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Vincent Lecavalier makes $10-million a year.Jim McIsaac

There is no record of the Apostle Timothy ever attending a National Hockey League game - or even having access to the league's Center Ice Package - yet he must have been thinking of hockey when he declared: "The love of money is the root of all evil."

There are even those involved in the game who have concluded that money is the root cause of the game's most troubling current issue.

Lack of respect.

It has not passed notice that virtually every time a story appears of yet another heinous hit from the side, from behind, from straight on, late, blindside, whatever - really, who even cares any more what the rule book says or does not say? - chances are pretty good the average fan will never have heard of at least one of the two players involved.

In talking recently to lacrosse players, who would be as rich and famous as the top hockey players if Canada's two national sports were actually equal, a direct connection was made between respect and money.

Lacrosse, just for the record, has taken steps to deal with head shots, steps that are enlightened compared to the NHL.

The reason, says John Tavares, high school teacher and all-time leading scorer in the National Lacrosse League, is obvious: "You know that, next day, you've both got to go to work."

Not so in the NHL, where there is no need of other work and where, if you can just stick around long enough, you'll never have to worry about "work" for the remainder of your life.

The lack of respect is most apparent among certain "marginal players," lesser skilled players who ride a bubble between staying barely afloat in the NHL and dropping back down to the minor leagues.

One player agent says it is understandable why some of those with less talent will do whatever it takes to play at the higher level.

"Players in the minors are making $50,000, $60,000," he says. "If they can go up and staying up requires that they hurt guys, they're going to do it."

Why wouldn't they? A marginal player on a two-way contract stands to increase his base pay by tenfold if he can escape the buses of the American Hockey League for the charter flights of the NHL.

If that player can come up and stick, it gets even better. The average salary for NHL players is more than $2-million (all currency U.S.) a year.

Let's put that in context. In a single season - eight months work for a player on a team that doesn't make the playoffs - a player around the NHL average would make as much as a nurse would make in a lifetime. Top NHL players - Vincent Lecavalier and Roberto Luongo make $10-million a year, Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin $9-million each - make more in one year than a surgeon will make in a lifetime, twice as much as most lawyers and three times as much as an engineer.

This high price for superstars, says one lawyer who has worked with the National Hockey League Players' Association, has yet another effect. "On most teams," he says, "five or fewer players are making half the total of the salary cap, leaving about 20 others to share the rest. The bottom half of the team are totally interchangeable and know it, and they will do anything to get noticed."

If you can get noticed by stopping at nothing to eliminate an opponent, you will in all likelihood be kept around. Intimidation may not be quite the tool it was in the days of the Broad Street Bullies, but it still ranks high.

Sticking in the big league, no matter what it takes, means a massive raise and often leads to the coveted one-way contract, meaning you essentially have life made from a financial point of view.

This, it is worth noting, is a fairly recent development and can be easily tied to the demise of respect over the past couple of decades.

There was a time when being a professional hockey player meant money, but not fortune. Newsy Lalonde made $2,000 a year 90 years ago; Jean Beliveau made an exorbitant $21,000 in the mid-1950s; Phil Esposito turned pro for $5,800, and Bobby Orr shot out the lights when he commanded $35,000 in the final year before expansion.

Back then, marginal players had summer jobs, as did many of the stars.

One matter under discussion is reducing the number of fringe players and, therefore, the less skilled who must resort to other "talents" to get by.

The league has had internal discussions concerning a roster reduction that could conceivably see the end of the useless fourth line that teams must carry.

The league - however unlikely it is that the players' association would ever agree - sees a great deal of potential in dropping this useless appendage: reduced salary and travel costs for teams, overall higher skill level, potential for more goals if players are slightly more tired.

The greatest advantage, however, may be the most welcome of all.

A little more respect.

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