Scene: Summer, 2012. A large boardroom in a New York hotel. It's a fancy room, with oak-paneled walls, cathedral-style windows, and an ornate rotating fan spinning overhead. A handwritten sign taped to the door reads: “NHL/NHLPA Super-Secret Bargaining Session.” On one side of the room sit various NHL players; on the other, several owners and team executives. Commissioner Gary Bettman and NHLPA head Donald Fehr share a podium at the front of the room.
Bettman: Can I have everyone's attention? I think it's time we get started.
Everyone settles into their seats and the room falls silent.
Bettman: OK, as we all know the current collective bargaining agreement is set to expire in September. Now, last time we had to negotiate a new CBA was back in 2004 and, it … uh … didn't go so well.
Grumbles in the audience.
Bettman: But that was then and this is now! And Donald and I both believe we can get a deal done if we can all get on the same page early.
Donald Fehr: I completely agree, Gary. We're here in the spirit of full cooperation, so let's roll up our sleeves and get to work!
Bettman: Great. OK, you know what, I'm having trouble seeing everyone. I think it would make more sense if maybe we moved that row of chairs over a bit so that we could all …
An angry murmur immediately spreads through the players.
Bettman: What? What did I say?
Brendan Shanahan (stepping forward): Uh, moving things around like that could be considered realignment. You need the players' permission first.
Bettman: Oh for …
The players quickly huddle up around Donald Fehr.
Bettman: It was a simple common-sense suggestion.
The players return from their huddle.
Fehr: We think everything is just fine the way it is now.
Bettman (sighing): No, it's not “just fine.” Look, we have all the Winnipeg guys sitting out in the hallway. That doesn't even make sense.
Winnipeg players (muffled, from the hallway): Sure it does!
Fehr: Look, Gary, why don't you and the owners just move on to explaining your main issue with the current CBA?
Bettman: OK, sure. Basically, we need a system that will protect owners from runaway salary inflation that could potentially damage their team's viability.
Shanahan: Uh, Gary …
Bettman: Hold on, Brendan. Like I was saying, we need the players to help us create a system where overall spending is tightly controlled, and where we all—
Shanahan: Gary?
Bettman: Not now, I'm on a roll. The players need to understand that the current system makes it simply impossible for the owners to have any control over the …
Bettman pauses.
Bettman: Is something burning?
Shanahan nudges Bettman and directs his attention to the owners' side of the room, where a large bonfire is now burning on the floor.
Bettman: Is that … is that a big pile of money?
Owners: No!
Bettman stares disapprovingly.
Owners (sheepishly): Yes.
Bettman (under his breath): Guys, we've talked about this. Why did you light a big pile of money on fire?
Sabres' owner Terry Pegula approaches, wearing a welding mask and holding a blowtorch.
Pegula: I don't know. All this talk of fiscal responsibility was getting kind of boring, so we all decided it would be fun to start setting our money on fire.
Bettman: All of you?
Pegula: Yeah. Well, except for the New Jersey guys. They're not having much luck.
Everyone looks over at the members of the Devils ownership group, who are unsuccessfully waving a lit match under a nickel.
Bettman: Wonderful.
Fehr: You see, Gary, this is the point we keep trying to make. The owners always want the players to make more concessions and agree to more restrictive rules, when all you guys need to do is just show some discipline and have each team stay within its means.
Bettman: It's not always that simple, Donald.
Fehr: It's not? Hey Olli, could you introduce yourself?
Olli Jokinen: Hi, my name is Olli Jokinen. I'm a borderline top-six forward who has never really lived up to expectations. I'm scheduled to be an unrestricted free agent this summer, so I'll be—
Jokinen is interrupted by the owners, who immediately start squealing and throwing wadded-up bills at him.
Fehr: See?
Bettman: OK, that's one example.
Fehr: Pavel?
Pavel Kubina: Hi, I'm a defenseman in his mid-thirties whose best years are well behind him. I was a healthy scratch in the playoffs, and I'll also be an unrestricted free agent if nobody—
Kubina is interrupted when a dump truck backs into the room and buries him under a pile of money.
Shea Weber: Wow, this is amazing!
Weber excitedly rushes to the front of the room.
Weber: Hi, everyone! I'm arguably the best defenseman in the entire league, and I'm still in my prime. I'll be a restricted free agent, so I can sign an offer sheet with absolutely anyone!
The room falls silent. A tumbleweed blows by.
Weber: OH, COME ON!
Bettman (drumming his fingers innocently): Gosh, what an odd coincidence how that keeps happening.
Fehr: Yes, very odd.
Bettman: While we're at it, the owners are also demanding that we do something about long-term contracts. These front-loaded contracts for double-digit years have to end.
Fehr: What exactly is the issue with those deals?
Bettman: They circumvent the spirit of the salary cap, and what's worse, they upset competitive balance.
Paul Holmgrem (leaping to his feet): Yeah! The Flyers were stuck with both Mike Richards and Jeff Carter on long-term deals, and we had to trade them both so we could finally try to contend for a championship!
Bettman: Um, Paul …
Holmgrem: I mean, how could you ever win anything when you're stuck with two guys like that?
Everyone stares at him uncomfortably.
Holmgrem (eventually): I've been in the bathroom for three months. Did I miss anything?
Bettman: Um … we'll get you caught up later.
Holmgrem: Cool. By the way, the men's room is out of toilet paper.
Pegula (producing a roll of thousand-dollar bills): I'll take care of it.
Fehr: Sorry, Gary, no deal. The players have to look out for their best interests.
Bettman: Well, Donald, the owners need to look out for our best interests.
Bettman and Fehr go nose-to-nose.
Fehr: Players!
Bettman: Owners!
Shanahan: Hey, does anyone else get the weird feeling that we're forgetting somebody in all of this?
Fehr: Players!
Bettman: Owners!
Shanahan: I just can't quite put my finger on it …
There's a sudden crash as the large rotating fan plummets to the floor in the center of the room.
Shanahan: Wow, that fan is just completely devastated!
Shanahan realizes that nobody else even noticed.
Shanahan: Um, guys?
The players are busy frolicking in the dump truck full of money. The owners are feeding the contents of their wallets into a shredder to see who can make the biggest pile. Bettman and Fehr, now wearing war paint, are circling each other menacingly.
Shanahan: Hmmm …
Shanahan stares at the fan. Or, to put it more accurately, the ex-fan.
Shanahan: Oh well, I'm sure it's not all that important.