A magazine, TV show and handbook cemented my soccer fandom

The 1970 World Cup final was the first soccer match I ever saw on TV … and I saw it on a six-month delay.

Scott Adamson opines about The Beautiful Game periodically in Sidewinder Insider.

ABC’s Wide World of Sports rebroadcast the final between Brazil and Italy on Dec. 26 of that year, even though the match was actually played on June 21, 1970, in Mexico City.

Brazil won, 4-1, with Pele scoring the first goal and ending his World Cup career with three titles.

As a 9-year-old in Birmingham, Alabama, I was mesmerized by the skill and artistry of the game. And seeing more than 100,000 fans in the stands – singing, chanting and cheering – left an indelible mark.

If I had to pinpoint one thing that ignited my passion for The Beautiful Game, this would be it.

Soon I was learning everything I could learn about soccer, and trying to get up to speed on world class players such as George Best, Johan Cruyff, Eusebio and Sepp Maier.

Still, soccer was not something easily accessible for an American fan in the American South, at least not in the 1970s.

Except for occasional blurbs in the local newspaper, the library was the only place where I could learn about the game.

That’s why to this day I still owe a debt of gratitude to three names you might not even recognize – Clay Berling, Toby Charles and Zander Hollander. These were men who brought the game to me through word and voice.

Berling published a biweekly newsletter called “Soccer West” in 1971 and a year later it went national as “American Soccer” magazine.

What morphed into “Soccer America” became my go-to source for the sport, and I cheerfully parted with my allowance in order to pay for a subscription and read great work from great writers.

Berling, who died last October, was inducted into the National Soccer Hall of Fame in 1995, honored as one of the sport’s builders in the United States.

In 1976, however, I was introduced to both the TV series “Soccer Made In Germany” and the annual publication “The Complete Handbook of Soccer.”

For me, it completed an association football holy trinity.

Charles provided play-by-play for truncated broadcasts of West German competition, an hour of soccer beamed into my home each week thanks to the Public Broadcasting System.

One of his most famous phrases, reserved for off-target shots, was “high, wide and not too handsome,” but the fact that he had such knowledge of the game increased my knowledge of the game. Thanks to YouTube I can still hear his terrific voice – and get a taste of “Soccer Made In Germany.”

As for Hollander, who spent much of his career editing encyclopedias of every major sport, I’ll be forever grateful for “The Complete Handbook Of Soccer.”

The first was published in 1976, and I own two copies.

Shoot, I still read one from time to time; the other is on display in my fan cave.

What made it such a valuable resource for me was that it featured previews of each North American Soccer League team, profiles of 100 of the NASL’s top players, an overview of the American Soccer League, a breakdown of college soccer, and a handful of  features.

One story in the 1976 edition, written by Andrew Cagen, profiled NBA legend Bob Cousy, who had taken over as commissioner of the ASL.

Who knew?

Until the handbook came out, I certainly didn’t.

Hollander died in 2014, but I like to think he’d be pleased to know that my bookshelf is stocked with much of his work.

By 1976, I felt as “caught up” on soccer as I could possibly be.

Between reading “Soccer America” and “The Complete Handbook Of Soccer” and watching “Soccer Made In Germany” to the soundtrack of a Welsh broadcaster, my love for the game was cemented forever. It led me to build a makeshift goal in my backyard and go on to enjoy a highly undistinguished high school playing career.

So, if you ever ask me who my “heroes” are in the sport, the names Berling, Charles and Hollander won’t be the names you expect.

They will, however, be the names you’ll hear.

The 1976 edition of The Complete Handbook of Soccer is proudly displayed in my fan cave.

If you plan to eat, always plan ahead

Many times as people get older, they tend to get thoughtful. Perhaps they’re more inclined to remember simpler days, before the weight of responsibility began crushing them.

Brain Farce is an alleged humor column written by Scott Adamson. It comes out basically whenever he feels like writing it. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

They long for lost youth, lost loves – memories good and bad often come flooding back, keeping them awash in mixed emotions.

Not me.

My main concern each day is figuring out what I’m going to eat the next day.

I’m serious.

Although I’m acutely aware the world is in upheaval and these are extremely dangerous times, the last thing I discuss with my wife before going to sleep is the chow I’ve got lined up the next day, when I’m going to eat it, and where the feasts will take place.

It’s a system, and one I’m damn proud of.

Now, before I explain my process, let me be clear: I’m not a glutton.

I don’t put on sweat pants and a tee shirt and spend the day sitting on the couch eating turkey legs like Henry VIII and watching Dr. Phil (although Hank probably wore breeches and hose, because kings rarely wore sweats back then. Also, Dr. Phil was not carried by the Tudor Cable Company).

In fact, I’m a fairly healthy eater – all things considered.

I’m a vegetarian and I stay away from fried foods, so there’s a lot of grub I can rule out immediately.

And that’s why it’s so important that I plan ahead.

During the week I usually eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at home.

That means there will almost always be oatmeal or fruit in the morning, vegetables in the afternoon and something centered on hempeh in the evening.

Hempeh, by the way, is modeled after tempeh but is soy-free and considered a “superfood” thanks to its hemp seed base.

And before you make a joke about hempeh no, you can’t get high from it.

It doesn’t roll well at all and I can’t even keep it lit, so I stopped trying to smoke it a long time ago.

On weekends, though, my wife and I will go out to lunch and occasionally – if we want to be like the cool kids – we might dine at a restaurant at night.

Saturday and Sunday breakfasts are also special.

And by “special” I mean we eat grits and fake sausage.

Fake sausage tastes something like “real” sausage, except pigs don’t die for our enjoyment.

In fact, there are no deaths at all in the processing of fake sausage, unless it’s some sort of freak factory accident. (Should that ever happen, I’ll be the first to send thoughts and prayers to the victims and their families).

On the other hand if, for whatever reason, fake sausage and grits doesn’t strike our fancy, we might go for pancakes or waffles.

In an “either-or” situation I always choose pancakes because they’re softer and less aggressive than waffles, and sometimes I feel like waffles are judging me.

As for lunch and dinner outside the home, there are three specific places on our list.

One is a  vegetable-centric restaurant, one serves Greek fare, and one is Mexican.

It’s important to note that the Mexican restaurant has something called
“octopus wieners” on the buffet, which I don’t think are the actual wieners of actual octopuses.

It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other since I don’t eat things with mothers, but I would’ve loved to have been in the marketing meeting when it was decided to name a food after a sea creature’s pecker.

In summation, planning out my dining options ahead of time frees up my mind to think about more important things – although at the moment I can’t think of anything more important than eating.

When I do, I’ll let you know.

After lunch.

Spurrier gives new league big boost

With the staggeringly low success rate of alternative pro sports leagues, it’s easy to dismiss any new venture.

Out of Left Field is written by Scott Adamson. It appears weekly and sometimes more frequently if he gets up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

The Alliance of American Football, however, is now a bit harder to ignore.

Less than a month after the fledgling spring league came out of nowhere, the AAF hinted that it was serious about going somewhere when it named Steve Spurrier its first head coach and Orlando its flagship franchise.

All new business ventures need publicity, and signing the Head Ball Coach to a deal generated plenty of it – even during a weekend when The Masters was the top story.

In a statement posted on the AAF website, Spurrier says co-founders Charlie Ebersol and Bill Polian have created a league worthy of his time and effort. It didn’t take much convincing for him to agree to become the first coach in league history.

“What first captured my attention was Charlie and Bill’s commitment to putting top-flight, professional football on the field and creating a true alliance between fans, players and the game,” Spurrier said. “The Alliance offers a unique opportunity to get back into coaching, this time for a spring season, and work closely with hungry, talented athletes looking to begin, revive or extend their professional careers.

“The fact I can do this in Orlando makes it that much sweeter. I’m fired up and ready to go.”

Spurrier, of course, has a national championship and six SEC titles on his resume from his days at Florida; won an ACC crown at Duke; and even turned South Carolina into a top 10 program before things started going backward with the Gamecocks. After three consecutive 11-2 marks in Columbia, the team went 7-6 in 2014 and he resigned midway through the 2015 campaign with Carolina sitting at 2-4.

And while his two-year stint in the NFL was hardly memorable (12-20 with Washington), his last job in a pro spring football league certainly was.

Spurrier coached the United States Football League’s Tampa Bay Bandits during all three of its seasons (1983-85), creating the wide-open “Bandit Ball” attack and helping the team finish 35-21 overall with two playoff appearances.

The Bandits averaged 43,343 fans per game – second best in league history.

Now he’s back in Florida, and his name alone should be worth strong early ticket sales at Spectrum Stadium.

So why Orlando as AAF ground zero?

“When reviewing markets for the Alliance, we focused on cities who were looking for more football,” Ebersol said. “Orlando has already proven to be a passionate, loyal and engaged fan base that loves the game, yet they don’t have a professional football team to call their own.

“Well, we’re not just bringing professional football to town, we’re bringing the Head Ball Coach with us, a true Florida legend.”

Spurrier is a polarizing figure – I’m guessing the excitement level in Tallahassee and Miami is a bit more muted – but he’s still a big get and this is, after all, pro ball.

The AAF is planning on a territorial system for drafting and signing players, so expect most of the football-playing colleges in the Sunshine State to be represented on the 50-player roster.

And since the AAF can be considered an informal feeder league for the NFL, the best way to sell Double A (or optimistically, Triple A) football is to use players the fans already know.

Of course, it’ll all come down to whether or not people are willing to accept the fact that the AAF is a legitimate bridge between college and NFL ball.

To that end, Spurrier in Orlando is a good start, but what’s next?

The league will start play with eight franchises in 2019, so it’ll be interesting to see what other coaches and cities are matched up.

Based on Ebersol’s statement, you get the impression that maybe he wants to avoid NFL towns.

On the other hand – from a media and marketing standpoint – it never hurts to have a New York, Chicago or Los Angeles in the mix.

Whatever the case, I’m much more interested in the Alliance of American Football today than I was a week ago.

It’s still a longshot, but it’s off to heck of a start.