I'm not greedy. at least, I don't think I am.

And I recognize that the work I do is far less important than slapping a lump of rubber across a sheet of frozen water.

That's why I would happily sit out the rest of my season - until, say, the warm weather returns in May or June - for a lot less than $7.3 million.

All things considered, I'd seriously consider accepting as little as a paltry one million to stay away from the office.

I would even promise not to complain. publicly. It would be a hardship, but one that I'd be willing to accept for the sake of the team.

The Montreal Canadiens' decision to pay Scott Gomez a solid seven-figure bonus to keep his uniform clean and pressed - permanently - has generated a lot of buzz, both negative and positive (on the negative side, a lot of people don't like it, and the rest are positive they don't like it).

But the whole icy issue has been quickly buried beneath an avalanche of misunderstanding.

What's wrong with paying a guy not to play. er. work. er. whatever?

For instance, farmers in the 1930s were paid not to grow wheat after it was determined that growing wheat was part of the cause of the infamous Dust Bowl.

And Scott Gomez's on-ice statistics have been growing dust at an alarming rate.

That's also why it would have been dangerous to send him down to a Canadiens farm team, and the Canadiens club has appointed him to grow moss instead.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing to me is that people care at all.

By people, of course, I mean "hockey fans," even though by many definitions it requires a certain level of intelligence to be counted among the species subset "people."

Here's reality: just days ago it seemed as though hockey fans were reacting rationally to the despicable way they were being treated by both the NHL management and professional hockey players (although, I feel I should insert here that "professional players" - in any sport - has always struck me as an oxymoron on the order of "military intelligence" or "postal service").

Fans were fed up. They were mad as hell and weren't going to take it anymore.

Sports radio talk shows were filled with angry voices expressing angry sentiments formulated by angry fans.

Teams and their owners, the angry voices voiced, had practically priced themselves out of the market, and now were asking - no, demanding! - more.

There was a growing recognition among even the hardest-nosed fans that they were the ones paying for the players' fat pay cheques and the owners' growing margins.

Failure to provide expected entertaining bouts of hockey was an affront to every fan.

Talk show hosts - radio and television - commiserated. until prospects for a rump of a season materialized after all.

And now we learn through Mr. Gomez that the only way to stop them is to pay more.

Indeed, I suspect there are heads shaking out there in Readership Land right now, wondering why nobody has offered to pay me to not write this column.

Do you want this foolishness to stop? Would you like to sideline me? Permanently glue my butt to the bench? Teach me a lesson I won't soon forget?

No problem! Just show me the money! Small denominations and all unmarked bills, please.

And the worse you feel I have treated you, the more I expect you to pay.