The NASL’s Team America experiment

Long before there was a fully functioning United States Men’s National Soccer Team – and long before the USMNT fell into dysfunction – there was a professional franchise known as Team America.

Scott Adamson’s column on soccer appears periodically, usually when he’s feeling especially soccerish.

Blink and you might’ve missed them, but for those of us who followed the original North American Soccer League during its spectacular rise and equally spectacular fall, this one-and-done club is a unique part of its history.

Formed on January 20, 1983, and disbanded on September 13 of that same year, Team America was an idea much better in theory than in practice.

“The establishment of Team America will serve as a tremendous vehicle to enhance our chances of qualifying for the World Cup, soccer’s greatest spectacle,” United States Soccer Federation President Gene Edwards told United Press International during the launch announcement in New York. “It’s an exciting new endeavor – no country has ever placed its national team in a professional league – and will serve as an important step towards making the United States a viable force in international competition.”

The USMNT hadn’t been relevant since 1950 – the last year it qualified for the World Cup. Thirty-three years later the plan was to test the mettle of an American team against foes in a circuit whose stars were primarily from soccer hotbeds around the world.

The 20-player roster would be formed by taking the top United States players (including naturalized citizens) from the NASL, American Soccer League and Major Indoor Soccer League. To make sure Team America had the best athletes available in an effort to earn a berth in the 1986 World Cup, each NASL team had to nominate 40 players for consideration, with the expansion team allowed to sign away any who wanted to join.

“Team America is a landmark development as the United States prepares for international competition,” NASL President Howard Samuels told UPI. “A total commitment is being made by the United States soccer community, which believes that the U.S. can and will become a force in world soccer.”

I was hopeful that Team America would not only give domestic soccer a boost, but provide a loft to the NASL as well.

After its late 1970s heyday when huge crowds showed up to see players like Pele, George Best and Johan Cruyff, the league was struggling in the early 1980s.

Boasting 24 franchises in 1978, it was down to 12 in 1983 and fan interest was waning. Perhaps Team America would inspire new soccer supporters who were looking for a team to call their own (even though its home games were played in Washington D.C.) and reinvigorate the fan base for the rest of the league.

Nope.

The club averaged just over 13,000 fans for its matches at cavernous RFK Stadium. Plus, the team itself was punchless; some of the better American players such as Rick Davis of the New York Cosmos opted not to join.

“In the final analysis, it came down to a decision to where I could contribute to the development of the game more,” Davis told the Los Angeles Times. “The Cosmos have their own version of Team America. They have a very successful Americanization program that I’ve been an important part of. For many reasons, the best place for me at the moment is with the Cosmos.”

Due in part to the lack of top-tier U.S.-born players, Coach Alkis Panagoulias chose a team that had an abundance of naturalized citizens. He even added those who were in the process of applying for citizenship.

This would’ve been a non-story for any other NASL squad, but it strayed significantly from Team America’s “homegrown” mission.

Aside from finishing with a league-worst record of 10-20, Panagoulias’ charges netted just 33 goals the entire season and were shut out in 11 matches – making them unsuccessful and boring.

Less than eight months after it began, the experiment was over.

“The plan is to put Team America together next year as the U.S. team-in-training for the 1986 World Cup,” Samuels told the Chicago Tribune. “We’ll reassemble right after the indoor season.”

Spoiler alert: they did, but not as a member of the NASL. The franchise model was abandoned.

Team America owner Bob Lifton said he lost $1 million during the season and didn’t have many kind things to say about the experience.

“We were without the offensive strength we needed and that weakness showed up egregiously,” Lifton told the Tribune. “The team was certainly not a role model to the kids in this country.”

The USMNT would go on to reinvent itself and qualify for seven consecutive World Cups beginning in 1990 – including a quarterfinal run in 2002.

The squad missed the cut in 2018, however, and recent performances have done little to inspire confidence among supporters.

But while it’s interesting to look back at the tribulations of Team America, they really don’t have anything to do with the turbulent times the USMNT is going through now.

Then again, you know what they say about those who forget the past…

Hamilton is my CFL ‘home’

The Tiger-Cats have logged a 15-3 record in 2019, best in the CFL. (Geoff Robins/CFL.ca photo)

Ever see the episode of The Andy Griffith Show called Stranger In Town?

Scott Adamson writes about alternative pro football leagues because it makes him happy, Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

The plot centered around a character named Ed Sawyer, who arrived in Mayberry on a bus from “up north,” walked into Floyd’s barbershop, and acted as though he was friends with everyone there.

He also knew details about the town and the townsfolk, which creeped everyone out since they had no idea who he was.

Turns out Ed pored over copies of the Mayberry Gazette newspaper, which he borrowed from an Army buddy who hailed from the North Carolina town. Reading about the friendly little city caused Ed to fall in love with it and he saw Mayberry as “his” hometown – even if he’d never before been there.

As was always the case in The Andy Griffith Show there was a happy ending, with the citizens ultimately embracing Ed (even though he was never seen or heard from again in the series).

Regardless, I tell that story to tell this one: I’m basically Ed Sawyer when it comes to the Hamilton Tiger-Cats of the Canadian Football League.

Raised in Birmingham, Alabama, and currently living in Greenville, South Carolina, I’ve never been to Tim Hortons Field, never had a coffee and doughnut from Tim Hortons restaurant, never done the Oskee Wee Wee cheer with fellow fans, never visited the Canadian Football Hall of Fame.

Shoot, I’ve never been to Hamilton – or Canada, even though I very much want to visit.

But when the Tiger-Cats suit up from June through November, I might as well be a native because I cheer for the team like I was born at St. Joseph’s Hospital and educated at McMaster University (Go Marauders!).

If you’ve ever read me before you know that I started rooting for the Tiger-Cats back in the 1970s when CFL “games of the week” were rebroadcast on a local station.

My highly scientific reason for picking Hamilton as “my” team was because I liked their logo and black and gold color scheme.

Now in the interest of complete transparency I must confess that I cheated on the Ticats in 1995 when the Birmingham Barracudas were born.

I felt I had a moral obligation to pledge allegiance to a CFL team in the city I grew up in, although Hamilton remained my preferred international club.

And after the Tiger-Cats (almost) hired disgraced coach Art Briles as an assistant in the summer of 2017, they briefly lost me as a fan. To their credit officials almost immediately reversed their decision, admitting they made a “serious mistake” and correcting it.

Hey – family gets mad at family, then you get over it.

I got over it.

So aside from Birmingham’s cup of coffee during the “American experiment” and the Briles blunder, I’ve pulled for the Tiger-Cats in five different decades. And while there were many years where the only way I could keep track of them was to find scores from games buried in my newspaper, now I can watch every game they play thanks to ESPN.

And I do.

I’m not saying that during last Saturday’s 21-18 win over Toronto I was the only person in Greenville wearing a game-used Greg Randall jersey from 2006, but … well, actually I am saying that.

I also have an assortment of caps and T-shirts, and even find myself spreading the Ticats gospel from time to time.

A couple of weeks ago I was at a convenience store when the clerk asked if my Hamilton tee was in support of a high school team that he was unfamiliar with. I had to explain that it represented a Canadian professional squad born of the 1950 merger between the Hamilton Football Club Tigers and Hamilton Wildcats.

All I wanted was a Twix bar, but being able to drop some Tabbies knowledge on the dude was an added bonus.

Of course it’s quite easy to be a fan this year, especially since the team ran away with the East Division with a 15-3 record.

Having an affinity for wideouts (split end and kicker were the positions I played during my elementary school career), I’ve been a big fan of Luke Tasker since he joined the team in 2013.

And Brandon Banks – who has had a breakout year in 2019 – has quickly become my favorite player.

I was bummed when quarterback Jeremiah Masoli suffered a season-ending injury in July, but proud of how backup Dane Evans jumped in and earned his own medals as field general.

And what a debut for Orlondo Steinauer, who tied the CFL record for most wins by a rookie head coach.

Winning their division gives the Ticats a first round playoff bye this weekend, so I’ll be watching the Eastern semi-final between Edmonton and Montreal on Sunday to see who Hamilton gets on November 17.

Hopefully the Tiger-Cats will defeat either the Eskimos or the Alouettes and advance to the Grey Cup on November 24 (where the opponent will be either Saskatchewan, Calgary or Winnipeg). If that happens, my house will become the official CFL Embassy in Greenville as the game – for me – will be just as big as a Super Bowl.

So Tiger-Cats, know that I’m with you all the way and hope you go all the way.

Even though Mayberry wasn’t Ed Sawyer’s home town and Hamilton isn’t mine, it’s where my team plays.

And when you look at it that way, it seems a lot like home.

In Memoriam WFL

When football historians eye October 22, 1975, they probably see little more than a blip in gridiron history.

Scott Adamson writes about alternative pro football leagues because it makes him happy, Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

For fans like me, though, it marked the end of an all-too-brief era – one that gave us pro football one year and snatched it away the next.

On this day 44 years ago the World Football League died, buried under a mountain of debt and largely abandoned by fans who stayed away from games in droves.

Founded in 1974 with 12 franchises and a dream of one day fielding teams in such exotic locales as Tokyo, London and Madrid, the WFL never ventured further than Honolulu. It also burned a lot of goodwill by spending money it didn’t have and folding or moving franchises in the middle of its inaugural season.

By the time it breathed its last only 10 teams were in business – and business in 1975 was never very good at all.

“Our decision not to proceed is due primarily to our collective inability to penetrate markets in WFL franchise cities,” WFL commissioner Chris Hemmeter told United Press International after six of its 10 owners voted to dissolve the league. “The financial control concepts of the Hemmeter Plan have worked and we believe that the future of professional sports lies in a type of revenue sharing plan.”

Ah yes, the “Hemmeter Plan.”

Following the 1974 season that saw many players go unpaid because some of the owners didn’t have the money to match their moxie, original founder and Commissioner Gary Davidson was forced out. Hemmeter – owner of the franchise in Honolulu – was installed as the new commissioner in 1975 and put strict financial constraints in place.

The “Hemmeter Plan” was designed to make as many of the team’s costs as possible variable. And when it came to players, the standard contract was based on each man on the team receiving one percent of the gate – guaranteed.

If owners wanted to spend more money on a “star” player, they would have to put money in escrow to cover it.

So the season began with 11 franchises – the Birmingham Vulcans, Charlotte Hornets, Chicago Winds, The (Honolulu) Hawaiians, Jacksonville Express, Memphis Southmen, Philadelphia Bell, Portland Thunder, San Antonio Wings, Shreveport Steamer and Southern California Sun.

Four of the teams (The Hawaiians, Memphis, Philadelphia and Southern Cal) kept their original names from 1974 but only two – Philadelphia and Memphis – maintained ownership from 1974. In fact, the original WFL actually folded and was replaced by “New League Inc.” which assumed the name and did business as the WFL.

Regardless, the rebuilt version of the league might’ve had the best intentions when it came to fiscal responsibility, but it had no TV contract, no team in the No. 1 media market of New York and no long term prospects.

The Winds had hoped to sign Joe Namath – believing a TV deal and renewed credibility for the circuit would follow – but Namath wisely passed and the Winds folded just five games into the season.

After Week 12 it was obvious that the end was near.

In fact, the end came before there could be a Week 13.

“Our gate receipts have been disappointing,” Hemmeter told UPI. “Our league average through last week’s games is 13,371 paid admissions. Furthermore, attendance over the past five weeks has declined 28 percent on a league-wide basis, causing severe financial drains on each franchise.”

Philadelphia drew only 3,705 fans per game and Portland’s last home contest – a 28-25 victory over San Antonio – marked its lowest turnout ever when only 3,818 people showed up at Civic Stadium. Players were getting paid, but at one percent of a very small gate, it was basically beer money.

The ownership groups at Memphis, Charlotte, Jacksonville and San Antonio voted to play out the rest of the season, but when they were outnumbered, the league officially closed up shop.

I fell in love with the Birmingham Americans in 1974, and thought the colorful WFL – with its seven point touchdowns and “action point” conversion – had the best rules this side of Canada.

And when the Ams went under and were replaced by the Vulcans, I embraced them as well – especially after my dad bought $25 worth of stock in the team (making me a kinda/sorta owner).

But while I was a wide-eyed 13-year old when the WFL started, I was 14 and world-weary when it ended. In fact, seeing the handwriting on the wall, I had distanced myself a bit from the team when it became apparent neither the league nor the franchise were built to last.

I still rooted for the Vulcans, but I knew they weren’t going to be around much longer. It was painful to get emotionally involved in something that was bound to break my heart.

It wasn’t until years later when I really started to think about the impact the WFL had on me – putting a pro football team in my hometown for the first time, and providing so many terrific football memories that still make me smile.

So forgive me for getting a bit wistful when October 22 rolls around.

I’m just missing a friend I didn’t have nearly enough time with.