No-frills soccer

When it comes to sports I’m a gimmick guy, so usually when a rule innovation comes along, I’ll be the first to embrace it.

The American Football League introduced the two-point conversion to the pro game, which is one of the reasons (there were many) I liked it better than the NFL.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

The American Basketball Association had the three-point shot and red, white and blue basketballs, so to me it was superior to the NBA.

The World Hockey Association instituted sudden death overtime and (briefly) used blue pucks, thus it got more of my attention than the NHL.

So if I could work my will on soccer, I’d offer up some radical changes, right?

Nope. If anything, I’d make it even less modern because when it comes to the Beautiful Game, I’ve become an old fuddy-duddy. (Only someone old would even use the term “fuddy-duddy,” so you know I’m serious about this).

The subject came up when a friend of mine and I were discussing different ways sports have tweaked their rules over the years. We praised the seven-point touchdowns of the World Football League, spoke glowingly of the pandemic-inspired runner-on-second rule in Major League Baseball extra-inning games, and pledged our complete support for the four-point shot in the BIG3 league.

Knowing that association football is my passion, my buddy asked me how I’d reshape it if I could be its puppet master. Frankly, even I was surprised at how I’ve embraced soccer minimalism over the years.

For starters, I’d do away with penalty kicks to settle draws. To me, PKs should be reserved for fouls that occur during the course of a game and not used to determine the winner of that game. Having a match end in penalty kicks is akin to a field goal contest deciding a football game or a home run derby taking the place of free baseball after nine innings.

So does this mean overtime play should be used to break ties?

No.

And yes.

No if it’s a regular game on the season schedule. Remember what I said about settling draws? In my humble opinion, not all draws should be settled. If clubs play 90 minutes plus injury time and share the same score, then a tie seems to be a fair outcome for both.

The answer, however, is yes if the game is part of a tournament. If draws aren’t an option – say, in a knockout competition that requires advancement following each round – then extra time should be played until one side scores a goal. In 1975 the New York Apollos and Worcester Astros were declared co-champions of the American Soccer League when they played 67 and half minutes of overtime in their title game showdown but couldn’t change a 1-1 scoreline. That, however, is a worst-case scenario. And besides, that wouldn’t be a scenario at all if I ran things because there would be no title game showdown. In most soccer systems outside the United States, a league title is determined by which club has the most points at the end of a season. I think champions should be judged by their entire body of work, and a team that secures the best record through the course of a 30-plus match round-robin grind has earned the hardware.

Plus, there are plenty of cup competitions outside of a league season for those who enjoy win or go home tournaments.

The only playoffs I care to see in soccer are to decide promotion and relegation in an open pyramid, but I doubt I’ll live long enough to ever experience that in America.

So while I’m all for innovation when it comes to virtually every other sport on the planet, the older I get the more I prefer soccer that’s devoid of novelties. It’s a disconnect I can’t explain, especially since I grew up with the original North American Soccer League and once embraced its 35-yard shootout and fringe jerseys rocked by the Caribous of Colorado.

It’s not that I yearn for a return to cleated boots or an eight-panel ball with laces – I’m not that much of a fuddy-duddy. It’s just that for me, the simplicity of soccer is simply perfect.

My gridiron utopia

In my perfect football world, the Canadian Football League would be 10 franchises strong (hello, Atlantic Schooners) and all 10 would be financially sound with full stadiums on any given Thursday, Friday, and Saturday in the summer and fall.

The XFL, under the direction of Dany Garcia and Dwayne Johnson (and with the financial muscle of RedBird Capital), would be an innovative circuit willing to play the long game in terms of finding out which markets spring football works in and which markets it doesn’t, ultimately creating a sustainable second tier league.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

And as for a collaboration between the CFL and XFL, it would involve shared resources (a combined global draft, for example) as well as player loans, which are common in international soccer. The CFL would maintain its traditional rules (three downs, 12 players to a side, etc.) while the XFL would develop its own unique style of competition.

(I’m not including the NFL in this fever dream because it’s a league that occupies its own planet with a separate ecosystem). Of course, my perfect football world doesn’t exist – nor does anyone else’s. And what we’re left with is one league (the CFL) with major financial issues and another (the XFL) that has to figure out the best way to spend the money it has in what will be the brand’s third reboot.

I’m not an insider so I have no idea what’s going to happen, but everyone who’s interested has something to say about it. Many of those who are much closer to the situation than me seem to think a merger is imminent, with a “new” league emerging sometime after the CFL completes its 2021 season.

A hybrid circuit would involve some major compromises of rules considering the significant differences between the American and Canadian games.

If I was a younger fan who wasn’t emotionally invested in the CFL, that’d be kind of exciting. Before the pandemic ended XFL 2.0 in 2020, I was completely on board with its rule innovations and thought the quality of play was solid.

It was a vast improvement over the original XFL (2001) by every standard of measure, and laid out a fine template for how to reimagine the game. Throw in some CFL style wrinkles and you’d have a game different enough from the NFL and American college football to possibly create a brand new fan base.

But as someone who has followed the CFL since the 1970s, the thought of it losing its identity depresses me. Beyond that, a full merger means a combined CFL/XFL would either live together or die together.

This is much different than American expansion in the 1990s. When the Lower 48 experiment failed, the United States franchises simply became footnotes to CFL history (except for the Baltimore Stallions, which moved to Montreal and became the “new” Alouettes) while the remaining Canadian-based clubs went about their merry way.

But a CFL/XFL blended league would be a new organization with an infrastructure all its own. And that means traditional CFL teams might play in it, but they’d be playing in something other than the CFL. I’m the first to admit I tend to see the glass as half empty, but when I do I’m reminded by those bullish on this potential football marriage of how much money RedBird Capital has to spend. The company manages $4.5 billion in assets and is involved with the likes of Liverpool FC, the Boston Red Sox and LeBron James through Fenway Sports Group.

By taking on the XFL and trying to meld that league’s new ideas with Canadian tradition, it aims to create a new business model for football.

On the other hand, The Canadian Press reports that the CFL lost between $60 and $80 million last year when the 2020 season was canceled due to the pandemic. That did tremendous damage to the bottom line and it’s hard to tell how much recovery is possible this year. Earlier today the CFL announced a return to play plan that involves a 14-game regular season beginning on August 5 with the Grey Cup set for December 12 in Hamilton. But commissioner Randy Ambrosie cautions that it all hinges on “the state of COVID-19 across the country” and whether or not a significant number of fans are allowed in stadiums.

Ambrosie adds that all clubs are expected to suffer “substantial financial losses” again in 2021, so one can see how a future merger might be born of necessity.

But again, it’s not something I want to see in my perfect (yet nonexistent) football world.

Look, I don’t doubt the combined business and entertainment acumen of Garcia and Johnson, and obviously RedBird Capital has the seed money to make a new kind of league sprout.

But regardless of how much money you have to invest, you want to know that eventually that investment will pay off. And fans of alternative football might not want to hear it, but the next North American-based professional spring football league to last longer than three seasons will be the first.

Barons at 40

If you’ve visited this site more than a few times you know I have a thing for sports history, sports milestones, and personal history vis-à-vis sports milestones.

#OTD is my favorite hashtag, and I’m always looking for a cool sports nugget.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

So when I glanced at the calendar and eyed April 14, today’s column was an easy choice. On this date in 1981 the new Birmingham Barons made their Rickwood Field debut a successful one, edging the Jacksonville Suns, 6-5, thanks to a pair of Mike Laga home runs.

The franchise formally known as the Montgomery Rebels moved to Birmingham after 16 seasons in Alabama’s state capital (the original Barons played from 1892-1901 and there was another incarnation before the latest), and the rechristening was a banner day for me.

It was the first minor league baseball game I’d ever attended, and as one of 9,185 fans taking in the Southern League clash, I was part of Rickwood’s largest crowd since 1950.

Built in 1910, the facility was already ancient by then but it still seemed perfect to me. The design, the colors … everything about it felt like the way I thought baseball should feel. It was actually my third trip to Rickwood (I had played a youth football game there in 1971, and in 1975 went to an exhibition game between the Oakland A’s and old Birmingham A’s that was canceled when lightning knocked out a bank of lights) but the first time I’d spent an entire evening as a spectator.

And while my previous relationship with baseball had been mostly casual, being part of a near-capacity crowd and seeing great young players up close was a game-changer for me.

With Birmingham’s two World Football League teams now long gone and the Birmingham Bulls hockey franchise folding in February of 1981, this was my new pro sports focus in the Magic City.

That season I got to meet the team owner – the late, great Art Clarkson – who used to call me up years later during my stint at the Birmingham Post-Herald just to talk about the WFL (he had worked for the Southern California Sun and Memphis Southmen). I also literally ran into Ted Giannoulas (aka The San Diego Chicken, The Famous Chicken and The Chicken) while making a beer run. I shook his hand after the collision and he made it back to the field with his feathers barely ruffled.

During the 1983 season – a year the Barons won 91 contests and claimed the Southern League championship – I attended at least one game during every home stand. Looking back, I think it’s safe to say I’d never been a bigger baseball fan that I was that year, and it was all because of my town’s minor league club.

I have no idea how many Barons games I’ve been to since their return, but I’m guessing I’ve probably watched them play more times than any other Birmingham-based pro sports franchise combined.

I followed them when they moved out of Rickwood and into the fancy new Hoover Metropolitan Stadium in 1988, even though driving to games was much less enjoyable because of the traffic snarls heading into and out of the Birmingham suburb.

The venue had healthy crowds in 1994 when Michael Jordan temporarily traded in his status as a basketball legend for that of a baseball rookie, but the team had a losing record and Jordan batted .202, so it was an unsatisfying year from a results standpoint.

The Barons’ new home at Regions Field opened in 2013, seven years after I’d moved away from Birmingham. I finally got to see the Barons again in 2019 on a trip back home, immediately falling in love with the gorgeous digs and realizing how much I missed rooting for the home team in person.

When I started cheering for the Barons they were affiliates of the Detroit Tigers, and that lasted from 1981 to 1985. Since then, they’ve served as an AA pipeline to the Chicago White Sox.

Those are two clubs I’ve never cheered for (I favor the New York Yankees in the American League and Chicago Cubs in the National), but still have an interest in former Barons.

I guess I always will.

And once I get back to Birmingham – something I hope happens sooner than later – a springtime trip to Regions Field will be a priority. After 40 years, I have a lot invested in the club.