Gambling on Gabriel

Minor league football, circa 1973, was neither glamorous nor lucrative.

But the addition of NFL star Roman Gabriel to its ranks would’ve certainly been flashy – especially framed by the glitz and glamour of Las Vegas. And the promise of a $100,000 payday was the key to luring the 32-year-old Gabriel to the desert and making him the face of its lower division team.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Threads @sladamson1960 and Adamsonmedia on Facebook.

The Las Vegas Casinos, members of the Southwestern Football League, tried to put themselves (and the SFL) on the map in April, 1973, by bringing in Gabriel. And based on news reports at the time, it appeared that such a move was actually possible.

Gabriel was going through a messy divorce from the Rams, asking to be traded after new L.A. coach Chuck Knox signed John Hadl away from the San Diego Chargers and tapped him as the franchise’s presumptive starting QB.

Gabriel was coming off an injury-plagued 1972 campaign that saw him suffer from a collapsed lung and tendinitis in his throwing elbow. Although he played in all 14 regular season games, he managed just 12 touchdowns against 15 interceptions.

But while Gabriel was uncertain about his NFL future, his agent – Ed Masry – said his client had an opportunity to get an early start on the 1973 football season. The Casinos would begin their campaign in June and were supposedly ready to write Gabriel a check for six figures, plus a percentage of gate receipts. According to Masry, an agreement in principle to play with Las Vegas had been made on April 12.

The Southwestern League was formed in February, 1972, and its primary gimmicks were field goals from 35 to 50 yards counting four points and those from 51 or more worth five. The SFL featured the Casinos, Phoenix Blazers, Southern California Razorbacks, New Mexico Thunderbirds, Denver Oilers, Dallas Rockets, San Antonio Toros, Oklahoma City Wranglers and Kansas City Steers.

The plan was for Gabriel to play eight games for Las Vegas during the summer and then he could resume his career with an NFL team during its exhibition slate.

But … there was a pretty big problem.

Since Gabriel was still on the payroll of the Rams, he had to follow NFL rules.

“No player under contract to a club in the NFL shall be permitted to participate in any football game for or against any team, group or organization outside the league except in games officially approved and sanctioned by the NFL,” reads an excerpt from the NFL constitution.

League officials also warned him that jumping to the SFL could possibly result in a permanent ban from the NFL.

At a news conference at Masry’s office, Gabriel didn’t address the minor league rumors, but claimed his contract with L.A. was null and void since the franchise was under new ownership.

“I don’t get along with the present Rams management,” he told Associated Press for an April 14 story. “I have reason to distrust them, so it makes it difficult to play for them. I’m a little upset and offended about it being said that I am afraid to compete against John Hadl. In the past 11 years I have competed against a minimum of 14 quarterbacks in order to maintain my position as a starter.

“Under no circumstances would I ever leave a team because of competition. I thrive on it; I don’t fear it.”

Of course – spoiler alert – Gabriel didn’t play for the Casinos, and who knows if he ever had any real intention to do so. It was just a public way of letting the Rams know his time in southern California was over and they needed to make a deal.

It was a bummer for me, because the Rams were my favorite team in the NFL (prior to its merger with the American Football League), and Gabriel was a major reason why.

On April 18, Masry and Casinos legal counsel Eddie LeBaron (a former NFL quarterback himself and four-time Pro Bowler) released a joint statement saying Gabriel would not suit up for Las Vegas.

“Mr. Gabriel has commenced initial steps toward legal resolution of his purported contract with the Los Angeles Rams. It does not appear possible to revolve the legal questions in time for the Las Vegas Casinos to arrange a summer schedule that would permit Mr. Gabriel to play for a National Football League club in the fall. Therefore, negotiation for his services have been terminated by mutual agreement,” the statement read.

The story had a happy ending – at least for Gabriel.

In June he was traded to the Philadelphia Eagles for Harold JacksonTony Baker, a 1974 first-round selection and first and third-round picks in 1975.

He went on to win NFL Comeback Player of the Year honors in 1973, throwing for league highs of 3,219 yards and 23 touchdowns (although the Eagles finished 5-8-1 and third in the NFC East).

He spent the last five years of his 16-year NFL career in Philly, and why he isn’t in the Pro Football Hall of Fame remains a mystery to me.

As for the Casinos, they suffered the same fate as most minor league/semi-pro teams, spending the rest of their brief existence in obscurity.

They did manage to make the 1973 SFL playoffs without Gabriel, although they were blown out by the Toros in the semifinals, 45-3. Vegas was without starting quarterback Mark Bordeaux – who missed the game because he was attending a wedding.

The Casinos’ last bit of notoriety came in 1974 when, playing in the Pacific Professional Football League, they defeated the Albuquerque Thunderbirds, 100-0, on June 29. The game saw the winners tally 15 touchdowns and was shortened to 50 minutes because it was such a mismatch.  The team folded in August, turning the lights out on the three-year old team repping the City of Lights.

Interview With Count Dracula

Tall, thin and nattily dressed in a deep purple sport coat and slacks, Count Dracula waved at the man from his small table in the back of the restaurant.

Robert Belmont had been running the Vampirical Evidence website ever since he dropped out of junior college, and after nearly 10 years of chasing leads – and shadows – he had finally scored an interview for the ages.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Threads @sladamson1960 and Adamsonmedia on Facebook.

As Belmont reached the table, Dracula extended his hand and smiled broadly – revealing a pearly white (if fangless) set of teeth.

“So nice to meet you, Mr. Belmont,” he said. “I hope this restaurant suits you.”

It did, indeed.

While a damp, dark castle might’ve been a more traditional setting, those were hard to come by in Hays, Kansas. Plus, meeting a vampire in a public place was much safer for the interviewer.

“This is great, Count,” he said. “It’s such an honor to finally meet you.”

Belmont had spent countless hours studying vampire mythology, and had so many questions he worried that he wouldn’t have time to get even half of them answered.

“I hope you don’t mind if I jump right in,” he said, plopping a digital voice recorder and spiral notebook down on the table. “I’m gonna record the conversation, if that’s not a problem. Or maybe should I ask, is your voice even recordable? I’m hoping you can help explain which myths have an element of truth and which ones are false.”

Dracula drank deeply from his wine glass and leaned back in his chair.

“I’m afraid you might be disappointed when you find out how many myths are just that,” he said. “That said, I’m hoping I can clear some things up for you and your audience. Oh, and yes … my voice records just fine.”

Belmont turned on the device and started his questioning.

“OK,” he said. “First off, how many years have you been in your castle in Transylvania?”

Dracula gave Belmont a puzzled look.

“Uh, I’m from New Castle, Pennsylvania,” he said. “I grew up in a midcentury modern home there. I’ve never been to Transylvania … I couldn’t even find it on a map.”

Belmont was dumfounded.

“But your name is Count Dracula … I’ve confirmed it through some of my sources on Facebook.”

Dracula nodded.

“Ah, yes, Facebook. Isn’t there a group on there that has proof that four plus four equals five?” Dracula said, using air quotes to emphasize the word proof. “You can’t believe everything you read, Mr. Belmont.”

The interviewer began hastily thumbing through his notebook.

“So, are you denying that you’re Count Dracula?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Dracula answered. “My family name is Dracula. My first name is Count … my parents were rather eccentric and huge fans of Count Basie, which is how I got my name.”

Belmont reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. On it were several photos and drawings of Dracula from various time periods, all bearing a striking resemblance to the Dracula sitting in front of him.

“Come on, Mr. Belmont, “ Dracula said. “Really? I don’t recognize any of those photos, which means I’m quite certain they’re photoshopped. As for the drawings, anyone could’ve done those. Nothing there proves I’m a vampire.”

Belmont sighed.

“You’re not a vampire, then?” he asked, earnestly.

Dracula’s eyes widened.

“Oh yes, I’m a Vampire,” he said. “The Vampire family hails from Romania. I did dome research on a genealogy website and learned that Augustus Vampire emigrated from there back in the 1600s. Eventually – because of the myths – they changed the name to Vampoor and settled in Malta.

“What you thought you knew, you don’t. Am I undead? Well, yes … if you’re alive, you’re undead. Do Vampires drink blood? The Vampoors drank a lot of blood orange juice because they had a citrus orchard. I’m sure you’ve had fun with your Vampirical Evidence website, but I’m your evidence – and I don’t think it was what you hoped to find.”

Belmont closed the notebook, slid his phone and recorder into his pants pocket and stood up from the table.

“Well,” he said. “I appreciate your time, anyway. I doubt my site is gonna generate much traffic after I run this story.

“Thanks again.”

Dracula watched Belmont leave the restaurant and followed him out moments later, getting into a car that had just pulled up.

“Well?” asked the driver.

“Good news and bad news,” Dracula said. “I’m pretty sure I fooled him … I masked my scent with cologne and he seemed genuinely dejected when he left. But there’s a full moon coming in three days, and we need to be vigilant.

“Belmont might not think I’m a vampire, but I know for a fact he’s a werewolf – I could smell that bastard the minute I saw him.”

The Canton dynasty

A hundred years ago professional football was still in its infancy, with the National Football League (known as the American Professional Football Association until 1922) entering just its fourth season of operation.

But 1923 was also the final year of the Canton Bulldogs “dynasty” – one that crumbled when the two-time champions were bought out and redistributed to Cleveland before the future Hall of Fame City had a chance at a three-peat.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Threads @sladamson1960 and Adamsonmedia on Facebook.

The Bulldogs were already well-established, having won championships in the Ohio Football League before professional football consolidated into one major league.

Their first season in the APFA – 1920 – ended with a 4-4 record, and they improved to 5-2-3 in 2021, good enough for fourth place.

In 1922 the NFL started with 18 teams. Along with the Bulldogs, there were the Akron Indians, Buffalo Bisons, Chicago Bears, Chicago Cardinals, Columbus Tigers, Dayton Triangles, Evansville Crimson Giants, Green Bay Packers, Hammond Pros, Kenosha Maroons, Louisville Colonels, Milwaukee Badgers, Minneapolis Red Jackets, Oorang Indians, Racine Tornadoes, Rochester Jeffersons and Rock Island Independents.

Guy Chamberlin took over as head coach, player and part-owner of the Bulldogs in 1922. The former Nebraska All-American had played for the unbeaten Ohio League Bulldogs (coached by Jim Thorpe) in 1919, and returned in multiple roles after starring for the Decatur/Chicago Staleys for two seasons.

Chamberlin made quite an impact in his first season at the Canton helm, leading the team to a 10-0-2 record that included nine shutouts.

Chamberlin – an end and wingback – led the team with seven touchdowns and the Bulldogs outscored their opposition, 184-15.

There was no playoff system then, but Canton was declared champion by virtue of having the best record in the league.

A year later, with Chamberlin still running the show, the Bulldogs did it again – even better than before.

Going 11-0-1, they were an offensive juggernaut, tallying 246 points. Chamberlin was still a solid contributor on the field with three touchdowns, but tailback Lou Smith set the pace with seven scores while fullbacks Doc Elliott and Ben Jones each had six TDs.

The defense gave up just 19 points in registering eight shutouts.

Once again there were no playoffs, but Canton took a pair of victory laps after retaining the crown.

First it traveled to Philadelphia on December 15 and defeated the Frankford Yellow Jackets, 3-0, on the strength of Pud Henry’s 11-yard field goal. The exhibition game came against a team that would join the NFL a year later.

The Bulldogs then blanked Melrose Athletic Club, 27-0, in another exhibition contest played a day later in Atlantic City.

The report in The Morning Call newspaper on December 17 called Canton “the greatest collection of football stars ever assembled on any gridiron here.”

The Bulldogs’ 25-game unbeaten streak from 1921-23 is still an NFL best, and they are the only team to go undefeated in consecutive seasons.

A chance to continue their dynasty appeared on track as the calendar turned to 1924.

In April Chamberlin was reappointed Canton head coach, and signed most of the stars from the previous two seasons. And in July, the Bulldogs had already mapped out their schedule for the upcoming season.

But everything changed on August 3, 1924.

“The greatest deal in the history of professional football was consummated here Saturday when Sam Deutsch, backer and manger of the Cleveland professional eleven, purchased the Canton Bulldogs, professional champion of America for two years, buying franchise, players and even uniforms,” the Dayton Herald reported in its August 4 edition. “Deutsch has also retained Guy Chamberlin, who successfully coached the Canton eleven, to coach the team, which will now be known as the Cleveland Bulldogs.”

Adding insult to injury for Canton fans, the article also noted that, “Deutsch expects to sell the Canton franchise to another Canton syndicate, which will try to keep Canton on the football map with a cheaper team, some of which possibly will be the players Deutsch and Chamberlin will not need on the Bulldogs.”

Cleveland’s Bulldogs did, in fact, win the 1924 league championship with a 7-1-1 record (although they were trounced by the Bears, 23-0, in a postseason exhibition game on December 7).

The Canton franchise sat out the year and reformed for 1925.

In a sense, the first year the franchise spent in Cleveland was, in fact, a three-peat; they were basically the same Bulldogs, just housed in a kennel 60 miles away. The NFL, however, officially considers it a completely different team.

But for Canton – which lost its NFL club for good following the 1926 season – 1923 was the last year the city was home to a championship team in football’s biggest league.