Lights, camera, Americans

It’s Thursday, August 29, 2019, so I know a lot of you are sitting around wondering what the biggest sports story was on this day in 1974.

Scott Adamson writes about alternative pro football leagues because it makes him happy, Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

I’m just joshing – none of you were wondering that.

But now some of you might be, and before you can consult the sports desk calendar you got for Christmas, I’ll tell you what some people think was the big news.

On this date 45 years ago, 19-year-old Moses Malone became the first player to go directly from high school to major professional basketball when he signed with the Utah Stars of the American Basketball Association.

Granted, that was a pretty big deal.

For me, however, that news was secondary to an event that would take place beginning at 8 o’clock that night. That was the time and Chicago was the place the Birmingham Americans became the first pro football team from Alabama to appear on national television.

And I was pumped.

If you’ve ever read me, met me or been forced to sit next to me on a plane, you know that I have great affection for the World Football League and, especially, its franchises in the Magic City.

The WFL is as vivid to me now as it was when I was a kid, and when you’re a kid who has recently been gifted with a pro team to call your own, you soak in everything about it.

The WFL featured colorful uniforms (Southern Cal wore magenta and orange), cool nicknames (the Portland Storm and Detroit Wheels) and innovative rules (touchdowns were worth seven points and the “action point” replaced the PAT).

But it also had a television contract with TVS Sports, meaning the league would be broadcast nationally – or at least to markets that opted to carry the independent network. TVS covered 80 percent of the nation and had almost 100 stations on board.

The WFL scheduled most of its games on Wednesday nights, but the TVS telecasts were all on Thursdays with Merle Harmon providing play-by-play and Alex Hawkins doing color.

Finally – eight weeks into the season – it was Birmingham’s chance to shine on the national stage.

The Americans had already played seven games and won them all, and leading up to their trip to the Windy City I witnessed them beat Southern Cal, Memphis and Detroit in person at Legion Field.

But back in the 1970s there was still something special about televised games, and getting to watch “my” team take on the Chicago Fire at historic Soldier Field was a source of pride and cause for genuine excitement. It was also the first opportunity I’d have to see Birmingham wearing blue jerseys; one of the WFL’s gimmicks was that most teams wore white at home.

With my dad in his usual lounge chair perch and me sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV – armed with a large bowl of popcorn and youthful enthusiasm – this was my version of must-see TV.

It sounds silly now, especially considering the number of great televised sporting events I’ve seen in my lifetime, but this week eight showdown from a fledgling (and as we’d soon learn, flailing) league still stands out.

Former NFL standout Alex Karras (who, at the time, was riding high from his star turn as Mongo in 1974’s “Blazing Saddles”) joined Harmon and Hawkins in the booth, and all three had plenty of good things to say about the Ams. Birmingham was the only team in the league that had an unblemished record, and was generally considered the team to beat. Apparently Chicago fans were impressed, too, since the Fire’s largest crowd of the season – 44,732 – came to watch.

For the record Birmingham won, 22-8, getting rushing touchdowns from Jimmy Edwards and Art Cantrelle and a George Mira to Paul Robinson scoring toss.

The Americans never trailed but I never got too comfortable, either, since they led just 14-8 lead heading into the fourth quarter.

But this was a team that had built its reputation on surviving close calls, and in their national TV debut they came away with an 8-0 record and two game lead over both Chicago and Memphis in the Central Division.

While they didn’t have the same “wow” effect as the first time, Birmingham appeared on national TV twice more that season, with both games beaming live from Legion Field. The Americans beat Shreveport, 42-14, on September 19, and edged the Florida Blazers, 22-21, in the World Bowl (the WFL championship game) on December 5. That contest was the last for the Ams; the franchise folded and was replaced by the Birmingham Vulcans in the league’s ill-fated 1975 reboot.

For many the WFL is long forgotten, if it’s even remembered at all. Malone’s signing with Utah, on the other hand, was a seminal moment in professional sports.

So if you want to tell me his $3 million contract with the ABA was the biggest sports story of August 29, 1974, I can’t argue with you.

But as someone who still pines for the Birmingham Americans, I can’t agree with you, either.

When the humans are away, the critters will play (and talk)

Having two dogs and two cats share my world means that my world is often in a state of chaos.

Scott Adamson’s humor column appears when he feels humorous.

Steve Rogers, the Chihuahua, spends an inordinate amount of time menacing Thor, our jittery ginger tabby.

Bane, our full-figured, fluffy gray tabby, enjoys dining on anything wicker or leather and violating my personal space whenever possible.

And Charlie, our Sheltie, tries to steer clear of it all because he’s a dog of peace.

A lot of times when Mary and I leave the house for lunch or to run errands we’re exiting what appears to be a petting zoo gone wild, and I admit it’s nice to have just a little bit of “us” time.

Invariably, though, when we get back home all the critters are nice and calm, causing me to wonder what they’ve done – and what they talked about – while we were gone.

A typical weekend day sees us head out for the afternoon, and I kiss them all on their heads and tell them I love them. I also leave one in charge because I like to show I trust them with responsibility.

As I get in the car I glance up at the window and Steve – standing on a stool in the den with his front paws on the window sill – is looking out at me.

Then we drive away, and out of sight.

Here’s what I think happens once we’re gone …

“OK, they just rounded the corner,” says Steve, his tail wagging furiously. “Man, I hope that lady comes back with chicken. I love chicken. Chicken is a thing that I can eat any time and every time. You like chicken don’t you, Charlie, huh? Huh? Huh?

Charlie stretches out on the hardwood floor and sighs.

“Yes,” he says. “I like chicken.”

Steve continues looking out the window and wagging.

“Hey, Bane,” Steve says, “Do you remember that time that lady left the chicken in her purse and you knocked the purse over and all that delicious chicken fell on the floor?”

Bane, chewing on the edge of a wicker trunk, looks up briefly.

“Indeed,” he says.

Steve jumps down and heads toward Bane. He bites the cat’s ear but is swatted half-heartedly.

“Me and Charlie made quick work of that chicken, didn’t we?” Steve says. “I think you got some, too, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Bane says. “Now leave me alone for a while. I’m trying to destroy this trunk.”

Thor then creeps out of the bedroom, looks at Steve and switches his tail.

“I hate you, you little bastard,” says Thor, immediately retreating.

Steve laughs.

“C’mon, T,” Steve says. “You’re a cat, I’m a dog … it’s like the circle of life from that movie.”

“What movie?” Thor asks.

“You know, that circle of life movie,” Steve says. “Escape from New York.”

Bane, who has now completely removed a corner from the wicker trunk, shakes his head.

The Lion King,” he says.

“What?” Steve asks.

“The circle of life reference is from The Lion King,” Bane explains. “It’s a song by Sir Elton John. Escape From New York is a John Carpenter film set in a dystopian America, circa 1999.”

Steve looks confused.

“Yeah, I don’t know nothing about no circus in 1999,” Steve says. “I’m just trying to explain to my orange friend that fightin’ and feudin’ is what we’re designed to do. We’re like those famous families that fought all the time – I think their names were Cagney and Lacey.”

Bane rolls his eyes.

“The Hatfields and McCoys,” Bane says. “That’s who you’re talking about.”

“Were they in Escape from New York?” Steve asks.

Before Bane could swat him, Steve senses movement outside and retakes his spot on the stool. Once in position, he notices a man and woman walking a small dog on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” he barks. “Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Get the hell out of here with that vermin. I swear I’ll jump through this window and jack all your asses up. ALL. YOUR. ASSES. UP! “Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!”

Charlie chews his butt briefly, looks up at Steve, and says, “You make me nervous with your noise. Please don’t make any more noise.”

Thor mews slightly as he walks away, muttering, “I hate you, you little bastard,” under his breath.

After the danger passes – meaning after the man, woman and dog pass – Steve starts talking about chicken again.

I figure this goes on for roughly another hour, and then they sleep for, oh, a good two hours.

Steve – now on the futon with Bane and Thor while Charlie continues to snooze on the floor – perks up when he hears our car doors close.

We’re home.

“Be cool, guys,” he says. “They’re back. I just hope that lady has some chicken. Me and you like chicken, don’t we Charlie? Huh? Huh? Huh?”

All sports, all the time

With the rollout of team nicknames on Wednesday, the XFL teased fans about what they’ll see when the rebooted football league kicks off next spring. It’ll be another in an increasingly long line of pro upstarts that are formed on the premise that gridiron fans have an insatiable desire for the game.

Scott Adamson’s sports column appears pretty much whenever he feels like writing it.

And that got me wondering … are there any other sports that fans yearn to see year round? You don’t ever hear much about that – at least I don’t.

Soccer is the exception because, frankly, it already is year round. If you want to find a competitive league in any given month, you can.

Today, though – just for fun – I’m gonna look at a handful of sports and wonder out loud (and in print) how they might fare if they played in their offseasons and were bankrolled properly.

Please be sure to keep a grain of salt handy as you read,

BASEBALL

Would there be an interest in a pro baseball league that starts, say, in November and ends in March? I realize there are already winter leagues, but they’re short, mostly of the instructional/ rehab variety, and designed to give players a nudge up the Major League Baseball farm system ladder.

What I’m talking about is a kinda/sorta “competitor” to the bigs, or at least one that would aspire to independent Triple-A status.

Teams would have to play in warm weather climates or in cities with a dome, so automatically you could forget major markets such as New York, Chicago and Philadelphia.

That would be a huge negative if this league was looking for a major TV contract.

With the “real” baseball season already at 162 games and a World Series that bleeds into late October, another league might be a tough sell. Considering I have a hard enough time watching the MLB these days anyway, I’m guessing the novelty would wear off quite quickly for me.

Still, if I ran it, two of my major rule innovations would be a two and a half hour time limit on regular season games and a home run derby (penalty kick-style) to break ties.

BASKETBALL

This sport is already almost year round thanks to the WNBA, which I enjoy watching very much. Still, a men’s league that started up right after the NBA crowned its champion would interest me, too.

I love watching the NBA summer league, and if a new circuit was formed that started in the hotter months and played until the fall, I’d definitely support it. Roundball is something I never, ever tire of, and if you put some good players out on a court, I’ll pay to watch them.

And there are plenty of great players across the globe that would easily fill roster spots. When you realize there are only 450 players in the NBA in a given season, that means there’s a whole lot of talent looking for work.

I think with the right marketing and media partners, a June through October basketball league would have a puncher’s chance of making it.

Rule changes would include teams having the option to take the ball instead of shooting free throws following a foul, and making traveling an enforceable call.

Then again if you wanted to go way outside the box, how about a co-ed pro league? Lineups featuring three men and two women and three women and two men would alternate each quarter, and the shifts would be determined randomly before games.

HOCKEY

Now that’d be a hoot. All you need are arenas, water filtration/advanced refrigeration systems and Zambonis, and you’re good to go.

Oh, and players – quality players would help. (Raiding the Kontinental Hockey League would be a good start to that end).

I fell in love with hockey back in the 1970s and the affair is still going strong. Therefore, if I lived in a town with a team that skated on Saturday nights in June, I’d gladly give it my money (even though it would be weird to wear shorts to a hockey game).

Rule-wise, I really can’t think of much I’d change. To me it’s one of those “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” kinda things. But … if I could do one thing, it would be to increase the goal size from 6×4 feet to 7×5 feet. Goalies have gotten bigger over the years, so maybe the nets should reflect that growth spurt.

The question, of course, is whether enough people would pay to see summer hockey to make it worthwhile.

Last year the NHL averaged 17,377 fans per game and drew over 22 million for the season. Open up the checkbooks to get a few name players, put franchises in hockey hotbeds, and who knows?

I can’t think of a single entrepreneur chomping at the bit to form such a league, but I’ll lend my encouragement if they do.

Yet while we might never see major attempts at second seasons for baseball, basketball or hockey, you can always count on football to give it a try. Aside from the XFL, the Freedom Football League and Pacific Pro Football are scheduled to debut next summer.

And since I keep hearing that everyone wants football 12 months out of the year, it’d be nice if one of these leagues actually proved it to be true.