Scott Adamson, Author at Adamsonmedia.com

Supersized NFL bummed me out

For a young kid who was in love with pro football, 1970 should’ve been my favorite year.

**Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl and Instagram @adamsons60**

With the merger of the National Football League and the American Football League official, the NFL was now a one-stop shop for the ultimate in gridiron competition. Twenty-six teams, two conferences – shoot, ABC was even going to start televising games every Monday evening throughout the season.

I could stay up late on a school night and watch football, and that was a pretty dang big deal.

Instead, while other nine-year-olds were thinking about Lassie saving some idiot kid from quicksand or the Brady Bunch playing in their AstroTurfed backyard, I was mourning the death of the two-point conversion.

See, I was an AFL guy. Considering my age I was probably more of an urchin than guy, but the point is “my” pro football league was the junior circuit.

It was wide-open, filled with fascinating characters who played with sandlot sensibilities. There was nothing quite as fun as watching aerial battles at muddy Shea Stadium in New York, muddier Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum in the Bay Area or muddiest War Memorial Stadium in Buffalo.

But because of the merger, the AFL was reined in, cleaned up and stripped of its identity.

The four-man competition committee, which met in the spring of 1970, voted to eliminate the two-point conversion and take a bit of fun and strategy out of the game. In the AFL days, if a team trailed 35-28 and scored with no time left on the clock, it could go for the win.

Going forward and faced with the same scenario in the expanded NFL, it could only hope to settle for a tie.

The committee also voted to use the NFL ball instead of the more pointed AFL ball, the latter designed for passing and one that helped turn guys like Joe Namath, George Blanda, Jack Kemp and Daryle Lamonica into stars.

The only concessions the AFL got was the approval for players to wear names on the backs of their jerseys (whoop-de-do) and official time being kept on the scoreboard (I didn’t care if Dingus the feral groundskeeper kept official time).

And worse – at least from my standpoint – was that the Baltimore Colts, Pittsburgh Steelers and Cleveland Browns joined the 10 former AFL members in the new American Football Conference.

I didn’t so much care about adding the Steelers and Browns, but Super Bowl III was one of my greatest sports memories as the Jets stunned the world (or at least the part of the world that cared about football) with a 16-7 upset of the Colts.

That would never happen again because now the two teams were not only in the same conference, they were in the same division.

It all seemed wrong – like having the friend who lived in your middle class neighborhood suddenly move into a big mansion in a ritzy part of town.

It’s not that I disliked the NFL or anything. Just as the Jets, Namath and Weeb Ewbank were my favorite team, player and coach in the AFL (and all of pro football), the Los Angeles Rams, Roman Gabriel and George Allen had my allegiance in the older league. But I enjoyed the AFL more – much more – and relished the fact that they were separate entities.

Joining forces made the game bigger, but not necessarily better from my standpoint.

Of course it was a business decision that made perfect business sense. No longer would there be bidding wars between leagues and the merger ensured that all the franchises would be sustainable.

But I didn’t care about any of that stuff. I was nine, and my idea of business was trading my G.I. Joe with lifelike hair and beard for your G.I. Joe with kung-fu grip – and adding a dollar to sweeten the deal. I never demanded that football teams open their books and explain their financials.

So the AFL died hard for me 50 years ago when the modern NFL was born. While ultimately it was best for professional football,

I missed the old neighborhood – and all that fun in the mud.

Baseball’s third major league

The history of professional sports is full of stories that end with the big fish swallowing the little fish.

The American Basketball Association couldn’t match the money of the National Basketball Association, so the result was the NBA absorbing a handful of ABA franchises.

Same thing happened when the World Hockey Association ran out of gas in its quest to skate side-by-side with the National Hockey League.

Even the American Football League – which had become the equal of the National Football League – wound up playing under the NFL banner when the circuits combined.

But pulling off a “merger” without ever fielding a club – well, that’s impressive. And that’s basically what the Continental League of Professional Baseball Clubs did 60 years ago this month.

The idea for a third major league was unveiled on July 27, 1959, courtesy of New York lawyer William Shea. When the Dodgers and Giants left the Big Apple for Los Angeles and San Francisco, respectively, Shea lobbied both the NL and AL for an expansion franchise. New York had once shown it could support two other teams aside from the Yankees, and he knew fans would welcome a second team in the nation’s largest city.

But the big leagues weren’t interested, so Shea decided to be proactive and form a brand new circuit.

“We anticipate the cooperation of organized baseball,” Shea told United Press International. “But we’re all in this to stay and we’re not going to back out no matter what. It can’t cost them a thing. It creates vast new areas of interest and income with no risk on their part. On what grounds would they object to a deal like this?”

New York would be the crown jewel of the league and play in a brand new stadium. Other cities under consideration were Buffalo, Montreal, Atlanta, New Orleans, Portland, San Diego, Miami, Indianapolis, Dallas-Fort Worth, Seattle, and San Juan.

The league would begin play in 1961 with a minimum of eight clubs, each playing a 154-game schedule. It would create jobs for roughly 200 players and Shea envisioned a unique Fall Classic.

“A round-robin World Series would be a great spectacle,” he said. “Of course, the Continental League’s champion might not win it for a while, but can you picture anyone saying it’s not big league when it does?”

Shea brought in plenty of big money men to help jumpstart the league, and all were serious about getting up and running quickly.

“I believe the major leagues are sincere in their expressed wishes to help in the expansion of their game,” said former Western League President Edwin C. Johnson, who had also previously served as Colorado’s governor and senator. “But I also know major league baseball fears two things – the courts and Congress. We don’t want to start a war, but we’re not afraid of one.”

Perhaps the greatest boost to the upstart’s credibility came when 77-year old Branch Rickey was brought on board as president. Not only had he signed Jackie Robinson to break Major League Baseball’s color barrier, he was also the pioneer of the modern farm system. In terms of front office prestige, no name was bigger than Rickey’s.

“Our league will definitely be ready to operate in 1961 and I intend to devote my remaining years to seeing it prosper,” Rickey told the Associated Press. “I’m not worried about my age. My doctor told me I’ll live just as long active as I would inactive.

“This is a great challenge to me. It’s a great challenge to the citizenship of the country. It’s a great challenge to the majors themselves. They need to do it and I think they will. Several of the club owners are ready to embrace it.”

He also made it clear that it was in MLB’s best interest to accept the Continental League.

“We want your cooperation, we need your cooperation, we demand your cooperation,” he said. “I’m convinced a third major league will do baseball, especially the National and American League, a great deal of good.”

By the summer of 1960 the new league announced eight flagship franchises in New York, Minneapolis-St. Paul, Dallas-Fort Worth, Houston, Denver, Toronto, Atlanta and Buffalo. NL and AL owners wouldn’t listen to Shea before, but they had to listen to him now – especially since he was intent on luring players from their leagues to his.

But before any of the new teams could sign stadium deals or even get nicknames, the big league establishment offered quite a compromise. If the Continental League disbanded immediately, the two major leagues would agree to expand to four of its cities ASAP and put franchises in all of them eventually.

For Shea, whose primary concern was getting New York back in the National League, that was all he needed to hear.

“We accomplished the job I started and I believe (New York City) will be one of the first to get a team,” Shea told AP. “It’s been a lot of work, but I set out to get a team for New York three years ago and this is it.”

Major League Baseball Commissioner Ford Frick was happy to avoid a crisis.

“I always have been in favor of expansion and I’m happy the move has been made peacefully,” he said.

Thanks to the threat of a Continental League, the American League added the Minnesota Twins and Los Angeles Angels in 1961 (The Twins moved from Washington. D.C., although a new Washington Senators team replaced them that same season).

In 1962, the New York Mets and Houston Colt .45s joined the National League. Ultimately, seven of the original Continental League cities are now MLB cities, although Buffalo is still waiting.

Not a bad legacy for a league that never played a game, huh?

My soccer coaching career was never meant to be

Shortly after I put the newspaper business in my rear-view mirror back in 2017, I decided I’d try to do things I never had time to do during my 30 years covered in ink. One of those things involved coaching soccer – or at least exploring the option of coaching soccer.

Having not played competitively since 1978, I was a bit rusty on technique and tactics. And having never coached the game at all, I was flying blind when it came to Xs and Os. Sure, I had watched enough EPL matches to know I had the option of dressing up on game day (like Manchester United’s Ole Gunnar Solskjær) or dressing down (Liverpool’s Jürgen Klopp), but figured fashion wasn’t a priority at the outset of my new career.

So what did I do to prepare for my side hustle?

I bought the book “Coaching Soccer For Dummies.”

It has helpful information on everything from how to structure a practice to teaching the basic fundamentals of the game, and it brought back memories of my training days. The more I read the more I thought I could do it, and soon I had visions of guiding my ragtag group of underdogs (the club’s name would be Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon FC) to victory over snooty Trust Fund SC in the finals of the Blue Ridge Mountains Cup.

And then years later, as I’m wandering pantless in an assisted living facility, one of my former players – who went on to win the Ballon d’Or after leading Celtic FC to a Champions League title – would track me down and thank me for inspiring him to greatness.

Then again I might’ve wound up coaching a girls’ team, meaning one of my former players – who went on to win the Best FIFA Women’s Player honor after leading the USWNT to yet another World Cup title – would track me down and thank me for inspiring her to greatness.

Either way, I’d get a lot of credit (and be pantless).

However, the book also takes a darker turn because it assumes you’ll have to “effectively communicate with parents.” It then goes on to detail how you should deal with those who are abusive, parents who complain about their child’s playing time, policies on participation, perceived preferential treatment, soccer as a babysitting service, etc.

And after reading that I decided I was not going to spend the fun years of my life coaching soccer. It’s nothing against parents – I had two of them – but I simply can’t deal with critical moms and dads anymore.

I don’t want to have to explain to Johnny’s ill-tempered father why Johnny is not my starting center midfielder, even though Johnny once attended a camp hosted by a player who knew a guy who was almost a Bundesliga coach but opted to sell insurance instead.

Nor do I want to be berated by Jenny’s mother, who demands that I start Jenny in goal even though Jenny’s the shortest player on the squad and has the reflexes of a ficus tree.

I dealt with these types of people throughout my time in newspapers, and do not want to deal with them ever again.

Honestly, though, I’m not sure what I expected when I thought I might do a little association football mentoring. The lack of a coaching background is a pretty big strike against me. And even though I have friends in the college and high school ranks, I don’t think any of them are looking to hire older, inexperienced assistants.

That meant youth soccer was my only foot-in-the-door option, but really that wasn’t an option, either. It’s gotten to be an expensive, cutthroat business. Parents need Thurston and Lovey Howell riches to get their kids on these “elite” teams, and they want high level coaches who’ll promise to give them their money’s worth.

That’s something I couldn’t promise.

And as much as I admire the legends of the profession like Sir Alex Ferguson and Rinus Michels, I fear my style would be a bit too experimental, especially for kids. While the big shots of world football might’ve successfully employed 4-3-3, 4-4-2, or even the 3-3-3-1 formations, I always wanted to see what would happen with a 1-1-9 attack. Sure, it leaves your defense exposed, but it would be quite the showcase for offensive-minded players.

So three years after thinking about coaching soccer, I think about coaching soccer no more. I admire those who do – from the men and women who guide kids at recreation fields in Birmingham, Alabama, to my buddies leading university squads in North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia, to the gaffers who run the show at places like Allianz Arena in Munich and Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in London. But I guess when it comes to the Beautiful Game, I’m more of a follower than a leader.

And since I’ve been following soccer the better part of my life, why change now?