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Supersized NFL bummed me out

For a young kid who was in love with pro football, 1970 should’ve been my favorite year.

**Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl and Instagram @adamsons60**

With the merger of the National Football League and the American Football League official, the NFL was now a one-stop shop for the ultimate in gridiron competition. Twenty-six teams, two conferences – shoot, ABC was even going to start televising games every Monday evening throughout the season.

I could stay up late on a school night and watch football, and that was a pretty dang big deal.

Instead, while other nine-year-olds were thinking about Lassie saving some idiot kid from quicksand or the Brady Bunch playing in their AstroTurfed backyard, I was mourning the death of the two-point conversion.

See, I was an AFL guy. Considering my age I was probably more of an urchin than guy, but the point is “my” pro football league was the junior circuit.

It was wide-open, filled with fascinating characters who played with sandlot sensibilities. There was nothing quite as fun as watching aerial battles at muddy Shea Stadium in New York, muddier Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum in the Bay Area or muddiest War Memorial Stadium in Buffalo.

But because of the merger, the AFL was reined in, cleaned up and stripped of its identity.

The four-man competition committee, which met in the spring of 1970, voted to eliminate the two-point conversion and take a bit of fun and strategy out of the game. In the AFL days, if a team trailed 35-28 and scored with no time left on the clock, it could go for the win.

Going forward and faced with the same scenario in the expanded NFL, it could only hope to settle for a tie.

The committee also voted to use the NFL ball instead of the more pointed AFL ball, the latter designed for passing and one that helped turn guys like Joe Namath, George Blanda, Jack Kemp and Daryle Lamonica into stars.

The only concessions the AFL got was the approval for players to wear names on the backs of their jerseys (whoop-de-do) and official time being kept on the scoreboard (I didn’t care if Dingus the feral groundskeeper kept official time).

And worse – at least from my standpoint – was that the Baltimore Colts, Pittsburgh Steelers and Cleveland Browns joined the 10 former AFL members in the new American Football Conference.

I didn’t so much care about adding the Steelers and Browns, but Super Bowl III was one of my greatest sports memories as the Jets stunned the world (or at least the part of the world that cared about football) with a 16-7 upset of the Colts.

That would never happen again because now the two teams were not only in the same conference, they were in the same division.

It all seemed wrong – like having the friend who lived in your middle class neighborhood suddenly move into a big mansion in a ritzy part of town.

It’s not that I disliked the NFL or anything. Just as the Jets, Namath and Weeb Ewbank were my favorite team, player and coach in the AFL (and all of pro football), the Los Angeles Rams, Roman Gabriel and George Allen had my allegiance in the older league. But I enjoyed the AFL more – much more – and relished the fact that they were separate entities.

Joining forces made the game bigger, but not necessarily better from my standpoint.

Of course it was a business decision that made perfect business sense. No longer would there be bidding wars between leagues and the merger ensured that all the franchises would be sustainable.

But I didn’t care about any of that stuff. I was nine, and my idea of business was trading my G.I. Joe with lifelike hair and beard for your G.I. Joe with kung-fu grip – and adding a dollar to sweeten the deal. I never demanded that football teams open their books and explain their financials.

So the AFL died hard for me 50 years ago when the modern NFL was born. While ultimately it was best for professional football,

I missed the old neighborhood – and all that fun in the mud.

Baseball’s third major league

The history of professional sports is full of stories that end with the big fish swallowing the little fish.

The American Basketball Association couldn’t match the money of the National Basketball Association, so the result was the NBA absorbing a handful of ABA franchises.

Same thing happened when the World Hockey Association ran out of gas in its quest to skate side-by-side with the National Hockey League.

Even the American Football League – which had become the equal of the National Football League – wound up playing under the NFL banner when the circuits combined.

But pulling off a “merger” without ever fielding a club – well, that’s impressive. And that’s basically what the Continental League of Professional Baseball Clubs did 60 years ago this month.

The idea for a third major league was unveiled on July 27, 1959, courtesy of New York lawyer William Shea. When the Dodgers and Giants left the Big Apple for Los Angeles and San Francisco, respectively, Shea lobbied both the NL and AL for an expansion franchise. New York had once shown it could support two other teams aside from the Yankees, and he knew fans would welcome a second team in the nation’s largest city.

But the big leagues weren’t interested, so Shea decided to be proactive and form a brand new circuit.

“We anticipate the cooperation of organized baseball,” Shea told United Press International. “But we’re all in this to stay and we’re not going to back out no matter what. It can’t cost them a thing. It creates vast new areas of interest and income with no risk on their part. On what grounds would they object to a deal like this?”

New York would be the crown jewel of the league and play in a brand new stadium. Other cities under consideration were Buffalo, Montreal, Atlanta, New Orleans, Portland, San Diego, Miami, Indianapolis, Dallas-Fort Worth, Seattle, and San Juan.

The league would begin play in 1961 with a minimum of eight clubs, each playing a 154-game schedule. It would create jobs for roughly 200 players and Shea envisioned a unique Fall Classic.

“A round-robin World Series would be a great spectacle,” he said. “Of course, the Continental League’s champion might not win it for a while, but can you picture anyone saying it’s not big league when it does?”

Shea brought in plenty of big money men to help jumpstart the league, and all were serious about getting up and running quickly.

“I believe the major leagues are sincere in their expressed wishes to help in the expansion of their game,” said former Western League President Edwin C. Johnson, who had also previously served as Colorado’s governor and senator. “But I also know major league baseball fears two things – the courts and Congress. We don’t want to start a war, but we’re not afraid of one.”

Perhaps the greatest boost to the upstart’s credibility came when 77-year old Branch Rickey was brought on board as president. Not only had he signed Jackie Robinson to break Major League Baseball’s color barrier, he was also the pioneer of the modern farm system. In terms of front office prestige, no name was bigger than Rickey’s.

“Our league will definitely be ready to operate in 1961 and I intend to devote my remaining years to seeing it prosper,” Rickey told the Associated Press. “I’m not worried about my age. My doctor told me I’ll live just as long active as I would inactive.

“This is a great challenge to me. It’s a great challenge to the citizenship of the country. It’s a great challenge to the majors themselves. They need to do it and I think they will. Several of the club owners are ready to embrace it.”

He also made it clear that it was in MLB’s best interest to accept the Continental League.

“We want your cooperation, we need your cooperation, we demand your cooperation,” he said. “I’m convinced a third major league will do baseball, especially the National and American League, a great deal of good.”

By the summer of 1960 the new league announced eight flagship franchises in New York, Minneapolis-St. Paul, Dallas-Fort Worth, Houston, Denver, Toronto, Atlanta and Buffalo. NL and AL owners wouldn’t listen to Shea before, but they had to listen to him now – especially since he was intent on luring players from their leagues to his.

But before any of the new teams could sign stadium deals or even get nicknames, the big league establishment offered quite a compromise. If the Continental League disbanded immediately, the two major leagues would agree to expand to four of its cities ASAP and put franchises in all of them eventually.

For Shea, whose primary concern was getting New York back in the National League, that was all he needed to hear.

“We accomplished the job I started and I believe (New York City) will be one of the first to get a team,” Shea told AP. “It’s been a lot of work, but I set out to get a team for New York three years ago and this is it.”

Major League Baseball Commissioner Ford Frick was happy to avoid a crisis.

“I always have been in favor of expansion and I’m happy the move has been made peacefully,” he said.

Thanks to the threat of a Continental League, the American League added the Minnesota Twins and Los Angeles Angels in 1961 (The Twins moved from Washington. D.C., although a new Washington Senators team replaced them that same season).

In 1962, the New York Mets and Houston Colt .45s joined the National League. Ultimately, seven of the original Continental League cities are now MLB cities, although Buffalo is still waiting.

Not a bad legacy for a league that never played a game, huh?

The weird world of sports

Life is weird right now, and I’m acutely aware there are far more important (and far more urgent) things to consider than sports.

**Scott Adamson’s sports column appears whenever he feels sporty. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl and Instagram @adamsons60**

But since sports have always been a big part of my life, I can’t help but marvel at how especially weird they’ve become in the era of COVID-19.

Last August no one would’ve thought the NFL would scrap its 2020 preseason and hope – hope – to play a 16-game slate.

Nor could we imagine Football Bowl Subdivision schools deciding to shorten and overhaul their schedules and some Football Championship Subdivision leagues opting to stay off the field completely in the fall because of health concerns.

I mean, everything is just so incredibly out of sync. It’s as though any competition held between now and whenever this pandemic ends is taking place in an alternate reality.

I had cooled on Major League Baseball for the past several years but decided I’d be excited about its return. That excitement waned when the decision was made to play outside a bubble, and now it’s pretty much gone.

With players testing positive for the coronavirus and placed in quarantine – and games having to be rescheduled – the whole idea of a shortened 2020 season now just seems like a mistake to me. When I wake up in the morning I no longer look for scores, I look to see if Commissioner Rob Manfred has pulled the plug yet.

The NBA and NHL are up and running again in hub environments, and as a big fan of both I’m in full watch mode this weekend. Thursday night the game between the New Orleans Pelicans and Utah Jazz had my complete attention, even though the “virtual” fans creeped me out.

And today I’m going to beat the heat by staying inside and watching the New York Rangers skate against the Carolina Hurricanes in a Stanley Cup Qualifier.

But professional basketball and hockey seasons should be long over by now. Even though neither has crowned a champion yet, restarting them as a way to wrap up unfinished 2019-20 business gives all the games more of an exhibition feel to me.

That was the vibe I got when the English Premier League and Bundesliga decided to play out the last few matches of their suspended seasons. The empty stadiums and canned crowd noise didn’t bother me so much as knowing they were closing out an old schedule at a time they should be playing friendlies and gearing up for a new one.

And don’t get me started about my beloved Canadian Football League, which should be nearing the halfway mark of the season but might not have any games at all in 2020.

Look, I understand why all the leagues are trying to salvage what they can, just as I understand why many fans are relieved they’re making the effort. Watching the NBA get back on the court and NHL teams hit the ice is like reconnecting with old friends.

Yet, I’m still unsettled by it all.

But here’s a twist I didn’t see coming. While I’ve had trouble adjusting to the Bizarro World of my favorite traditional sports, I’ve gotten hooked on other athletic events.

For example, I’ve enjoyed World Team Tennis for more than four decades, but I’ve never been as enthralled with it as I have been this summer. I found myself watching as many matches as I could, which was made easy since there were as many as four per day.

Its all-too-brief season ends tomorrow with the championship match at noon, and I’m truly going to miss it when it’s over.

After a long hiatus I was reintroduced to Australian Rules Football this summer, and I’ve enjoyed all the late night/early morning clashes on television. It’s a great hybrid sport for those of us who follow American football, soccer and rugby, and the combination of grace and brawn is quite impressive.

A new WNBA season – even though it’s scaled down from a 34-game regular season to 22 contests – has rekindled my love for women’s basketball. I’ve always said one of the best ways to learn the fundamentals of hoops is to watch an elite women’s game, and the WNBA certainly checks that box.

But there again, we’re dealing with a league playing in a bubble with all its games staged at IMG Academy in Bradenton, Florida, so it’s hardly normal. Nothing is normal these days, though, so we do the best we can however we can.

Maybe this time next year Major League Baseball will be making its post-All-Star Game push to the playoffs, the WNBA teams will be playing home games at their home arenas, and the CFL will be wrapping up Week 8.

And perhaps in August, 2021, fans of American football can look forward to how their favorite team will do in the upcoming season instead of worrying whether or not there’ll even be an upcoming season.

Until then, we have to accept the fact that sports are weird – just like life.