Kick Out the Sports!
by Bob Cook

Bob Cook's weekly ruminations on sports appear Mondays in Flak.

You go to a used car lot. It has three cars. The first is a 2000 Mercedes E-Class in like-new condition priced at about $35,000. Next is a 1999 Lexus LS 400, driven only by a little old lady to church on Sundays, the dealer says, for $30,000. Last is a 1987 Ford Escort with a cracked engine block, missing floorboards, no headlights, a trunk that won't close, a wasp's nest in the tailpipe and a color scheme of mostly Bondo patches. It's $100,000.

Which car do you choose? If it's the Escort, congratulations — you have what it takes to be an NBA general manager!

July 1 is the start of the NBA free agent and trading period, and the most desirable player among GMs isn't Jason Kidd, who willed the semi-talented New Jersey Nets to two straight finals, or budding star Jermaine O'Neal, but broken-down Terrell Brandon, the 1987 bombed-out Escort of pro basketball players.

At least a half-dozen teams are said to have an interest in Minnesota Timberwolves guard Brandon, a 5-foot-11 former All-Star who, because of injury, has played more than 50 games in the league's 82-game season only twice since 1997. Thanks to a fractured left femur, he hasn't played a minute since Feb. 2, 2002. The Timberwolves' website sums up his recent contributions quite nicely by listing his 2002-03 statistics as "null." Brandon is in such bad shape he reportedly has no interest in playing again, although he hasn't announced his retirement, not with the paychecks still coming.

But in the NBA, players aren't traded — contracts are. Simply put, if you can hold on to the Escort for as little time as possible, that will enable you the right to buy, soon enough, the Mercedes and the Lexus. And as contracts go, Brandon is a classic Testarossa.

Here's an example of why a team would want Brandon: The Indiana Pacers have three free agents they'd like to re-sign: the aforementioned O'Neal, All-Star center Brad Miller and franchise standard-bearer Reggie Miller. The NBA has a salary cap, but teams are free to go over the cap to sign their own players. The NBA, however, also has a luxury tax on teams that spend too much. The tax, which fluctuates from season to season, is likely to kick in at about $52 million. The Pacers already have $38 million in contract commitments for 2003-04. O'Neal alone would put them close to the luxury tax, which requires teams to match dollar for dollar what they overpay as a way to keep the sport from having its version of the New York Yankees. Part of the reason the Lakers faded into playoff mediocrity was their owner's unwillingness to exceed the luxury tax threshold to get support for Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe Bryant.

When trading in the NBA, you must essentially match salaries; a $12 million player like Brandon would have to be sent off for an equivalent dollar value of player or players. That is particularly desirable if, like Indiana, you want to unload pricey dead weight to free up salary room, in exchange for a player like Brandon who only has one year remaining on his contract. But it wouldn't accomplish the Pacers' goal of clearing salary room now.

But here's the catch that makes Brandon so desirable: Under NBA rules, a player who is injured has his contract nullified two years after his injury date, if he hasn't played in the interim. So by having a $12 million contract that vanishes in midseason, Brandon's team would take his salary off the books before the end of the season, and it wouldn't count toward the salary cap number. In the Pacers' case, it would mean they've essentially traded down to $26 million, giving them room to sign all three free agents. (It also helps that 80 percent of Brandon's contract would be covered by insurance, which teams typically buy to cover themselves if their stars become injured.)

Make sense? Probably not. This convoluted system is the price NBA fans pay to keep salaries down and give every team the means to sign good players, so the trading system isn't as boring and predictable as watching the Yankees acquire every good baseball player, or the Detroit Red Wings loading up on the NHL's elite every off-season.

Still, it's not exactly the kind of system that gets fans storming the box office. But maybe it would be if the Pacers had Brandon and his agent in a booth every home game so fans could thank them for their part in keeping O'Neal and the two Millers around. Or maybe if there was a contest in which a fan got to sit in the empty seat on the bench normally occupied by a functioning player.

Or whichever team acquires Brandon could put outside the arena one of those crashed 1987 Escorts you see at your high school to warn you not to drink and drive to your prom, except it would have a sign on it that says, "The best $12 million we ever spent."

E-mail Bob Cook at bobc@flakmag.com.