Time to fan up

I’ve been a fan of professional basketball for so long I couldn’t begin to tell you exactly when it started.

I know I was first and foremost a follower of the American Basketball Association in the late 1960s and early 1970s, wowed by those red, white and blue basketballs, high scores and eventually the New York Nets and Julius Irving.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

Then I began paying more attention the Los Angeles Lakers and the National Basketball Association. As part of a grammar school project I had to draw the name of a state from a hat and write a letter to a business located there, requesting information about their organization. I drew California and chose the Lakers (mainly because I liked Happy Hairston and had recently seen them on TV) and in a couple of weeks I received a sheet of paper containing autographs of the players (a reproduction, but it still went up on my bedroom wall), a schedule, and team picture.

Man, that was great, and that cemented them as my favorite NBA team (until the 1976 merger, when they had to settle for the silver medal behind the Nets).

As for the G League, I became a fan when ESPN+ started televising games back in 2018. I was a Birmingham native living in Greenville, South Carolina, at the time, so there was no hometown or adopted town team to cheer for. And really, that made things easier for me.

Since I’d followed the Nets through two leagues, two states and eight arenas, it stood to reason I’d make their developmental team “mine.”

So I did. Starting three years ago, the Long Island Nets became my favorite second tier men’s professional basketball squad. And I figured they’d maintain that position until the Brooklyn Nets decided to relocate them.

But …

Now I’m back in Birmingham, which is home of the Birmingham Squadron. And having a team in my hometown compels me to pull for them, even though they’re the affiliate of the New Orleans Pelicans.

Thing is, even the Pelicans themselves weren’t always fans of the Pelicans.

Take Birmingham coach Ryan Pannone. A native of Clearwater, Florida, he had a team located just over a hundred miles away.

But that wasn’t the one he originally cheered for.

“The first NBA team that I followed was the Chicago Bulls, because of Michael Jordon,” Pannone said following Wednesday’s practice. “And then later the Orlando Magic, being from Florida. The first NBA game I ever got a chance to go to was when (Shaquille O’Neal) was traded to the Lakers and he was coming back to play Orlando, and we had nosebleed seats for the game.”

The Squadron’s leading scorer, Jared Harper, grew up in Metro Atlanta. So it stood to reason he’d get behind the hometown Hawks.

“The Hawks were definitely my favorite team and then maybe the Lakers, because Kobe (Bryant) was always my favorite player growing up,” said Harper, who averages 20.5 points per game. “With the Hawks being the home team, I had to follow them. But I just like basketball in general, so I watched all the games when I was a kid.”

After playing at Auburn, Harper had stints with the Phoenix Suns and New York Knicks organizations before signing with the Pelicans in September.

“I knew that I had trained to be in the NBA and that’s where I wanted to be,” Harper said. “So it just came down to having an opportunity from whichever team gave me one, regardless of who I might’ve cheered for growing up.”

And what’s my relationship with the Pelicans?

Frankly, I never had one.

I didn’t cheer for them when they were the Charlotte Hornets, or when they relocated to New Orleans, or when they finally shucked the Hornets nick for Pelicans. I didn’t hate them or anything, I just didn’t follow them or pay much attention unless they played Brooklyn or L.A.

But now I’m interested. When a guy from the Squadron moves up, I want to chart his progress. And when a Pelican is assigned to the Squadron, I want to see him play. That’s just the nature of fandom when you follow a minor league sport.

For example, in Major League Baseball I cheer for the New York Yankees in the American League and Chicago Cubs in the National.

My dad used to tell me of going to Birmingham Barons games back in the 50s when they were a Yankees’ farm club, and I guess that prompted me to favor the Bronx Bombers.

As for the Cubs, I watched Ernie Banks play on a Saturday afternoon NBC game once, thought he represented everything a baseball player was supposed to be, and decided I liked the Baby Bears.

The modern day Barons are affiliates of the Chicago White Sox, and have been since 1986. That means since 1986 I’ve kept tabs on the ChiSox to see how former Barons are faring in the bigs. I don’t consider myself a fan, but when I see an ex-Birmingham player step between the white lines for the South Siders, I want him to do well.

And that’s one of the beauties of sports; how you express your fandom is entirely up to you. I can support guys because they’re wearing Cubs uniforms, but I can also support guys despite the fact that they’re wearing White Sox threads.

And Sunday at 5 p.m., Birmingham’s newest team will finally play in friendly confines when the Squadron hosts Mexico City at newly renovated Legacy Arena. A league I’ve followed on TV is one I can now follow in person. And it’s cool to think that so many kids will get to see their first live basketball game this weekend. Hopefully it’ll be an unforgettable experience for them.

“It’s something you always remember,” Pannone said. “For me it was something I did with my dad. That always sticks out, especially because my father’s passed away and we were just talking the other day about some of our best memories. I got to see my first NBA game with my dad, and they were Christmas Day tickets. That’s pretty special.”

When I watch the NBA – as of the 2021-22 season – I’ll cheer for the Nets always, the Lakers unless they’re playing the Nets, and the Pelicans unless they’re playing the Nets or Lakers.

But the Squadron? Hey, I’ll always root for the home team – along with Pelicans players who once called Birmingham home.

For ticket information go to birmingham.gleague.nba.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.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

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.