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End lockout by cutting the cash

Simple is the answer to the National Hockey League lockout which is causing even the most loyal fan to question that loyalty. Pay attention and come along for the ride.

Simple is the answer to the National Hockey League lockout which is causing even the most loyal fan to question that loyalty.

Pay attention and come along for the ride.

First off we have to all agree that what the players make today, well, the big names like Crosby, Stamkos and Nash (sounds like a rock group), is way out of line.

And, in fact, what the owners make – and I don’t buy the fact that even one club really loses money – is also out of whack.

So here’s the deal. The owners get together and agree to slash ticket prices by 60 per cent. They have to decide that making a buck on a hot dog is better than making nothing at all. It would be the same for beer or soft drinks. So that’s probably a 50-per-cent cut. The pavement is already out there, so why not allow free parking for your customers?

So what happens is the players get their 57 per cent of hockey revenue, but 57 per cent of nothing boils down to nothing.

Every single hockey fan, especially the ones who love the game but can’t afford to go, would support this plan with open arms.

The owners, of course, would lose their butts. But there is not an NHL owner, other than the NHL itself and the Phoenix fiasco, who can’t afford to lose money and not have to worry about paying the next mortgage.

They are all mega-rich.

Of course, the players would revolt. So get replacement players and players willing to strut their stuff for a reasonable salary.

Could you not make ends meet at, say, $2 million a year? But $2 million a year is better than the nothing a year they are getting today.

I’m sure we would have to fold the NHL as we know it today and get it all restarted with a commissioner like the current Gary Bettman. But he would have to learn to survive on the same salary as the highest-paid player. Giving this poop-disturber $12 million a year disturbs me.

So welcome to NHL 2. New league, new rules, millions of new fans and no one involved makes more money in one year than most of us will make in a lifetime.

I nominate myself as the new commissioner and also second the motion, and my first duty will be hiring an already-employed lawyer to be my part-time assistant with just one job. And that will be to oversee the owners who have let this thing get out of control with some ridiculous contracts. We have to protect them from themselves.

Take Philadelphia Flyers owner Ed Snider as an example. He allowed his people to offer Shea Weber of Nashville’s Predators a stupid contract of a zillion-millions for more than a decade. Had that deal been completed, the Predators would simply have had to fold. It’s like in the animal kingdom where animals eat their young. And it’s realistic in the world of animals but stupid in real life.

As I said, it’s ever so simple but sometimes you have to take drastic measures to get things rolling on the right tracks.

Now, though, a sad story because it came to light yesterday that the Pillsbury Doughboy died recently of a yeast infection and repeated pokes in the belly. He was buried in a lightly-greased coffin and many turned out to pay their respects including Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours.

In her eulogy Aunt Jemima lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded.

Born and bread in Minnesota he rose quickly in show business but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he was still a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.

He is survived by his wife, Play Dough, three children: John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough, plus they had one in the oven. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

I often wonder who comes up with this stuff but that was certainly cute at least.

My joke today is along the same lines. The couple is at the marriage counsellor who says both should know everything about the other. He asks the husband what his wife’s favorite flower is. He thinks for a minute and then says: “I think its Robin Hood Enriched.” The couple is no longer together despite a plea for a second chance.

Another example of why golf is better than other sports is, pro golfers can’t abuse alcohol and drugs and be successful.