I'm not a union man. I've never been part of a union, and I wouldn't even know where to begin to look for the Union label. I've even got a problem with Gary Puckett and the Union Gap because they had a hit and got rich off a song that is basically about being a pedophile:

Young girl, get out of my mind.
My love for you is way out of line.
You better run, girl.
You're much too young, girl.

	We like unions, we really like unions -- for regular folk.

I'm surprised Jerry Lee Lewis didn't play at his wedding.

My only experience with unions has been at various jobs in television. At some television stations, the on-air "talent" (a term of endearment I've always loved, despite the condescending inference that off-air people don't have talent) is required to join a union. That was never the case at any place I've worked. So, I've never had the privilege of being forced to pay an insane membership fee and monthly dues for the opportunity to do a job I got on my own merit. But the editors and photographers are more frequently members of a union.

(Keep reading, I'll eventually turn this into a sports column.)

What I learned from my experiences is that unions have the potential to perpetuate mediocrity. There's no motivation for someone to work harder or perform better if they know they're going to get the same 4 percent raise at the end of the year that someone not nearly as industrious is going to get, as well. Fear of losing their job is almost nonexistent, and far too often, so is personal pride in a job well done.

Admittedly, my knowledge of unions is severely limited. I've observed a little bit at a couple of local news operations. I've watched in opposition when teachers, nurses, and policemen have gone on strike. And I've seen most of "Norma Rae."

I've also studied some history, so I realize the formation of unions was an important step in getting rid of sweatshops, creating safe working conditions and preventing child labor. Unions still protect a lot of modestly paid people from unfair labor practices; so, at their core, I guess unions are a good thing.

But do we really need a players union in major league baseball? Other than creating a minimum salary, what purpose does the union serve anymore? Don't you think baseball would be better off if the Major League Baseball Players Association just shriveled up and blew away? Who would miss it?

We barely know it exists, until there's a problem. And that problem is frequently created by the union itself because it likes to pretend it's a victim. You know it is reflexively against contraction ... yes, the same group that demands a share of the owners' profits doesn't want owners who either can't compete or can't make money to fold up their own shop when they want to.

		Do we really need a players union in major league baseball? Other than creating a minimum salary, what purpose does the union serve anymore? Don't you think baseball would be better off if the Major League Baseball Players Association just shriveled up and blew away? Who would miss it?

My most recent quarrel with the players union involves Mo Vaughn, and how it could have affected Juan Gonzalez. In order to come to the Mets, Vaughn was willing to defer some of his millions. Vaughn, who earned the nickname "Mo Money" when he went to Anaheim, was now willing to take less money. Mo's his own man. He wasn't happy out west, so he took matters into his own hands and struck a deal.

But hold on there, Newt! The players union got its nose out of joint and stuck it where it doesn't belong -- right in the middle of the Hit Dog's "tale." And that stinks! The union almost prevented the deal because they thought Vaughn was devaluing his contract. So what? That's his prerogative.

But unless every player is squeezing every last dime out of every owner, the union feels some misplaced obligation to flex its muscles. Say the phrase "home town discount" to Donald Fehr, and it's like nails on a chalkboard. He might actually shriek with the high-pitched sounds of a whale in distress.

But shouldn't a player be able to make his own decisions? Where do I want to live? Where does my wife want to live? Where do I want to raise my children? Where's the best chance to win? Now, that everybody's making so much money, shouldn't it finally be true that "it's not about the money"?

Would you rather make $10 million while playing in Montreal or Kansas City where you're destined to lose 100 games a year, or make the paltry sum of "just" $8 million to win 100 games somewhere else?

I understand money as an issue when a player making a mere $250,000 gets a $1 million offer somewhere else. That $750,000 difference can change a life -- bigger college funds, private schools, new cars, better homes and gardens -- the whole ball of wax, regardless of the cost off wax. But the $2 million difference between $8 million and $10 million is the difference between having more money than you'll ever need and having even more than that.

	Did Juan Gonzalez really sign with the team he wanted?

Individual players should be able to decide what's best for them and their families without the intrusiveness of the union. But there are no individuals in a union. There's only the union. All for one, and one for all!

For a while there, it seemed as if Juan Gonzalez really wanted to play for the Mets. Unfortunately, there was a problem: The Mets claimed to have only about $1.5 million left in their budget. That's not nearly enough to land a former MVP who drove in 140 runs just last season.

But let's say, just for giggles -- because it really is preposterous -- that Gonzo had been willing to play for $1.5 million. The union would have thrown a hissy fit and brought every kind of pressure it could think of to prevent Gonzalez from accepting an offer so far below his market value. I think Gonzalez would actually have been viewed as some kind of traitor because when other players went hunting for big money in the future, a low-ball number for someone like Gonzalez would not have helped their cause.

So, instead of finding true happiness playing with his friend Robbie Alomar on a team that had a legitimate shot to win the World Series (remember, we're just fantasizing here), Gonzalez wound up in Texas because apparently Tom Hicks has more money than God. I think he must be loan-sharking for the Supreme Being.

Contraction, escalating ticket prices, empty ballparks, the need for new ballparks with luxury boxes and corporate seating are all the result of salaries that have more zeroes than a Google search. Yes, the owners pay the salaries. Nobody's putting a gun to their heads. I've heard it before! But it's the union's insatiable greed that consistently says that even more than enough is never enough.

If they ever do say enough is enough, the problems are solved. If ownership's expenses level off, so will their need to gouge the public. Certainly, we can trust the owners to pass the savings on to us.

Right?

Hey, maybe the owners should form a union. Wait! They did that once. It was called "collusion." And after watching Barry Bonds hit 73 homers and then sit around waiting for the phone to ring like a teenage chocoholic, you can bet the players union is already whispering the word "collusion" again, and soon they might very well be screaming it from the roof tops of their multimillion-dollar homes.

Bob Halloran is an anchorman for ESPNEWS.