the ground.

I suspect there is something important going on with the talk by players of decertification. As we've seen recently with the NFL, the usual purpose of decertification is to unleash an antitrust suit against the owners. But it appears that the NBA players who are pushing for decertification may not be targeting the owners. They may be targeting the union.

1. As a formal matter, decertification ends the union, after a period of time. With the end of the union comes the end of the owners' collective exemption from antitrust law. This means that the owners' ability to act jointly in setting the terms and conditions of labor would then be subject to antitrust scrutiny. Although the owners have some very good arguments to justify their collective action, the fact of the matter is that sports owners in general have not done well at the bar of justice. If these hypothetical antitrust suits were to be filed and proceed all the way to the merits, the owners could find many of their questionable labor practices ended, including the rookie draft, salary restrictions, including maximum salaries and the cap, and limitations on freedom of movement by both players and franchises. Decertification could radically change the league.

2. So decertification does provide a means to attack restrictions imposed by owners, albeit by a very long-term and unpredictable process. But decertification provides this means by eliminating the union. Might the intermediate step be the real goal? Might the players be better off without a union?

3. It depends on the player. Like other unions, the NBPA is organized around the principle of "one member, one vote." Each player's vote counts the same. This practice can be problematic in any union where members might have significantly disparate interests. Salary and tenure in professional sports varies markedly among players. In the NBA, star players typically make several times the salary of the journeyman. Arguably, the stars could make even more. The NBA is a league of stars, and with only a few players on the court at a time, stars determine winners and losers. Despite the salience of stars, NBA teams have deep rosters, high minimum wages, and carefully negotiated salary cap exceptions. All of these features are designed to funnel higher wages to veteran, league-average players. Thus, a lot of the money putatively earned by the stars is allocated to average players. The union exists for its majority, and the union's business is to redirect money that would go to stars toward the union rank and file. In a workplace situation where salaries are so disparate, such an arrangement is a powderkeg.

4. The owners have a similar predicament. Most businesses are organized in such a way that the person who has the largest stake in the business is accorded the most control. Someone who owns 70% of a corporation, for instance, will not expect merely "one vote" among other owners in setting the course of the enterprise. Yet that's exactly how the NBA, like other sports leagues, is arranged. The teams that generate the most revenue and thus keep the league afloat are given no more say in running the league than is the most inefficient, money-losing owner of the worst franchise. "One member, one vote" is not only an odd way to run a business; it condemns the league's owners to a perduring state of squabbling among the wealthy and the poor. And the squabble has a theme: the poor want to take from the rich. The small-market owners want the big-market owners to send them a cut of their revenues. Because the owners need to be sure that any revenue-sharing arrangement is protected from antitrust attack, the owners use the periodic reopening of the collective bargaining agreement as an opportunity to reset revenue sharing agreement. Every labor battle contains an "owner battle" too. Like star players, highly profitable owners chafe in having to share their earnings with their less-productive brethren.

5. So the existence of the union sets up a class battle of the haves and have-nots (granted, among wealthy people). The practice of "one member, one vote" means the have-nots among both players and owners outnumber the haves, and will use the collective bargaining process to increase their earnings. Yet it doesn't have to be this way. It is not written in stone that professional athletes must be represented by a union. Might the stars have had enough? Lebron James is paid only 13 million dollars per year (yes, not bad). But that's 13 million per year for 82 games plus another pile of playoff games. On an open market, his salary would likely increase by several times. (For evidence, ten years ago, without a salary cap and without free agency, Michael Jordan was paid a salary over 30 million per year for a similar slate of performances.) The star players, and the "star" franchises, are leaving a lot of money on the table. I can't imagine that sits too well with them, all this talk about unity and brotherhood notwithstanding.

6. Which finally brings us to the agents. They have been mostly invisible during the entire labor dispute. Yet they bear, as usual, the brunt of media displeasure, being blamed for fueling the complaints of the star players, holding up union approval, and generally standing in the way of the return of NBA basketball. (I don't see why it's wrong or nefarious for an agent to advise a star player that the player could significantly increase his earnings if only the union gave greater deference to the stars who generate most of the profits.) The process would be smoother if the agents were given a place at the table. The view that the agent is paid by the player and has interests that dovetail with the player is antiquated. The word "agent" is a misnomer. It is more realistic today to think of sports agents as placement professionals (the ubiquitous "headhunters" that are common in white-collar occupations). Sports agents represent numerous clients with similar skills who seek a limited number of positions. Although the agent answers to the player (and the union), their salary comes from the money paid by the team. (Some headhunters are paid directly by the business.) If there were no agents, it is probably not the case that all of the agents' salaries would go to an increase in player salary; at least with respect to the journeyman, league-average player, that savings would likely accrue to the team. Thus, for these players, agent salaries are paid by the team, in effect. Why shouldn't the agents negotiate the terms of their salary?

By bringing the agents directly into the process, the NBA would have a better chance at finding a place of provisional repose among its many competing elements.

NFL Players Sell the Rookies Short

Although details remain undisclosed, it appears the new NFL/NFLPA collective bargaining agreement will contain a substantial limitation on the terms of rookie salaries, especially at the top of the draft. This development is troublesome to me, but to others seems to be a point of celebration. I suspect the players association simply didn't care much about the rookies and were oblivious or even dismissive of their best interests. But not even the media or other commentators appear to care about the rookies either. All seemed to agree that the rookie wages were "too high" and "should" be transferred to the pockets of other players. All seem happy that veteran players and team owners reached an agreement to reduce the salaries of players not yet in the league and not yet part of the union. Why do we celebrate this? We should call the police.

Am I the only person alive who cares about children?

1. Start with the unchecked presumption that there is something wrong with a salary structure that lavishes high salaries on very high rookie draft picks. This money, we've been told forever, "should" go to veteran players who have proved themselves, not to these green, ungrateful kids. Repeatedly we're told the story of the high draft pick who earns a large salary but flops in the league. Yes, that episode is a concern. But what about the larger problem, that of the veteran player who gets his large, front-loaded contract and proceeds to lose interest in football? Why don't the union and the owners conspire to take his money away too?

2. It's simply untrue to claim that rookies drafted in the top of the first round are overpaid. They've been drafted in the top of the first round! They've just won a huge tournament, one for which they've been competing since they first put aside the flag belt and put on real football pads. Their stellar play has earned them fans. They will attract attention to the team, like any new acquisition. They show the team's fans that the team has a chance to improve. Assuming your team is a losing one (and thus likely is awarded a high pick), would you rather have your favorite team re-sign one of its veterans (one of the players who contributed to the losing season) or take an educated chance on landing a new star? Top rookies draw fans and generate hope for the franchise.

3. Football is a young man's game. Yet the rookies, bound by dubious interpretations of federal labor laws to be "represented" by a union they are not yet eligible to join, have money taken out of their pocket by the veterans who control the players association. Why is no one writing that story? Why do the media and commentators swallow without question the union line that trumpets seniority over apprenticeship? If veterans are so valuable, then why aren't teams happy to give up their first-round draft picks for aging stars? Why did star receiver Randy Moss, even in the prime of his career, get traded for a fourth-round draft pick? Because high-round rookies are more valuable than veterans! Yet the media continues to think that Randy Moss was worth far more than a mid-round pick, and that somehow the Patriots "stole" him from the misguided Raiders. It's not the Raiders who are misguided, it's the football media that thinks that veterans are worth more than rookies! Tell me again why the veterans should take the rookies' money?

4. One consequence of the rookie wage scale will be a disappearance of the professional sports agent from the scene. With the contract terms for rookies set in the CBA in both salary and years, there will be little left for the agent to do. If this prediction comes true, this will be a problem. Rookies are very young adults. What they need, as they while away their last years of formal education, is help making the important, impactful decision about whether and when to turn professional. Draft status is huge. Today, agents fill that need. Tomorrow, not so much. How would you like a system that forces you to give up your present occupation (college education, by extension) before you are able to find out if someone else will hire you? Most of us like to have our landing spot secure before we tell the boss to get lost. College kids now will have to take a large jump into the unknown, unaided.

5. Keep in mind that the draft system limits player salaries already. A college player who is drafted may negotiate salary with only one potential employer, unlike the rest of us who can negotiate salary with every employer who has an interest. Although the team that drafts a player is under great pressure to sign the player, lest the valuable asset of the draft pick be wasted, on balance the team has the drafted rookie over the barrel. A rookie who declines the team's best offer can forget about playing professional football, a career for which he's been training most of his life. So, the better argument is probably that salaries for the best rookies, high as they were, are probably smaller than the market would pay without a draft.

Now they will be smaller still.

Why The NBA Labor Fight Will Be A Doozy

I enjoyed the chance the other day to speak with a magazine writer about the impending NBA lockout. Time permitting, I'm happy to oblige. In our conversation we reviewed the basic issues in the NBA labor-management discussions and their likelihood of resolution. But what troubled me was his last question, for which I admitted not having an answer. Why, he wondered, is the current NFL lockout receiving so much more public attention than the NBA's labor troubles? Why the apparent disparity in media coverage? Does the NFL situation raise more issues, perhaps as a legal matter, than does the NBA's predicament?

No, in fact, less. Comparatively speaking, the NFL labor negotiations should be child's play. The NFL owners already have their league set up in a way they like. But it's the owners of the NBA who are deeply dissatisfied. They are hoping to remake the structure of their league in a very fundamental way. It's the NBA situation, not the NFL's, that should garner most of the media attention and cause worry among sports fans.

Let's break this lockout down, pre-game style.

1. Start with the NFL. From an owner's perspective, the basic labor structure of the league is golden. Player contracts are not guaranteed, meaning that players may be cut at several junctures throughout the NFL year with little financial obligation, short of an injury settlement. Teams operate under a "hard cap" that ensures spending parity among teams. Vigorous sharing among teams of revenue from nearly all sources results in a unified, cohesive and nearly foolproof means of sustaining operations and making a profit. Add in beautiful cheerleaders, huge public exposure, lavish media attention and glistening luxury boxes and, well, it's good to be an NFL owner.

2. So why do we have an NFL lockout? What's the big beef? Not much. There are a few pimples left on the fanny of NFL progress to be sure. The owners want to address inordinate rookie salaries at the top of the draft, to resolve complaints about health care for retired players, and to knock a percentage point or two off the current split of revenue with the players. But none of these seem large enough, even in combination, to justify such a significant labor action as the current lockout. I'm convinced that the owners' beef at this time isn't really with the players or the players association. The owners beef is with themselves. The financially successful teams are tired of subsidizing the financial losers. The NFL's insistent and pervasive approach to revenue sharing is simply irksome to certain owners, like Jerry Jones of the Cowboys and Dan Snyder of the Washington team. Implicitly, revenue sharing rewards failure and penalizes profitability. Yet the only way owners can try to adjust extant revenue sharing provisions is to rewrite the document that contains them, the Collective Bargaining Agreement. And the only way to rewrite the CBA is to let it expire (done) and then negotiate a new one with the players. It's odd, but the owners have to lock out the players in order to renegotiate among themselves.

3. So the NFL lockout in theory should be easy to resolve. The owners have to devise a more acceptable formula for revenue sharing, perhaps including a reduction in overall player compensation to make up for some of the shortfall. But that's it, the lockout is just about money, and for the NFL, there's plenty of that to go around.

4. Things look different in the NBA. It appears the league is not awash in money. The owners have tried to make the public case that they are collectively losing money and that those losses are substantial. Indeed, if the NBA is to be believed, it loses more as a league in total than the entire amount the NFL designates as "revenue sharing" among its teams. So, if the NFL is willing to risk adverse public reaction and experience a prolonged labor battle over revenue sharing, imagine the lengths to which the comparatively smaller NBA will go with even more at stake. The NBA is not asking its players association to give back a small portion of salaries to iron out revenue sharing. Instead, the NBA wants to become the NFL. It wants a hard salary cap, an end to the various cap exceptions, increased revenue sharing, and an overall diminishment in league-wide player compensation. These are big issues that involve changes to the fundamental relationship between players and teams.

5. If the NFL owners are serious about these fundamental changes, and it appears they are, then the players will dig in for a protracted fight. The NBPA is not the NFLPA. The football players union has a sketchy history. Members crossed the picket line with regularity during the last NFL interruption in 1987 and who would likely do so again. That the NFL owners hold the upper hand in their negotiations is beyond dispute. But in the NBA, it's a players league. The players are very well paid, and all but the most profligate should be able to withstand even a significant job action. (For the liberal spenders, they might be able to sign with a foreign league to help make ends meet during the lockout.) The players are also tight, having grown up together playing all-star level basketball and commonly hanging out together after games. This is not the NFL, where players will do nearly anything to win the competition among their teammates to get on the field, and then to win the on-field competition for victory and its spoils. This is the NBA, clubby, tight, and friendly. If the owners want a fight, these players will stick together and give it to them.

6. And they will fight, as will the owners, over the one issue that most animates both sides. Above all, this is the key issue in the NBA labor battle. The issue is the guaranteed contract. Take Rashard Lewis of the Washington Wizards. (Take him, please!, beg the owners.) Lewis is at best a journeyman pro. He is also the second-highest paid player in the league. For the owners, Lewis embodies all that is wrong with the league, where such a mediocre player draws such huge compensation and the owners are powerless to change it. Devoting large compensation to underperforming employees is hardly the ideal business model. For the players, Lewis is the poster child for the good life. A few quality seasons, well-timed with impending free-agency, landed Lewis one of the richest contracts in the sport. This contract ensures him against bad play, poor coaching, or injury, and sets him up financially for life. NBA players have long grown accustomed to teammates with bloated guaranteed contracts sitting on the bench. To them, the situation is not troubling; it's inspiring.

7. So forget about the NFL lockout. That will get fixed soon. Instead, keep your eye on the donnybrook just getting started on the NBA side. If the owners are to ever impose such radical changes in the structure of the sport, if the NBA is to become the NFL in terms of labor relations, then the NBA may have to emulate its brother league. Not the NFL, but the NHL. The NHL had to sacrifice an entire season to bring about fundamental, structural changes in player relations. So might our other favorite winter sport, I'm afraid.

More on Online Poker

Nobody's very happy about the indictments over online poker. I was a guest this morning on NPR's "On Point" program, hosted by Tom Ashbrook. I repeated the same themes about "state-by-state" regulation. I think we look in vain for a single, national resolution to this issue.

Here's Tom's website. Follow the link to "listen to this show" to hear the discussion.

Online Poker Will Come Again

Yesterday I did a podcast with Chad Millman of ESPN. You can listen to the conversation here. (It's also available on itunes.) We talked about the indictment of the officers of three of the major online poker operators, including Full Tilt and Poker Stars. Basically I try to make the point that, despite the indictments, online poker is legal in many states, and could soon be in several more. Once online operators realize that federal law prohibits only those games that are unlawful under state law, then the operators should resume offering online poker to U.S. citizens who live or happen to be in one of those states. Once the market is large enough (that is, once it includes California), then we'll have a significant online poker presence in the US again.

I also argue that the DOJ overreached with this indictment. It's a nice discussion. My thanks once again to Chad Millman for the opportunity.

Why An NFL Lockout Makes Sense

The coverage on the impending NFL labor battle sounds a single theme. The story goes something like this: that if only these greedy and dumb billionaires (the owners) and greedy and dumb millionaires (the players) acted reasonably (in other words, if only they were as generous and smart as the rest of us), we'd have a new NFL labor agreement. If only for once these spoiled rich people would think of the good of the game and the needs of the fans, then all would be well.

Does that account seem sufficient? Is "greedy/dumb" the best explanation we can come up with for why the nation's most popular sports league seems about to shoot itself in the foot? The common story seems a bit glib, even dismissive.

Before we conclude someone's acting irrationally, we observers should first see if we can come up with a rational explanation. Why would the NFL owners and the players rationally choose to take the league into a labor crisis? Given that similar labor battles nearly put the NHL into a death spiral and forever blemished MLB's World Series, how can a work stoppage be desirable? What are these people thinking?

They are thinking rationally. At this point in time, it serves the interests of the NFL owners to lock the players out. A labor fight also serves the interests of the NFLPA. Believe it or not, a labor struggle might also serve the rational interests of the fan. That's what I'm rooting for. Let's not have any football in 2011!

1. Let's start with the owners. It's pretty obvious they believe the last collective bargaining agreement was flawed from the start, even as they voted to adopt it. Then-commissioner Paul Tagliabue's lengthy seventeen-year tenure had established immense credibility that he relied on in his final act in selling the labor deal to reluctant owners. In effect, Tagliabue's generous revenue-sharing deal with the players bought labor peace. He succeeded in avoiding the debacles that had recently plagued other professional leagues. But he also lit a time bomb that will soon burn to the end of the fuse.

2. Given their unhappiness with the last deal, the owners have to lock the players out at the outset of next season. It's the only rational move to make. Staging an NFL season involves huge outlays of money by the owners and their licensees. The itemized list is nearly endless, and includes salaries for players, team officials and staff, game officials and others, plus expenses for stadium use and other physical plant. Add in the costs for contracted licensees, including broadcast, merchandise and concessions companies, and the picture grows larger. For sure the NFL and its licensees make some money back as the season goes along. But all the investments are made with an eye to the big payback, the Super Bowl playoffs, the tournament that caps the season and drives the television ratings and advertising revenue. Why would fans care about a regular season if there were to be no crowned champion? If the owners don't lock out the players, they will risk all their substantial investments on a Super Bowl tournament that may never happen. If the owners fail to lock the players out, they in effect give the upper hand to . . .

3. The players. The players association got the benefit of the "Tagliabue payoff" last go round and have long known this fight was coming. Their new chief, DeMaurice Smith, seems exactly the kind of combative and determined union leader who will push the players' side as much as he can. Imagine if the owners decide not to lock the players out for 2011, proceeding to invest in the coming season without the benefit of a labor contract. Smith would time a strike, or at least the threat of one, at the most propitious time. Much like the MLBPA struck and thus precluded a World Series in 1994, Smith could threaten to dismantle the single most compelling and lucrative day in the sports calendar, Super Bowl Sunday. The owners cannot give the union such immense bargaining leverage.

4. The NFLPA is generally thought to be a relatively weak professional athletes' union. The last time it called a strike, in 1987, member loyalty was erratic. Many NFL stars openly crossed the picket line. Player careers in the NFL are short and pay disparity is large; perhaps those factors account for what appears to be the differing interests of players and the endemic weakness of the players association. Or perhaps union leadership has been lacking. What DeMaurice Smith needs is a stronger union. The selection of Smith, along with some of the strident rhetoric that has come from prominent members, suggests that the NFLPA is trying to mimic the more aggressive leadership style of Major League Baseball's players union. Remember, most of the NFLPA's success as a union during the last century came in courtrooms, not at the bargaining table. To get to the courtroom, the NFLPA has to decertify and then litigate; in other words, the NFLPA in effect has been better off dead. But antitrust litigation is expensive and unpredictable; plus courts are today more agreeable to collective action by employers. The new union leadership should (rationally) want to avoid the courtroom; it should want to enhance member loyalty, improve internal discipline, and hammer out a new CBA from a position of strength. Nothing like a good fight to improve the zeal of the rank and file. At bottom, the NFLPA is spoiling for a fight, and rationally needs one for its own good.

5. And you, Joe Fan, you want a labor fight too. The NFL is a great product, but it's just so expensive to be a fan. It's crazily spendy to see games in person: the costs of tickets, parking, seat licenses, concessions, and the like keeps schoolteachers like me at home. But it's even pricey to watch at home, in a sense, as we free viewers "pay" with our impatient attention to games that feature increasing commercial interruptions, sponsor mentions, and product placements. The NFL even makes its tedious "replay reviews" a chance for commercial sponsorship. I watch very few games live any more, not when I can view a game on my DVR in about 30 minutes. The NFL is just getting too expensive. The game has to reduce costs, and one big cost, the major one actually, is player salaries. Don't think the owners (or the players) are just greedy. The owners are in a very competitive market, probably the most competitive market in contemporary America: the market for your leisure time. Any costs savings the owners can wring from the players will find its way into your pocket, making NFL games more accessible in person and more enjoyable at home.

6. Ssshhh, boom, bah
Player lockout, hurrah!
Cut those costs!
All is not lost!
Don't litigate,
Negotiate!
"Won't be a next year,"
He says, moping,
"Try something new, dear,"
She says, hoping.

The Best of the Year

Here are some of my favorite things from the past year. I'll try to add a word or two of constructive criticism along with my praise, just in the hope of making these favorites even better the next time the sun orbits the earth.

1. The Best Sports Law Blog of 2010
This was a tough one, as obviously I have a horse in the race. So I checked my calculations twice, tried to remain as objective as I could . . . and the winner is . . . The Sports Law Blog! (Darn it. The Sports Law Professor came in 2139th place, in case you were wondering. There's always next year.) The boys at The Sports Law Blog have pretty much become my go-to people for links to new developments, academic articles in the field, and upcoming conferences. There's really no substitute, and I point my browser to the site nearly every day. At times the blog can become a bit self-promotional, but that's an excusable folly. What's less excusable is the habit into which some of the authors have fallen of just raising an issue for discussion and (apparently) hoping for an answer to grow from the comments. That approach may be a way to generate some traffic, but I'd encourage the writers to try for more. Why else take the time to write a blog if not as a forum for your views? (Wait, don't answer that.)

2. The Best New Sports Blog of 2010
Hey, I don't even know if this site is "new" in chronological terms, but it's new to me and this is my blog. (Yes, for you philosophers out there, I'm a radical idealist; nothing exists until I stumble across it.) So I scoured the internet, searching every single server in the world, and have determined that the best new site of the year is . . . Wei Under Par! It provides the insider story of the professional golf tours. Golf is a sport that, as compared to the daily rumor-trading about other important sports, has always been kept buttoned-up. I guess the Tiger Woods fiasco took the wraps off, so to speak, and Wei Under Par shows the golf fan a different side of the great game. The writer (Stephanie Wei) has a clever way of mixing in photos, comments and some genuine reporting to present a fun, quick package. Wei is also cute as a button and spreads plenty of photos of herself on the page, which I suspect is part of the draw. (We at TSLP are considering a similar marketing strategy for next year. May I take photos of Wei off her site and put them on mine?)

3. The Best Sports Magazine of the Year

No contest here, Sports Illustrated has solidified its traditional spot as the king of the general-interest sports magazine. For a few years, a few years ago, SI had become predictable, and had clearly dumbed-down its writing and its subjects. Yet the advent of a strongly edited competitor (ESPN The Magazine) has had a good effect on SI. (I suspect SI initially tried to answer the competitive challenge issued by ESPN by trying to appear more hip and youth-oriented; I don't know.) The magazine seems to this long-time reader to have regained its more literate voice. It is also devoting more of its pages to that which it does best: lengthy articles on the trends in the game, the controversies or scandals surrounding it, or the stories on the redemptive (or tragic) power of sports. I'm glad the experiment with style over substance is ending; I'll be happier when it's over. With all that said, the magazine disappoints recently with its consistently mawkish, leftist, and obvious political tone. The back page editorial is the worst; only Phil Taylor ever gives due regard to what might be considered the opposition view. It worries me that the moralists who inhabit SI's pages seem either unwilling to give (or worse, incapable of giving) due regard to the very substantial arguments that might slow down their rush to a sanctimonious conclusion. For example, a few weeks ago Sports Illustrated published what looked like a Cliff Notes version of the plaintiff's brief in the antitrust case against the BCS. Couldn't the writer have at least called one of the many BCS defenders (or me, if no competent person were available) to make the reader aware that the BCS has some compelling arguments in its favor too?

4. The Best Great Novel of the Year
I mean, wow, I'm sorry about this, but my sense of propriety had long made me shy away from ever reading Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov. I have owned the book forever, but couldn't bring myself to walk around the house with it, owing to the racy art on the cover and the famously scandalous subject matter. (Yes, I blush easily.) But finally, at the end of last summer and looking for a study break, I finally felt mature enough to turn to the first page. Lo-li-tah, a trip of three steps down the palate. What a book. What an incredible piece of writing. It's a thrill and humbling, all at the same time. That's all; I'm not an English major.

5. The Best Sports Television Show
None. Not one show merited this prestigious, coveted award. In past years I had given this prize to Pardon the Interruption, but that show has slowly morphed into a slightly more thoughtful version of its competitors: increasingly louder, more abrasive, more concerned with the gag or the schtick than with actually saying something about the subject. The show has gone from unmissable to unwatchable. The gimmick where some fellow "scores" the hosts on their comments is just annoying. Here's my constructive criticism: Stop It! Get rid of all the silliness (it doesn't work and at best is stale) and just present two thoughtful commentators debating sports and you'll be back.

6. The Best New Sports Documentary Series By a Worldwide Leader
I guess ESPN's 30 for 30 wins. I didn't see all the documentaries in the series but watched enough of them to bestow the top honor in the category. The good part: the series represents an ambitious project, and ESPN must be commended for devoting so much time and money to programming it most likely does not need. Most of the programs have been good, a few even riveting. Sports has long been a perfect subject for documentaries. The story usually has a denouement (victory on the field), with lots of happenings off-field (obstacles to overcome) to fuel the film. Few walks of life present such a ready-made subject matter for documentaries. But the downside of the sports documentary has been evident in many of the 30-for-30 episodes: it's hard to tell an historical, off-the-field story without a lot of narration. The only film footage typically available is the on-field sports action, which works fine for the sports but less so for the off-field stuff. So at times you find yourself watching people talk, which (like my students, I'm sure) I seldom enjoy.

7. The Best of the "30 for 30" Documentaries
I know the general acclaim has been missing for this episode, but I found "Pony Excess," the story of recruiting scandals at SMU, to be stunning. What made the film work was that so many of the interviewed subjects (being sports stars) were interviewed at the same time the scandal was occurring, and (amazingly) gave pretty much the same answers then that they give now. They confessed to the money! In any event, the spectacle of former coaches and boosters admitting without shame or hesitation their direct involvement in paying football players was a shocker to this viewer. Wow, they (and apparently most everybody else) really bought players! Where is the NCAA (today) in all of this? If we're going to chase down Reggie Bush for his college years, why not go after the hundreds of athletes and dozens of schools from the "money era" of college football? Aren't there more trophies to be returned, more wins to be forfeited, and more money to be recouped? Let's get after it!

8. The Best Television Show I Want to See
This is an award I'm giving out preemptively. Dear major television networks, if you will please just spend millions of dollars and create this show, I promise I will give you my award next year. Here's the show: take the late-night talk show format, cross it a bit with Charlie Rose, and focus it on sports! (Thank you, thank you, please sit back down. Please.) Here's the problem with all of today's sports talk shows: the creators think that because viewing sports involves lots of brainless cheering, shouting and quasi-loutish behavior, then so must the show about sports be commensurately riotous. Why? People watch election returns with some of the same emotion as sports but can talk about it dispassionately later on. So here's the show: the genial host (let's call him TSLP) comes out for the opening monologue, offering a few wry observations, jokes and perhaps a humorous video clip or two from the sports world. Then, while the band plays, TSLP gets behind the desk. Over the next hour, divided into three 20-minute segments, comes the evening's guests. The guests would be drawn from star players, industry officials and insiders, and thoughtful commentators (TSLP again!). The discussion would be focused on current controversies and, in the case of star players, some personal issues. Players would adore this; Tom Brady supposedly loved being interviewed on 60 Minutes. The conversation would be thoughtful, interesting, controversial. This show would be great. I don't have a name for it yet (TSLP! is the working title), but everything else is fully conceptualized. Help yourself, ESPN.

9. The Best Coach of the Year
The award so many have been waiting for goes to . . . Bill Belichick, New England Patriots! Congratulations Bill. (We look forward to presenting the award to you at our annual TSLP Awards Dinner in Salem, Oregon. We'll cover your lunch bill if you can pick up the rest.) Why Belichick? I just love the guy. He flat out doesn't care about anything or anybody other than his team. This fact, by the way, is true of all coaches, but unlike everybody else, Belichick shows it! He gives us his honest perspective. He hates the media and makes his disdain evident. He cares not a bit for publicity, or NFL promotions, or playing up the big game, and he shows his lack of care for all to see. Unlike most coaches, Belichick never allows his players to be "miked up" (notice how all the shows reviewing past Super Bowls never include sideline remarks of Patriots' players?); Belichick seldom does routine NFL promo commercials. He just doesn't care. Again, no coaches do. But the media hate Belichick because he is honest in showing his lack of regard. I like people who are that honest. Even in the notorious "Spygate" scandal, Belichick took his medicine and uttered not one public word in his defense. He did once let slip that he thought the rules permitted his taping practices (which interpretation, as I wrote at the time, I agreed with), but that was it. Not another word said. He just doesn't care that he was and continues to be excoriated in the public conversation. You go, Bill.

10. Legal Brief of the Year
Out of the Milwaukee offices of the estimable law firm of Foley & Lardner, with Mssrs. Leffel and McKeown on the brief, comes the TSLP Legal Brief of the Year: the Brief of Economists in the American Needle v. NFL appeal. Here's the link. The amicus brief does an incredible job translating arcane economic concepts to legal prose; more importantly, the analysis is simply correct. How the Supreme Court couldn't have taken quality work like this and given a better, more thoughtful opinion on the case (even one that disagrees with the brief's recommendations) is beyond me. The Court should have answered the brief's arguments, if only to refute them. Answering would have elevated the court's opinion; instead the court ignored the brief. One reads the opinion in American Needle in the same manner one watches a politician make a speech (with which one disagrees) on television: how can Politician X claim everything's better, you mutter to yourself, when (to you) everything's worse? The American Needle opinion reads that way, like a politician preaching to his followers, blithely ignorant that nearly everything that is said in the opinion is conclusory and objectionable. You could have done better, Supreme Court of the United States. The Economists' Brief gave you that opportunity. You missed it.