That "do-or-die" moment is a strike

There is a hope, admittedly underfed, that the NBA's new insistence on obsessing over every spent penny will result in a rising valuation of the league's middle-class.

Maybe, with so many franchises scowling at adding multiple maximum contracts to the ledger, the remaining salary cap space will sort of trickle down to line the pockets of those doing just as much lifting as the stars, save for raising their strong arm to endorse checks from national sponsors. Lengthy and available agreements for NBA's class in the middle, the group between the stars and those left on the fringes.

This is stupid, I agree, the savings aren't savings at all and they only return to team's owner. With a little left over for the team's top-salaried star, because we gotta reward his steady hand and square jaw leadership amid all the cost-cutting, he's a real CEO-type.

The NBA got its hard salary cap during the last round of collective bargaining negotiations with the players, whatever afternoon that was. It isn't officially an unbreakable ceiling even if teams treat it as such, owners are allowed to spend into the second tax apron. The Knicks owner, a real piece, recently compared spending money past the second tax apron on basketball players to a word we learned a decade ago demonetizes YouTube videos.

The otherwise reliably-silent Knicks owner is inspired into these sorts of statements because the owners are a united front at the moment. Disparate, hedge dork dirtbags, for suresies, bringing in billions with everything from drones to MLM dregs to draining retirees savings via the deathly drawbridge arm of a slot machine. A cooperative nevertheless, in response to its single, green, issue.