It’s no oddity to walk into a back alley tavern and see an old man drinking away his social-security check, ranting about the days when athletes were regular working-class heroes. So often we dismiss it as the outdated ramblings of a grumpy trilobite, embittered that the tastes of his generation seem bland to a younger palette. Still, without indulging in that which could never again be, it remains possible to appreciate the subtleties of old-time sports — if for no other reason than to gauge how far the current scene has deviated from purer origins.

From a business perspective, the developments of the last century are virtually unfathomable. Changes in negotiation leverage shifted more than profit margins; they altered the way we view athletes and our expectations of them. When Christy Matthewson succumbed to mustard gas poisoning on the western front it was just another drop in a sea of tragedy. After all, why stop the presses? Coal miners are dying, what would make a ballplayer exempt? Now Pat Tillman goes down in Iraq and it’s the greatest sacrifice in military history.

Currently, an impasse sits on the horizon. The old inequities between players and owners have long since been righted and somewhere on the way the process stumbled along the gamut and face-planted at the opposite extreme. The danger now is that the movement of labor negotiations will come to threaten the capital interests involved in professional sports, endanger the long-held traditions of small-market communities and extinguish whatever feeble connection still exists between players and fans.

There’s certainly a great deal of blame to go around, far too much to divvy it all up like a dinner check. Bottom line, this scenario exists and most fans don’t even realize it’s a byproduct of their lust for quick and painless success with no expense spared. The owners will twist to fulfill the public’s demands and the players seek to take advantage of their good fortune. Though shortsighted in their actions, it’s unfair to apply liberally labels of greed and selfishness.

Several times in the past quarter of a century, telltale signs of deterioration have come, been noted and subsequently forgotten.

In 1988 columnists predicted the malaise over owner collusion against all-star catcher Carlton Fisk and 34 other players would bring the national pastime to its knees. Naturally everything came out fine in the end — it’s no big wonder that whispers of collusion redux have begun to echo about once again.

In 1994, experts believed the public opinion aftermath following the big baseball strike would endure for decades. After one decade it’s a distant memory.

But it’s not just the negative being forgotten. When the bidding wars between the NFL and the USFL led to the football strike of 1987, the owners decided to play hardball. The arbitration following this action gifted us with the collective bargaining agreement fans in places like Green Bay dearly appreciate to this very day. But did baseball take note?

Soon hockey dives into the cesspool, whether they go the way of the NFL or the MLB remains to be seen. However, there are three certainties: in the end, the bottom line will find a temporary solution; nobody will learn anything from it; and our expectations will fall.

Despite the perfectly understandable self-interest present in this story, villains do exist. Some on a much grander scale than others, but in an ethics debate, you don’t get points for being trivial.

Enter Mike McKenzie.

In terms of magnitude the situation looks microscopic, yet in principle it proves one of the more appalling acts in recent memory. Well, Terrell Owens pulled it too, but at some point you have to give up on a guy like that.

As summer camps loomed, McKenzie and agent Drew Rosenhaus decided that the five-year $17.1 million contract in effect was an insult to the Packer corner. Perhaps it is — the truth is McKenzie’s former agent proved incompetent on a number of deals. Regardless, McKenzie chose the agent and signed the contract willingly and of his own volition.

By refusing to honor the deal, McKenzie is neglecting his word and comprising the interests of the organization. Granted, it’s not uncommon for players to hold out for better deals come contract time, nor is it a marvel to hear of someone requesting a trade or contract renegotiation. Yet McKenzie seems to believe whole-heartedly that he transcends legal precedent in general.

Simply remove the fact that McKenzie plays pro ball and reexamine the situation with any other man sitting at the bargaining table demanding exponential pay increase without any leverage.

Yet somehow in this sad situation, he does have some leverage.

The Packers can’t accommodate his new demands within the cap (nor has McKenzie left any doors open to negotiation) and the beleaguered secondary can scarcely afford to lose their best cornerback. It’s no secret that for Green Bay the defensive backfield could be the difference between Super Bowl contention and utter disappointment. Given the timing of this debacle, the holdout smells an awful lot like exploitation.

As disconcerting as it is to think of Al Harris matched up against a powerhouse wide out like Randy Moss, a line needs to be drawn. The whole “Johnny has a bigger cookie than me” attitude is extremely unbecoming of a professional athlete. In fact, it’s a disgrace to the sport and an insult to the Green Bay Packer tradition. Bottom line, the fans shouldn’t stand for it.

The best bet for the Packers is to try to salvage the situation, send McKenzie a box of Kleenex and focus attention on the ambitious young corners Ahmad Carroll and Joey Thomas. The initial offer for a first-round pick didn’t allure anyone and it’s just not worth it to sacrifice principle for a second-round draft pick.

It’s easy to buckle and say the Packers need McKenzie. However, when you consider the main character in this drama suddenly feels he needs a new contract on par with the likes of Champ Bailey or Chris McAllister just two of five years into a multimillion-dollar deal, perhaps the working perception of necessity is slightly dysfunctional. The Packers do need solid coverage, but with good coaching and a solid effort from Carroll and Thomas, that may not be a pipe dream regardless of McKenzie.

If these two fail to step up, there may be some painful times in the season to come. Regardless, the most important thing is to send a message out to McKenzie and all those like him down the road to play by the same rules as everyone else.

Otherwise there’s a barstool waiting in the year 2050. You’ll sit down; turn to the college-age barkeep and say, “I remember back in the good old days before all franchises were owned by player trusts. Teams stayed in cities for more than five years and players didn’t need cybernetic implants to compete.”

Yeah, whatever you say, old man.