NBA players belong to a union, but with a median salary of $2.3 million a year, they're part of the 1 percent of wealthiest Americans - and that's creating an odd dynamic at Oracle Arena, where the Golden State Warriors return to the court today for the first time since the league's five-month lockout ended.

While the players union gave each of its 400-plus members $100,000 during the lockout to help them meet their expenses, Robert Parker didn't receive any help to make up for the $2,000 he said he didn't earn from his concession-stand job. Like many of the 300 people who work at Oracle Arena, Parker lives paycheck to paycheck. So he cut back.

The 58-year-old San Leandro resident didn't have a turkey for Thanksgiving, won't have a tree for Christmas and can't be as generous in the gifts he gives his grandkids on Dec. 25.

"I'm hoping to keep the lights on here," said Parker, who has been a vendor for 23 years. He couldn't understand why the players and owners couldn't figure out how to divvy up the spoils in a league with $4 billion in annual revenue. The minimum salary for an NBA rookie - before he has even touched the hardwood - was $473,604 in the 2010-11 season.

"You have millionaires arguing with millionaires," Parker said. "Why couldn't they continue to play while they worked their problems out?"

Hundreds lost jobs

Little has been said about the plight of the 99 percent types who do the lower-wage work at arenas around the league. By the end of October, league offices had laid off 200 workers and another 200 had been let go by the league's 30 franchises, according to the Sports Business Journal, an industry publication.

On a macro level, economists say the lockout had virtually no effect on Oakland or the larger Bay Area. Too few people work around Oracle on Warriors game days for their lost wages to affect the region's larger economic picture.

And the dollars that fans would have spent on businesses around the arena were redirected toward other entertainment options, said Brad Humphreys, a professor of economics at the University of Alberta who has studied the economic impact of professional sports league work stoppages.

Instead, the impact of the lockout was felt by individuals.

"It's the people who are earning the least who are hurt the most," Humphreys said.

Parker will make most of his lost wages back by early spring, when all but eight home games will be made up through the NBA's revised schedule. But in the near term, he'll take a financial hit that is proportionally much more intense than the players or owners took during the lockout.

Like roughly half of the concession workers at Bay Area sports facilities, Parker works full time. That means that while he missed a couple of months' worth of Warriors games, he could work at Oakland Raiders, San Francisco 49ers or college games in the region.

Still, he has lost income from a family budget that doesn't have room for error.

"That's the thing about this being your career: Every single game counts, and these people have not been working for two months," said Wei-Ling Huber, president of Unite Here Local 2850, which represents food vendors and preparers in the Bay Area and elsewhere in the United States and Canada.

"It's hard for them to have much sympathy," said Humphreys, "when they're caught in the cross fire of a battle between the millionaire players and the billionaire owners."

Holiday 'rewards'

The Warriors are recognizing this disparity. Before today's preseason game, team sources tell The Chronicle, team President Rick Welts and general manager Larry Riley will speak to all of the people who work at the arena and explain how the club will try to help them out before the holidays and throughout the season with other "rewards."

The club declined to offer details before addressing the workers.

An NBA spokesman told The Chronicle that any decision to help stadium workers who were hurt financially during the lockout "will be handled at the team level."

Players take notice

During the lockout, a few players reached out to fans or workers. Indiana Pacers forward Danny Granger offered to take people who work at the team's Conseco Fieldhouse out to dinner. When the lockout ended, NBA Finals MVP Dirk Nowitzki was one of the few players to mention lower-wage workers.

Nowitzki tweeted: "Nba is back? Great news today. I'm so happy for all our fans and all the people who work in and around the arenas. Go mavs."

John Arnolfo has been a vendor at Bay Area venues for 40 years. In 1990, his doctors told him to quit after suffering a herniated disk, but the 61-year-old took a few months off and has been going strong since. Now, he usually sells churros at Oracle Arena, which are relatively easy to lug around.

He said he "took a hit" during the lockout, but should recover. Still, it left him with mixed feelings.

"I know I'm supposed to be on the side of labor," said Arnolfo, a Daly City resident and union member. "And I don't begrudge the players trying to get the best deal possible for themselves. That's what you do.

"But if we went on strike, you know they would continue to play basketball," Arnolfo said. "You can take that to the bank."