Scott Adamson, Author at Adamsonmedia.com

Diamonds aren’t forever

With the holiday season upon us I was hoping to find a feel-good sports story that also incorporates alternative football, thereby checking the boxes of two of my favorite things – feeling good and off-brand gridiron competition. And though the feeling was fleeting, the story of the 1969 Arkansas Diamonds is downright inspirational.

The Diamonds were members of the Continental Football League and played their inaugural season in 1968.

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

It was not a success.

Coached by former University of Arkansas star and four-time NFL Pro Bowler Fred Williams, the expansion team stumbled to a 2-10 record and averaged roughly 2,500 fans per game while playing at a high school stadium in Little Rock. It was a rough first year for a franchise that was already overshadowed by college football and the Arkansas Razorbacks.

Yet while things were a slightly better record-wise in 1969, the Diamonds were buried in debt and finishing the season appeared to be a longshot – even after offering 300,000 shares of stock at $2 a pop to build support. On October 1 IRS officials notified the team that almost $12,000 in back taxes were owed for the last quarter of 1968. And Associated Press reported that unless the team raised $20,000 by October 11, the league would revoke the franchise.

Williams and general manager Jim Landers resigned, with Landers telling AP it was “an impossible task to perform the duties I was hired to do due to lack of money.”

Throw in the fact that the Razorbacks were a top five team and commanding most of the state’s attention, and it was difficult to imagine enough people cared one way or another about the fate of this struggling COFL franchise.

But they did.

The team averaged only 1,500 paying customers per game, yet new GM Tommy Overton said more than $10,000 had been donated by October 9, with contributions ranging from 50 cents to $1,000.

“We had a man from Carlisle, a disabled veteran paralyzed from the neck down, send us his government allotment check of $105.90,” Overton told the Associated Press. “We don’t want to see it fold. I can’t believe some of the people who have rallied behind us. It’s becoming more like a community thing.”

With the league covering its expenses, Arkansas players agreed to forget about the three weeks back pay they were owed and play out the rest of the season – with no guarantee they’d receive any money for their efforts.

“The first time we missed a payroll they were free agents, but only one of the 36 left,” Overton said. “Several of them got offers from other teams, but they turned them down.”

Heading into their road game against the Norfolk Neptunes on November 8, the Diamonds had posted a 5-5 record with two games remaining and their refusal to give up had resulted in opposing fans taking up their cause. When the Diamonds arrived in Norfolk, their pregame meal, transportation to the stadium and motel rooms had been donated by Neptunes supporters.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’ve got the best team in the league,” interim coach John Hoffman told the Daily Press of Newport News. “They’ve rallied around the team and are giving it everything they can.”

Bobby Tiner led the team running and passing, throwing for 1,256 yards and 10 touchdowns while rushing for 513 yards and four more scores. Tommy Burnett was his favorite receiver, catching 34 aerials for 620 yards and eight touchdowns.

Defensively, Tommy Trantham paced the resistance with seven interceptions.

More than half the roster had ties to Arkansas colleges; Trantham and Burnett were former Razorbacks while Tiner was a Little All-American Honorable Mention selection out of Central Arkansas (then Arkansas State Teachers College).

If this was a sports movie, the Diamonds would’ve defeated Norfolk, closed out the campaign with a win over the Texarkana Titans in front of a raucous crowd at War Memorial Stadium, and found enough money to set the stage for a bright future.

Real life, however, sometimes simply fades to black.

Norfolk thumped Arkansas, 55-14, and only 1,489 fans showed up to watch the Diamonds come up short against Texarkana, 42-38, on November 15.

The team never played another game.

Despite the selflessness of the players and financial kindness of both friends and strangers, it wasn’t enough to save the Diamonds. The club had a three-year financial plan that required 20 people to invest $15,000 each, but only 11 stepped up and the franchise folded on March 27, 1970.

“It came that close for being here three years,” Burnett said. “We had promised the commissioner (James Dunn) that if he’d let us finish the year, we’d either get a three-year program or none at all.”

Ironically, the entire league went under five months later, with many of the stronger franchises moving to the established Atlantic Coast Football League and its three Texas-based teams joining the new Trans-Atlantic Football League.

Overall, the history of the Arkansas Diamonds is hardly heartwarming. But for a few months in 1969, the heart shown by their players – and Continental Football League fans – made for a life-affirming story.

Potluck dining

The holidays are here and so are family gatherings, and that usually means various eating events. My most recent invitation involves “bringing a covered dish,” which brings me to today’s topic.

Now, I realize “bringing a covered dish” has been a tradition for almost as long as tradition has been a word. Also known as “potluck dinners,” “potluck suppers” and “Go help your Aunt Myrtle before she drops the vat of banana pudding on the driveway,” sharing grub in a communal setting is quite common. I’ve participated in these food fests so many times I can’t even count them.

But here’s the thing; I’m just not comfortable doing it anymore. I don’t know if it’s an age thing or what, but eating food prepared off-site and delivered in a dish with an aluminum foil cover is a big turn-off for me.

There was a time – many times, in fact – when I never questioned potluck dining. Hell, you could throw a hunk of bread in the air and I’d run up under it and try to catch it in my mouth like a dog. But alas, now I tend to overthink things.

For example, many years ago the place I worked would occasionally have potluck dinners, and I never hesitated to plop a big ol’ spoonful of green bean casserole, squash casserole or sweet potato casserole on my paper plate. Never asked who made it … never cared who made it.

And all of it was delicious. So delicious that I’d often stop chewing briefly and exclaim, “This is delicious!”

I imagined the squash came from a carefully tended garden, while the cheese was made of the finest Velveeta.

Green beans were expertly snapped by people who enjoyed doing such violence to green beans, and the fried onion toppings came directly from the Durkee family (probably delivered to the supermarket by the youngest Durkee, who was just learning the family business. I think his name is Dirk).

And sweet potatoes? Well, they had to be freshly picked from the nearest sweet potato tree before being squished up and smothered in cinnamon, brown sugar and chopped pecans.

My mouth waters just thinking about it (although in fairness I’ve had a drooling issue for the last couple of years so it could be just a coincidence).

Unfortunately, I just can’t do it anymore.

Now I pay close attention to the people who bring the covered dishes, and I begin to imagine what all took place during preparation.

Maybe the squash hit the floor and the cook, in an effort to pick it up, accidentally kicked it. As the yellow vegetable went tumbling across the sticky kitchen tile Tulip – the pit bull/toy poodle mix – picked it up and slobbered on it before it could be retrieved by the cook, who wiped it on an apron before cutting it up with a rusty pocket knife.

And green beans? I think back to my mother sitting on the couch snapping them, an unfiltered Pall Mall cigarette dangling from her lips while she made an odd, kennel cough-like noise.

As for sweet potatoes, those damn things are filthy – and no amount of apron wiping would get Tulip’s drool off of them.

Look, if you saw me bring a covered dish to a potluck situation, I wouldn’t expect you to eat it, either. I have two dogs and two cats plus I mindlessly scratch myself sometimes. I can’t say with certainly I always wash my hands after dealing with an itch on or near my nether regions.

So now I’m faced with a dilemma of having to go to a potluck dinner and bringing my own covered dish. Fortunately, I was not asked to bring anything specific, which means I can go to the nearest supermarket and get some kind of pie or cake prepared by the culinary staff.

How do I know these people are any cleaner that the homemade casserole bakers? I don’t.

But I will assume they don’t have a dog running around in their kitchen and that gives me a sense of peace. It also helps to see a health department score posted. If it’s 98 or better, I’m good.

If it’s 75 or below with a note that reads, “Raccoon activity detected in pantries,” I’m outta there.

As for eating at a potluck function, that’s really not an issue. When you’re among a group of people, you can simply make your plate, be seen walking with your plate, and then set the plate down somewhere. Then you just wander off, and if someone does notice, you start a fire in a trash can and create a diversion.

Honestly, I wish I could go back to the old days of eating unvetted food. It was almost always good, I never once got sick, and I’m really missing out on some delicious homemade fare.

But I’ve already talked myself out of it now. And that means as soon as I’m done with covered dish obligations, I’ll head to the nearest fast food place and get a large serving of French fries.

Sure, one of the fries might’ve hit the floor before it made it to the container, but fortunately hot grease kills germs.

At least that’s what I choose to believe.

‘A meaning to the purpose’

**Birmingham Squadron assistant coach Mery Andrade talks with center James Banks during a Tuesday practice.**

There was a time not so long ago when a men’s basketball team looking to fill out its coaching staff sought the best man for the job. These days, they look for the best person – and in the case of the NBA G League Birmingham Squadron (formerly Erie BayHawks), the New Orleans Pelicans affiliate found her in Mery Andrade.

Since 2014 the NBA has featured 14 female coaches; this season there are seven on staff. And the G League has been even more forward thinking. Nancy Lieberman was named head coach of the Texas Legends back in 2010, becoming the first woman to be appointed head coach of a men’s professional basketball team. And in 2021-22 Andrade and Agua Caliente Clippers coach Natalie Nakase are the two female assistants in the Association’s developmental circuit.

“During my third year in college coaching I was thinking about making a change,” said Andrade, a Cape Verde native. “One of my best friends, Chasity Melvin, had just done the ACP, which is the NBA Assistant Coaching Program, and it helps former NBA and WNBA players figure out what they want to do after they’re done playing. In my case I already knew because I was already coaching, but you go into this really intense program that gives you a peek into what coaching is going to be like. I had a chance to do two tournaments, the PIT (Portsmouth Invitational Tournament), which is a pre-combine, and the combine itself, and from April to September we had online classes where we talked with coaches in the NBA and G League, and went over scouting reports and the technology behind the scouting and all that kind of stuff.”

In what amounted to both on-the-job training and an interview, Andrade caught the eye of Pelicans’ executives.

“Trajan Langdon (Pelicans general manager) and David Griffin (Pelicans vice president of basketball operations) saw me at the combine and asked for my information, and we ended up talking,” she said. “And they invited me to be part of the family. That was my journey.”

This season is Andrade’s third working on Ryan Pannone’s G League staff, spending her first two in Erie before the team moved south. She began her coaching career much earlier, though.

“I coached before at the college level (University of San Diego from 2015-19) and some at the professional level in Europe,” Andrade explained. “But there was some adjustment just because the rules of the G League are not the same as Europe and college. And it’s an experimental league, so there are always rules that change. And of course this is also a league where one day you have one set of players and then on another you have your best player called up and you have a new player sent down.

“That changes a lot of how you prepare for the game. That’s the biggest adjustment for me, going from having the same team every day to one that changes.”

As a player, Andrade initially gained fame as a member of Wendy Larry’s Old Dominion Lady Monarchs. During her time in Norfolk (1995-99) she helped the squad make three Sweet 16 appearances and was part of the team that played in the national championship game in 1999. She was named Colonial Athletic Association co-Player of the Year and Defensive Player of the Year for the 1998-99 campaign and was inducted into the ODU Hall of Fame in 2010.

Andrade played professionally with the Cleveland Rockers (she was the 23^rd overall pick in the 1999 WNBA Draft) and then Charlotte Sting in the Women’s Basketball Association. Later she made her roundball living internationally, including a two decade stint with the Portugal Women’s National Team.

“I think the imprint that Coach Larry left on me was her passion because I thought she had the same passion for the game that I had,” Andrade said. “I think that made me comfortable looking back knowing that I was a passionate player and could also be a passionate coach. And I am … sometimes that’s good, sometimes it’s not so good, and that’s been an adjustment. I kind of struggled with that my first year in San Diego.

“But all the coaches I’ve had were passionate about the game so they all left a print on me. Until this day I still call them. I remember when I got selected to coach in the combine it was the highest level I’d ever coached, and I was nervous that first game so I called my coach in Italy and talked to him and after that I called my coach in Portugal and talked to them and they both told me, ‘Why be nervous … it’s basketball.’ And then I was, ‘Oh, OK.’”

Her desire to coach, however, wasn’t immediate.

“I didn’t really know I wanted to coach when I was in college,” she explained. “Everybody I played with always told me, ‘You’re going to be a coach” but I was like, ‘No I’m not.’ And they’d tell me I was already a coach on the floor. And actually two years in Italy I was a player/coach because on the team I played with, an assistant got fired and the head coach told me I already knew the system and my teammates respected me so I should coach, too. At that point I learned that side of the game and to see it through different eyes, and that was in 2011-12. After that I coached U-14 teams, U-17 teams and helped out with the Portuguese National Team, and then I went to the University of San Diego as an assistant.”

Andrade has a full plate as a Squadron coach, a job that doesn’t stop when practice ends.

“I’m responsible for helping run practice, run drills, scouting, player development, and on top of being an assistant coach, I deal with player development off the court,” she said. “I try to use my experience as a former player to make them understand that this is a transitional league so this is not where you want to get stuck. Last year, 10 of the 13 players on Milwaukee’s championship team passed through the G League. So I try to make them understand that, but also sometimes you’ll get thrown curve balls with injury, family, mental health … you don’t know what can happen, so you need to have a plan B, C and D so you don’t find yourself lost.”

While the G League roster spot is one step closer to the NBA, sometimes that step is never taken.

“That happens a lot with athletes because when we play and we’re professional athletes, we want to feel like we’re kings and queens, but that’s not the reality,” Andrade said. “I come from a humble family and that always kept me anchored to the ground. Even when I could afford extravagant stuff I was like, ‘No, my mom works hard to have one-tenth of what I have right now.’ And I think with the youth now, sometimes it’s hard to bring them to the reality because they have stuff for free and have to learn you still have to work hard. I don’t know everything, but I try to find resources through the Pelicans organization, people that can come to them to talk about everything from finance to nutrition – every area that will make them a better player, better person – anything they need.

“But I always remind them that when the ball stops bouncing – and I hope the ball bounces for 20 years like it did for me – but we don’t know and when it does, we have to have a backup plan.”

Of course she also wants to make sure an athlete doesn’t give up too soon. Had she listened to those around her, her playing career would’ve ended five years before she left the game on her own terms.

“As a competitor you always want the next thing, but even though I want that yesterday, when I played – especially toward the end of my career – I learned how to leave with my feet up,” she said. “I stopped playing when I was 40 and I got a very serious injury when I was 35 and people said, ‘You’re done,’ and I said, ‘No, I’m done when I say I’m done.’ I don’t want my career to be over due to an injury, and that’s not how I want to remember how my career ended or how I want other people to remember it. So I wound up playing five more years and those five years were my best years.

“For 35 years I played with a purpose and those last five years I played with a meaning to the purpose.”

Although her job has changed, her philosophy hasn’t.

“Right now I coach with a purpose because we want to win games, we want the guys to get better and get to the next level,” Andrade said. “But at the same time, I have a meaning to it. That allows me the purpose to advance, so hopefully next year I’ll be a two-way (player development) coach or an assistant coach in the NBA. I don’t know … I’ll leave it in God’s hands. He’s given me a set of skills and I work on my craft and do the best I can and if the opportunity happens, I hope I’m ready.”

With all Mery Andrade has already accomplished, it’s a safe bet that she’s more than ready now.

“It was always a dream of mine to coach pro, but until a decade ago maybe that wasn’t possible for a woman to coach on the men’s side,” she said. “But things have changed and I hope they keep changing so I can see my dream come true.

“I can’t give you a time frame, but I know I want to coach in the NBA. Hopefully it’ll happen sooner than later.”