Bob Stein began his NFL career in 1969, long before player salaries were comparable to the gross national products of many small countries. So he was thrilled at the prospect of making a little extra money at Super Bowl IV in New Orleans.

With four extra tickets -- face value $15 -- the Kansas City linebacker asked a friend to see what he could get for them outside the stadium. "I figured Super Bowl, sellout, I'm gonna make some good money," Stein recalled Monday. "He got 37 bucks. I said, 'Well, OK, $15 seats, and I got $37 for them.' He said, 'No. That was for all four.' "

Stein's Chiefs beat the Vikings in that Super Bowl, taking some of the sting out of his entrepreneurial misadventure. With each passing year, his ticket tale grows a little more quaint -- or a little more distasteful, depending on your point of view. Ticket prices at Sunday's Super Bowl included $800 for seats that couldn't be occupied and $200 for the privilege of sitting outside the stadium to watch on TV. If you wanted a drink to help you forget about your overextended credit card, you could get a margarita for $19.

In the NFL universe, there is no recession, and greed and overindulgence remain in style. There seem to be no limits to either, which is why Sunday's superb game might be the last one we see this calendar year -- and why the men who helped set the league's course remain on the outside looking in.

The collective bargaining agreement between the NFL and its players' association expires March 3. Stein is among those predicting the owners will lock out the players, putting the 2011 season in doubt. It's always tough to take sides in a millionaires vs. billionaires showdown, particularly one that threatens to shut down America's most popular sport. It's even tougher for guys like Stein, who has seen many of his fellow retirees -- men who laid the cornerstone for a $9 billion industry -- left with virtually nothing.

Retired NFL players won't have a seat at the bargaining table; the NFL Players' Association represents only the current men in uniform. They will, however, be courted by both sides. The public has become more aware of the former players living under bridges or in dementia wards, with no NFL-provided health benefits and little or no league pension. Knowing that aligning with such a sympathetic group would enhance their images, both the owners and the players' union have said they would address the retirees' plight while they argue over how to share billions of dollars.

But the owners' goal in these negotiations is to grab more revenue for themselves. The players want to keep what they have, and most have not been overly concerned with their predecessors. That means the one group that is actually hurting, the one not sharing in the spoils it helped win, has no assurance that an ever-richer league will give them their due.

"You don't hear about baseball players dying under highway bridges," said Stein, a Minnesota native who played eight years in the NFL and is now an attorney. "The reason is, baseball takes care of its players. It's a shame to see so many of our guys living in squalor.

"It's hopeful news that both sides are talking about helping us, but we're a bargaining chip. If one or both sides feels like it will be an advantage in the bargaining process to get the support of former players and commit to them, that's the only way we have a chance to benefit."

Advocates for players who retired before 1993, when the players' association secured a superior pension and benefit package for its members, have many stories to tell. Stein said Donnie Green, a tackle who blocked for O.J. Simpson in Buffalo, has lived on the streets. Rosey Grier, part of the Los Angeles Rams' Fearsome Foursome, receives an NFL pension of only $400 a month.

Stein is continuing work on a lawsuit filed on behalf of several former players. It demands that the NFL compensate them for the use of their images, which the league continues to use to promote and enrich itself without sharing any revenue with those players.

It stands to become richer under a new labor agreement, since the owners hold most of the cards. Regardless of how things play out, Sunday's Super Bowl demonstrated there is plenty of largesse to go around. When the pie is divided, both sides should ensure that retired players get a slice. It's the only way to salvage anything admirable from this fight between the rich and the richer.

Rachel Blount • rblount@startribune.com