Scott Adamson, Author at Adamsonmedia.com

Lou Saban and the USFA

With the National Spring Football League over before it even started in 1990 – and the World League of American Football a few months from kickoff – the battle to fill the spring football void should’ve been over.

It wasn’t.

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

Before anyone could ask, “What was the NSFL, again?” the United States Football Association entered the picture. On October 8, 1990, it was reported that the USFA would hold a news conference in Portland on October 10 to announce the Oregon city as the first member of the new league. Dick Seuss, coach of the Oregon Thunderbolts semi-pro team, was leading the Portland effort.

“I was in on the first two or three United States Football League meetings, and I think their thoughts at the time were absolutely correct,” USFA commissioner Lou Saban told The World newspaper. “We think spring football can work. Our people have learned from what happened with the USFL. We know that we’re only as strong as our weakest link.”

Saban, of course, was already well-established in the football world, having coached in the NFL, American Football League and college ranks, and earning back-to-back AFL Coach of the Year nods while guiding the Buffalo Bills in 1964 and 1965. By the time the 68-year-old assumed his USFA duties, he had held 15 different coaching posts. The last was a four-game stint with a Minor League Football System team in Georgia (the Middle Georgia Heat Wave) and the three previous to that were at the high school level.

He had developed a reputation for abruptly quitting jobs, leaving the Bills twice.

But this was a new gig and new adventure, and he hoped he could help the upstart circuit cull the best parts of the USFL.

“We’re trying to borrow from the USFL name as close as possible,” he said. “We’re still trying to establish a financial foundation. We’re still in the preliminary stage. I think within the next week or so, we’ll have a platform to work from.”

Original plans called for eight to 10 teams to play a March through early July schedule. The first franchises announced were the Portland Predators and Tampa Bay Bandits, and Saban said the league had contacted potential investors in Jacksonville, Miami, Mobile, Salt Lake City, Norfolk, Sacramento, Oakland, Fresno and Scranton.

Jim Spavital, who was coach of the World Football League’s Chicago Fire and general manager of the USFL’s Michigan Panthers, was supposed to help put together the Tampa Bay entry.

The player pool would be made up of athletes “not quite good enough for the National Football League,” Saban said.

Portland set up tryouts for October 21, and two weeks later, Tampa held its camp with Saban on hand to observe.

“I’ve been involved in football tryouts every year that I can remember for a long time,” Saban told the Tampa Tribune. “I just went through a tryout in Macon where we had 150 guys in the first camp, 100 the second and 125 in the third, and I can tell you they don’t fool you too many times.

“Usually, they can look at the guys running the 40 and doing chin-ups and know right away whether or not they’ve got a chance.”

I have no idea how any of the hopefuls fared in those events.

In fact, I don’t know much of anything involving the USFA after its initial announcement and news of the Oregon and Florida tryouts. Like many other leagues that exist only in theory, it just disappeared.

In February, 1991, Saban announced he was interested in becoming the athletic director at the University of Miami, where he coached from 1977-78. But just a couple of months later he was back coaching, this time at NAIA Division II Peru State in Nebraska. Every story I could find mentioned his job history – sometimes in great detail – but none referenced the United States Football Association or its would-be commissioner.

So we’ll never know what kind of cool rules the USFA would’ve come up with, whether it could’ve snagged a TV contract, and how it would’ve fared trying to occupy the same space as the WLAF. And that’s a shame, because I’ve always felt the rivalry between the Portland Predators and Tampa Bay Bandits could’ve been one of the best in all of sports – at least until the league folded.

Condo life

In just a couple of weeks, I’ll be celebrating the one-year anniversary of moving back to the greater Birmingham metro area. Well, “celebrating” is probably too strong a word.

Most likely I’ll look at the calendar and say, “Hey Mary, did you know that today marks the one-year anniversary of moving back to the greater Birmingham metro area?”

“No,” she’ll say.

“Well, it is,” I’ll say.

“OK,” she’ll say.

We’ll then trade obligatory fist-bumps and go about our business.

To me the bigger headline, though, is that it’ll also be a year that I’ve lived in a condominium. Before resettling here, my only experience with condos has been renting one while at the beach, trying not to break anything while I’m there and then signing a guestbook when I leave. Honestly, it never crossed my mind to actually stay in one longer than a week.

But here we are, and now when anyone asks, “I wonder what it’s like to live in a condo?” I can answer with a certain degree of expertise.

In some ways, it’s like living in a small country with its own government. For our purposes, we’ll call it the Democratic Republic of Condo (or DRC for short). Over time, those who live here have compiled a set of rules and regulations and we who take up residence in DRC are compelled to follow them.

It is the way.

Among the rules is a certain amount of uniformity to the outside appearance of each unit. I mean, you don’t have to have identical wreaths on your doors or similar balcony décor, but there are basic standards.

For example, if I wanted to have a life-size, animatronic Beetlejuice on the balcony (and I do), I’d have to run it by the DRC board. This hasn’t come up because I’ve yet to find a life-size, animatronic Beetlejuice, but if and when I do you can bet your ass I’m calling for a vote.

But just as the condo community itself is like a government, the inside of each unit is akin to an embassy with its occupants serving as ambassadors. Thus, we can do pretty much whatever we like in terms of feng shui because it’s private space and not shared space and we are masters of our internal domain.

This is important for many reasons, not the least of which is if I do find a life-size, animatronic Beetlejuice and the Board rules that it would violate DRC standards to place him on the balcony, I can just move him inside.

I’d probably place him in the den, sitting in a chair next to the area that features a replica of the 1966 Batmobile, Mechagodzilla statue and Puss in Boots figurine. It would be a bit ostentatious, but I see no need to apologize for my sense of style.

Now, even though each unit is an embassy, we still try to be respectful of those who occupy other embassies, especially adjoining ones. We have people beside us and someone below us, and we learned quickly that the walls are relatively thin here. It’s hard to hear every word of a conversation coming from another unit, but you can usually at least follow the plot.

Also, I tend to be heavy-footed when I trundle around the condo, so I worry that I might disturb the downstairs neighbor. Since we have hardwood floors and no carpet, I imagine the sound is magnified even more.

That being the case, I wear fuzzy slippers and try to walk slower and more softly when the neighbor is home. Only when they leave do I crank up AC/DC to 11 or break into my one-man “Riverdance” show, trading in fuzzy slippers for jazz shoes.

So, is living in a condo better than living in a house?

It all depends on your lifestyle.

I kinda miss cutting grass, but our old house had a small yard, so it wasn’t that much of a chore.

And of course, being able to turn on the stereo full blast and engage in traditional Irish music and dance is easier to do in an unattached structure.

But overall, condo life is like any kind of life; it’s what you make of it.

The inside of our unit is cozy, comfortable and appealing to the eyes; the balcony offers a beautiful view of the sunset; all our neighbors are warm and friendly; and we have restaurants, a movie theater and supermarket within easy walking distance.

Really, about the only thing missing right now is a life-size, animatronic Beetlejuice.

If you happen to come across one, please let me know. After all, This is an election year and I need to start lining up votes.

Maynard and the NSFL

I became a fan of Don Maynard in the 1960s and grew obsessed with alternative football in the 1970s, so how come I’m just now learning that Maynard was once the commissioner of an alt-league?

Yep, Joe Namath’s favorite target was also the top administrator of the National Spring Football League, which was formed in 1990 with a projected start date of 1991.

News of the NSFL dates back to early January, 1990, when United Press International reported that the league was looking at placing franchises in cities in Iowa, Nebraska and Oklahoma, and already had owner commitments for teams in Chicago and Tampa Bay.

By early spring the NSFL had supposedly already finalized its inaugural season plans. The first eight franchises would be located in New Jersey, Chicago, Tampa Bay and Texas – making up the East Division – while Los Angeles, Portland, Sacramento and Hawaii would be in the West. Tentative plans called for either the all-star game or championship to be played in Japan, and future expansion plans included the possibility of placing teams in Australia, Japan, Mexico and New Zealand.

“We feel New Zealand and Australia are the future frontiers of American football,” Maynard told the New York Times. “Because of the sporting backgrounds of those nations, it is conceivable teams could be made up utilizing local talent within a period of a few years.”

The cost of a franchise was $125,000, plus $150,000 to be set aside for operation of the league and another $300,000 for what founder and CEO Bill Byrne called a “rainy day fund.”

Teams’ operation cap would be $3.5 million with $1.5 going to salaries.

A 14-game season was to begin in March, 1991, and NBC was touted as a possible TV partner.

One of the reasons I was unfamiliar with the NSFL is probably due to the fact that the National Football League had already announced plans to launch the World League of American Football in 1991 (which included the Birmingham Fire). Also playing in the spring, it was hard to imagine any other league trying to compete with something backed by NFL money.

But Byrne insisted the quality of play in his league would be better.

“We’re not a supplemental league or minor league or a developmental league,” Byrne told the Honolulu Advertiser for a March 27, 1990, story.

Tampa Bay owner Charles Yancy believed sticking to a spring schedule and steering clear of the NFL was the key to sustainability.

“To tell you the truth, the success of the whole league will be up to the owners,” he told UPI. “If we can get the right ownership groups, I know we can have a great league. If we try to go against the NFL, we could have another doomsday. It’s not like 1960, when you can merge with the NFL.

“This is 1990. Things are completely different. We’re not trying to be the NFL. We’re trying to be a professional football league in the spring and summer.”

Byrnes agreed there would never be a suicidal switch to fall, a move that doomed the United States Football League of the early 1980s.

“Hell, no,” Byrnes said. “That’s etched in stone. You’d have to be crazy and stupid to think about taking on the NFL.”

By June the new league held meetings and confirmed that the first six franchises would be placed in Charlotte, Chicago, Ohio, Portland, Southern California and Tampa Bay, and as many as six more would be named at an October summit of NSFL officials.

“I’m very excited with the outcome of these meetings,” Maynard said. “This league will give a lot of opportunities to players, coaches and front office people who might otherwise not get a chance. I think our concept will work.”

Yeah, about that …

The last mention I found of the NSFL came in the October 8, 1990, edition of The World newspaper of Coos Bay, Oregon. In a story about Portland getting a franchise in the newly formed United States Football Association, it was stated that:

Four months ago, a group called the National Spring Football League announced that Portland would be one of its charter members. The NSFL, which also planned to play in the spring, had Hall of Fame receiver Don Maynard as its commissioner. Since then, that effort died off.

The story went on to say that the USFA was trying to pick up where the NSFL left off and had named Lou Saban its commissioner.

Sadly, I never got to enjoy my favorite pass catcher run an off-brand football league. I would have rooted for him and it. But learning about it wasn’t a total loss. If I hadn’t researched this topic, I wouldn’t have found out about the USFA.

That’s the subject of next Monday’s column.