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A week ago, the question surrounding the Joe Johnson-to-Atlanta deal surrounded Johnson's willingness to go east, south and down about 50 games in the standings.

Now it's something else, something far more entertaining -- specifically, rich folks trying to kill and eat each other.

Next to that, the Joe Johnson angle seems so uninspiring.

You know the details. The Hawks' owners are trying to get rid of co-owner Steve Belkin for getting in the way of the Johnson deal. Belkin, in turn, went out and got a restraining order preventing his ouster.

Now the other owners want commissioner David Stern to kick Belkin out, and their lawyer, somebody named James Quinn (you gotta put names next to statements like this), compared the Johnson trade to Boston's acquisition of Larry Bird.

So if we have anything to say to Joe Johnson now, it is this (with apologies to Richard Pryor):

Run, Joe. If you can't run, fly.

Good basketball players are, as we all know, in the eye of the beholder. (Although the judge, for no reason we can fathom, decided to tell America that he doesn't like Johnson's game all that much). Good owners, though, can be spotted from a space station, and what we have in Atlanta is a pig pile of rich guys with opinions they are willing to kill to defend.

And while we recognize that basketball is a far more aesthetically pleasing sport, watching these guys go at each other like weasels on crank fighting over the last chicken in the barnyard is way more fun.

Plus, the NBA is only available on a few outlets, while rich guy cannibalism can be aired anywhere, from C-SPAN to National Geographic to Spike to HBO to Comedy Central.

Belkin, who owns 30 percent of the Atlanta LLC, which runs the Hawks, Thrashers and Philips Arena, is voting his stock. Mike Gearon, who was nominated to take Belkin's place on the celestial Board of Governors, heads a pack of other guys who are voting theirs. Only according to Belkin, the other 70 percent can't overrule his 30, because like a growing number of teams in the NBA and other leagues, minority owners can call the shots just by being declared the managing general partner, grand high imperial mystic poobah, or head of the Raccoon Lodge, if you're Jackie Gleason.

And a judge agreed with Belkin, at least until the next judge draws the short straw and has to listen to these hyperkinetic mopes arguing through their lawyers about each other.

The next judge will not be happy about the assignment, we are guessing.

Now next to all this, what can Johnson realistically do?

Double the Hawks' win total? Great, then they're 26-56? Then another 13 wins the next year? OK, 39-43, and now they're a potential playoff team.

In the meantime, though, Belkin, Gearon, and the Joint Chiefs of Staph are turning the team into an workable mess, one in which the partners cannot agree on who should change the toner, let alone who to take with the fourth pick in the 2006 draft.

Or let's say the 70 percent buy Belkin out, or the other way around. Now you have a cash-strapped team, with an owner or owners who overpaid for a team and have no way to recoup those extra millions.

In other words, Johnson would become the last big-money signing the Hawks would be entertaining for some time, which makes that 13-26-39 progression seem just the teensiest bit farfetched.

No matter how this plays out, then, you're still going to get more entertainment watching Belkin/Gearon, et. al., than you will Johnson, and this has nothing to do with Johnson's skills or want-to.

And why? Because there are a million basketball games every year, but you don't get to see guys in suits attacking each other hammers every day.

In the meantime, run, Joe. If you can't run, fly. And sit in first class if you can.

Ray Ratto of the San Francisco Chronicle is a regular contributor to ESPN.com