Hayes: If you dislike teams resting stars, stop buying tickets

Imagine going to a Capitals game in Pittsburgh in December to discover that Alex Ovechkin and Sidney Crosby were "resting" that night to keep themselves fresher for the playoffs.

Imagine a Panthers fan who bought tickets to a midseason Monday night game in Foxboro and, as he parked his car, found out that Cam Newton and Tom Brady were taking the night off so they might be able to play until they're 52.

Imagine flying from D.C. to Anaheim in July and learning that Bryce Harper and Mike Trout weren't going to play in that series so they'd be fresher for the next series; you know, the one you weren't going to be at.

Now imagine that it's last week, and you lived in San Antonio, and you bought your kid tickets to see Steph Curry play, but Steph's coach decided he was going to give Steph the night off … so Steph might be fresher in a month. Or if you lived in L.A. and planned to see LeBron play, but he didn't, because his coach wanted to make sure LeBron could squeeze one or two more seasons out of an aged body … in five years.

Of course, you don't have to imagine Steph or LeBron as healthy scratches last week, because they sat out those games. Their absence in road games with playoff seeds still in question is the apex of an NBA epidemic spurred, if you will, by Gregg Popovich, the Hoodie of the Hardwood, who has, for years, rested players to freshen them for the postseason and lengthen their careers.

This rash of coaches' resting healthy players for regular-season games clearly violates the implicit contract between all leagues and their fans: a contract that implies that every team in every league will put the best possible product on the floor and try to win every single game.

Some fans – usually the most rabid and desperate – accept the strategy for the ultimate reward; that is, the best chance over the longest number of seasons to win championships. Other fans seem outraged.

The solution is simple:

Quit watching or quit crying.

The essence of the league is not only about winning titles. It is also entertaining a fan base with a suitable product and, at the end, determining which product is best that season. Part of that determination is rooted in attrition.

The league and the players collectively bargained that they would play an 82-game schedule. That number was reached by determining how many games young men's bodies could endure over a 6-month season. If 82 are too many games to let the stars shine every night, fine. Play 72 games. Or 76.

That means everybody gets a pay cut.

Warriors coach Steve Kerr called benching Curry "the right thing to do."

Ridiculous. It's the right thing for Steve Kerr and Steph Curry. Kerr and Curry are irrelevant.

The general fans – the masses, not the cultists – are relevant. They employ Kerr and Curry. They buy tickets, they pay to park, they consume concessions and, more than anything else, they watch TV. If Kerr and Curry and Pop and 'Bron can't fulfill the implied contract of playing all 82, then shame on them. That's part of the professional sports algorithm. Endurance counts.

NBA commissioner Adam Silver generally and foolishly ignored the practice until Monday, when, after a particularly egregious spate of willful dilution, he issued a veiled and toothless threat about addressing the issue at the Board of Governors meeting April 6.

Yawn. Silver won't change this. Neither will the players, who love to rest, nor the owners, who crave titles.

Know what else the owners crave? Money.

The people who fund the league – the fans – control the money. As such, they can eradicate the healthy scratch.

They can stop buying tickets. They can quit buying beers. They can turn off the tube.

Or they can stop complaining.