By Mikael Awake

In a better world, a lot of things would be true: I'd have a fleet of Dodge Vipers (like my 7th grade history teacher said I'd have because of my test scores), my tweets would get turned into searing movies starring Forrest Whitaker as a dyspeptic writer, and we would be eight games into the NBA regular season. 

What a sad, cruel world it is.

As negotiations between the National Basketball Players Union and the team owners officially collapsed on Wednesday, things are starting to get gorgon (which is some new slang I'm trying out for when things get "really ugly"). There's been no shortage of trash talking—the lawyer for the players compared the league to plantation owners—and patronizing finger-wagging from Commissioner Stern.

There are journalists and economists who have been following this mess since mid-summer with much greater patience and concern than I am able to muster. I simply want to see the tall dudes put the bouncing leather orb through the high net-hoop. 

Which brings me to my proposal. One that combines America's love of healthy competition with its hellbent drive to monetize everything that moves.

In a world where people are not only making lemonade out of lemons, but selling that lemonade for millions of dollars (see: profit made by Kim Kardashian for divorce of locked-out NBA Player Kris Humphries), I dream of a reality-courtroom drama called Full Court Press.TM

Let's lacquer the court's wood and paint advertisements and colorful hashed lines on it. Let's get those HD cameras going back and forth on a zip line, and cheerleaders, well versed in legalese, waving their pompoms from the jury box. Whenever the lawyers confer with the judge or with their clients, let a man step into the middle of the courtroom and spin plates from a long pole balanced on his chin while riding a unicycle. And let there be a thirty second interview after each brain-melting quarter with the sweating, out-of-breath lawyer who seemed to win the day, e.g. Cheryl Miller asking Jeffrey Kessler, head of legal for the players' union, what he plans to do in the next half of the trial. Kessler: "Just basically do what we're all trying to do: make a shitload of money."

Feel free to run with this one, NBA. We're bored.