Lockout Punishes Little Guy

[Way Of The Ray <wayray@ix.netcom.com>]

             Lockout punishes little guy

                                 The Arizona Republic
              [David Casstevens] Oct. 17, 1998

             Before and after sporting events, he sits on a stool
             across the street from America West Arena and plays
             his tenor tuba.

             The melodies are familiar, the round notes from the
             brass instrument rich and resonant, mellow as the
             autumn night.

             Passers-by stop and listen, and enjoy.

             Winchester Cathedral. The theme from The Godfather.
             Between tunes, he turns the pages of his laminated
             sheet music, resting on a raised stand.

             Smiling, a woman drops a dollar bill into a tarnished
             loving cup at the musician's feet.

             One evening a fan was drawn to the sounds of the
             soloist performing his sidewalk concert. Approaching,
             he listened as Everett Taylor, dressed not as a
             panhandler but more like a member of an orchestral
             ensemble, in a fresh shirt and white necktie, played
             Ave Maria. Nine songs later, the man fished into his
             pocket and left a $30 tip.

             On Nov. 3 the tuba player won't be at his usual spot
             near Second and Jefferson streets. The Suns were
             scheduled to open the season that night. But because
             of the NBA labor dispute, the arena will be empty. So
             will downtown streets. The first two weeks of the
             season have been canceled.

             The tuba player and other street musicians will go
             elsewhere to supplement their income. "I'll hustle
             pool," said Taylor, who is an accomplished billiards
             player. He will play his euphonium at the State Fair.
             The uniformed vendor stood behind the counter on the
             main level of the arena. He works by the hour, selling
             peanuts, pretzels and beer.

             Business was good at Thursday night's hockey game, but
             the vendor wasn't smiling. The NBA preseason was
             eliminated. Now, the Suns first five regular-season
             games have been scrapped -- about 30 hours of work he
             had been counting on.

             Meanwhile, NBA owners and players argue over how to
             share $2 billion in annual revenue. Union President
             Patrick Ewing, who makes $18 million a year, said NBA
             players "cannot survive" under a hard salary cap.

             The peanut man knows about survival. With no NBA, he
             said, "I'm gonna have to find another job."

             On nights the Coyotes play at home he wears a T-shirt
             that reads, "Give Blood. Play Hockey." In one hand he
             waved a game program. On the other he wore a giant
             foam rubber "Coyote Claw" that sells for $6.

             "Hey, pro-grams! Pro-grams here! Don't be shy!"

             Upbeat, smiling, Jim Bracken hawked his wares as fans
             filed through the turnstiles, his cheery voice rising
             above the hum and buzz of the crowd.

             Programs. Coyote claws. Foam rubber puck hats. Step
             right up. Here you go, sir. Thanks. Enjoy the game.

             Bracken, who bears a resemblance to a young Dick
             Vermeil, appeared tireless. He already had put in a
             full day at his regular job.

             Bracken is on the staff at Gilbert High School. He
             teaches sociology and a motivational class he calls
             "Positive Personal Preparation." He also coaches
             freshman basketball, a labor of love.

             Some evenings he sells programs and novelty items at
             the arena, wearing a Suns T-shirt when the NBA team is
             playing.

             Bracken works on commission, earning 10 percent of
             sales. On a good night he pockets $100. More at Bank
             One Ballpark. It's money he earns standing on his
             feet, shouting until he's hoarse. Money to help make
             ends meet.

             "This really hurts the little man," Bracken said.
             "There must be 500 to 1,000 people working in the
             building. I'll bet overall (the canceled games) affect
             3,000 people, maybe more. . . .

             "The NBA game better not think it's foolproof. Lots of
             friends tell me they're bored by the NBA. They'd
             rather watch a good college game.

             "The owners want more of the revenue. But without the
             players on the floor, there is no product.

             "I dunno. How can you side with either one? They're
             both turning people off.

             "Pro-grams! Pro-grams here! . . ."


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                The online news and information service of The Arizona
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