Scott Adamson, Author at Adamsonmedia.com

Basketball’s million dollar challenge

Fifty years ago today, the Golden State Warriors completed a four-game sweep of the Washington Bullets to claim the NBA championship – their first since moving to Northern California (from Philadelphia).

The Warriors finished 48-34 in the regular season before beating the Seattle SuperSonics (four games to two), Chicago Bulls (four games to three) and Washington.

**Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Bluesky @scottadamson1960.bsky.social**

But while the champagne was still dripping from their uniforms, another professional basketball team challenged the NBA kings to a world championship showdown.

The Kentucky Colonels, champions of the American Basketball Association, wanted a series to determine the sport’s true champion. The Louisville-based club logged a 58-36 mark in the ABA regular season before topping the New York Nets, 108-99, to win the Eastern Division tiebreaker game.

The Colonels then bulldozed the Memphis Sounds in the first round of the playoffs, Spirits of St. Louis in the Eastern Conference Finals and Indiana Pacers in the ABA Finals.

They won all three series four games to one.

On the day Golden State raised its trophy, ABA Commissioner Dave DeBusschere sent a telegram to Warriors president Franklin Mieuli, NBA commissioner Walter Kennedy and commissioner-elect Larry O’Brien.

“The television networks would like to put on a world championship series between the two leagues,” read the cable. “A three to five-game series would provide an additional $1 million in revenue for the teams, the leagues and the players. Baseball has its World Series and football has its Super Bowl between the leagues. Professional basketball should have some method to determine the true world champions. We stand ready to prove who has the best team in professional basketball.”

Colonels owners John Y. Brown and his wife, Ellie Brown, had no immediate comment, but Kentucky assistant manager David Vance was all for the NBA vs. ABA challenge.

“We could play the series if they would play it,” he told Associated Press. “There’s no way they can claim to be world champions without beating all of the known world.”

The ABA was hardly punching above its weight when it made the offer. It had completed its eighth season and was already playing – and beating – NBA in exhibition games and talking about a champion vs. champion battle.

In fact, it held a 31-17 edge over the senior circuit in preseason action and was 16-7 in exhibitions played in advance of the 1974-75 campaign.

The Colonels finished 3-2 in their interleague exhibition slate, including wins over the Bullets and Bulls. And as for Kentucky’s credentials, they were coached by Hubie Brown and featured Artis Gilmore, Dan Issel and Louie Dampier – all four future Hall of Famers.

There had been merger talks for several years, so a roundball world series made perfect sense.

Well, it made perfect sense for the ABA.

The NBA had nothing to gain by such a matchup, and a day after DeBusschere sent the telegram Kennedy shot down the idea.

“The NBA, as usual with these annual challenges, rejects the 1975 proposal – period,” he said.

Thus, we’ll never know if the Colonels could’ve topped the Warriors. And sadly, we never got to find out how that franchise would’ve fared in the NBA.

After struggling with attendance during their early years (there was talk of moving the franchise to Cincinnati), the Colonels starting doing big box office business in the 1970s.

Average crowds for the 1970-71 season were 7,375, followed by 8,811 (1971-72), 7,113 (1972-73), 8,201 (1973-74), 8,727 (1974-75) and 6,935 (1975-76). By any standard of measure, they were one of the ABA’s strongest franchises.

There was a merger ahead of the 1976-77 season (it was completed on June 17, 1976), but it didn’t include Kentucky. That seemed odd, considering how crazy for basketball the Bluegrass State is. The NBA accepted the Nets, Pacers, Denver Nuggets and San Antonio Spurs, but the Spirits and Colonels were left out.

The omission of Kentucky is worth a whole ‘nother story (and maybe I’ll get to that another time). Officially, John Brown declined to pay the $4.5 million entry fee to the NBA, which was treating the arrival of former ABA teams as expansion. Ultimately, Brown agreed to fold the franchise in exchange for $3 million, and its players were placed in a dispersal draft.

Anyway, I like to think the Colonels would’ve beaten the Warriors in the million dollar matchup.

As a guy who grew to love the game because of the ABA, how could I think otherwise?

U.S. soccer’s good old days

If you’re looking for the greatest era of American professional soccer, it’s tempting to simply look around. I mean, in terms of quantity and stability, 2025 makes a pretty good case.

The domestic professional soccer landscape includes 30 Major League Soccer franchises, 24 United Soccer League Championship clubs, 14 National Women’s Soccer League teams, 29 MLS Next Pro sides and 14 USL League One squads. MLS boasts 22 soccer-specific stadiums with two more on the way.

Throw in the fact that USL is planning to create a First Division circuit to compete with MLS – and introduce promotion/relegation – and it’s a heady time to be an association football supporter in the United States.

However, American soccer was also a pretty big deal 100 years ago. And on May 18, 1925, it reached an early milestone.

On that day the American Soccer League, which had been formed in 1921, became a member of the United States Football Association (now the United States Soccer Association). Although the ASL sought only associate membership, delegates decided to extend full privileges.

Placing the league under the USFA umbrella meant the league and governing body would finally be partners. They had been at odds in the past, mainly over participation in the annual National Challenge Cup (now the Lamar Hunt U.S. Open Cup). That event meant clubs had to break from their regular season schedule and travel long distances to compete in Cup competitions.

“Calm came out of chaos at the opening meeting of the twelfth annual session of the United Football Association, governing body of soccer in this country, at the Hotel Astor yesterday,” hailed the Passaic Daily News in a May 19, 1925, article. “For more than a year there has been a civil war between the American Soccer League, one of the most powerful, richest and largest organizations of its kind in the country, and the United States Football Association, controlling body of the sport. Yesterday all the differences were ironed out and the American Soccer League, headed by President Fred Smith, was welcomed into the United States Football Association as a full member. The sudden and undramatic ending to the strife between the two organizations was hailed as the greatest step that ever has been taken toward putting the game on a firm foundation in the United States”

In 1925, the ASL was made up of Bethlehem Steel, Boston Soccer Club, Brooklyn Wanderers, Fall River (Massachusetts) Football Club Marksmen, Fleisher Yarn (Philadelphia), Indiana Flooring (New York City), J&P Coats (Pawtucket, Rhode Island), Newark Skeeters, New Bedford Whalers, New York Giants, Philadelphia Field Club, Providence Football Club and Shawsheen Indians (Andover, Massachusetts).

The league paid its players well, and many European stars crossed the pond to suit up in the ASL. The quality of play was excellent, and some clubs even outdrew NFL teams.

In fact, USFA executive secretary Thomas Cahill thought association football had a chance to become the most popular sport in America.

“I hope within 25 years that soccer football will have almost as great strides as has baseball,” Cahill told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch in the summer of 1925. “For I am sure that fundamentally it is even a more interesting game to play and much more exciting to watch.”

Yet, while international players helped elevate the ASL, Cahill felt it was time to “Americanize” the game.

“I think the time has come when American-born officials should control the national and all subsidiary organizations in this country,” he said. “The teams should be made up of as large a percent of American-born material as is possible, and the propaganda of soccer should be undertaken with a view to more thorough Americanizing some of its phases.

“The country owes a great deal to the Old Country pioneers who brought the came across and kept it alive in its early days. We need their good players, and their presence in a minor proportion on all clubs is highly desirable.”

Fall River went on to win the ASL championship with a 27-12-5 record, and Scottish born, American raised forward Archie Stark of Bethlehem Steel led the league in scoring with an astonishing 67 goals – 34 more than second-leading scorer Andy Stevens.

Alas, the shine of elite American soccer soon faded.

The ASL and USFA never got on the same page, especially when it came to the National Challenge Cup. By 1928 ASL officials opted to boycott the Cup, but when three teams (Bethlehem, Newark and New York Giants) opted in and the ASL suspended them, things began to fall apart.

First FIFA ( which was already angry at the ASL for poaching top European players) and USFA declared the circuit an “outlaw league,” and later the Eastern Professional Soccer League was formed by the USFA to dilute the ASL.

By 1933 the original ASL was out of business, and soccer in the United States had become an afterthought.

A century later, U.S. Soccer and MLS have a cozy relationship (perhaps a bit too cozy for those of us who want the USL to challenge MLS). And the U.S. Open Cup? Sixteen Major League Soccer teams gain entry, entering in the Round of 32.

Cahill’s dream of “soccer football” becoming the new national pastime didn’t happen. But 100 years after the ASL and USFA joined forces, the game has made an indelible mark on the domestic sports landscape.

The time capsule

The eighth graders gathered around the flagpole at Alan Shepard Elementary School were in a festive mood. Not only was the 1975 academic year down to its last day – meaning it was all play and no work for students and teachers alike – but each of them had a chance to leave a lasting mark.

Jenny Franks, who taught history, had decided to let the Class of ’75 live on in the form of a time capsule.

Just outside the concrete base of the flagpole was a hole dug by some members of the football team, and Franks and her fellow teachers had gathered up sturdy metal containers to place items in. Each student was asked to bring something that represented themselves and their interests, and it would be put in a box and buried. A plaque would mark the spot.

Fifty years later – on May 14, 2025 – the hope was that the school would still be in operation and the time capsule uncovered.

“OK, kids, gather round,” Franks said, motioning the future high schoolers to come forward. “What we’re doing today is giving up a small part of our past so the people in the future will know a little bit about our lives here in 1975. I know 50 years seems really far off, and it is a half a century from now. But guess what? I hope all of you will be able to come back and take part in the unveiling. By then a lot of you will be close to retiring, and you can bring your kids and grandkids here to see what you contributed to our time capsule project.”

The students carefully eyed the various containers. Danny Childs, who was practically standing in the hole, raised his hand.

“Miss Franks, may I go first?”

“Sure Danny, what’ve you got for us?”

Danny produced an eight-track tape of Bob Dylan’s “Blood on the Tracks.”

“Normally I would keep this, but it drags,” Danny said. “And since I’ve already got the album, I decided to put this in the time capsule. I doubt anyone will even know who he is 50 years from now.”

Phil Priester was next, offering up a white plastic cup sporting a purple and gold Minnesota Vikings logo.

“My uncle brought me a bunch of these because he went to the Super Bowl earlier this year in New Orleans,” he said. “The Vikings lost to Pittsburgh, but they’ll have a lot of Super Bowl wins by 2025.”

The types of artifacts varied greatly from child to child, from the novel “Tuck Everlasting” to comic books, as well as oddities like pool balls. There was even a pewter belt buckle in the shape of the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile gifted to posterity.

However, it was the donations of best friends (and science whizzes) Charlotte Spazio and Astrid Weltraum that intrigued Franks the most. The two had been inseparable ever since Astrid transferred to the school back in September, 1974.

Charlotte was parting with the February, 1975, edition of “Popular Science” magazine, while Astrid handed over a manilla folder – taped closed – with the words “For Charlotte. Do not open until May 14, 2025” written on the front.

“Why this particular edition of the magazine, Charlotte?” Franks asked.

“There’s an article about the HTGR … the High-Temperature Gas-Cooled Reactor,” she replied. “They say it’s a safer alternative to nuclear power as it currently exists. As you know, I want to be a scientist, and I hope to be able to look back 50 years from now and see how far we’ve come … what advancements we’ve made.”

Franks nodded and smiled, and then turned her attention to Astrid.

“OK, Astrid, I’ve got to ask, what’s in the envelope? I mean, this is a pretty specific item to be putting into a time capsule.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Miss Franks,” Astrid said, waving to Charlotte as her friend wandered away to talk to some other students.

“Try me.”

“Are you sure? Because after I tell you, you’re never going to think of me the same way again. Well, not for another half century, anyway.”

Franks couldn’t imagine what the 13-year-old was about to reveal, but now she had to know.

“I promise,” Franks said. “No matter what you tell me, I’ll believe you.”

Astrid pursed her lips and thought for a couple of seconds.

“Well, we’re about to make the jump anyway, so here goes. My family and I are interdimensional beings, which allows us to travel through space and time in ways humans can’t grasp. But part of our work is to find ways to help you help yourselves whenever possible. Charlotte is a genius. And 50 years from now, she’s going to be one of the most well-known scientists on the planet. When she opens my envelope, she’ll see instructions on how to construct a time machine – an actual, working time machine. No one else could understand those instructions, but she will, and she’ll immediately get busy making it operational. Of course, she’ll change the course of your history in the process.”

Franks stood in stunned silence. She had no idea how to respond to Astrid, who seemed completely sincere.

“Don’t worry,” Astrid said. “You’ll live to see it. And like millions of other people across the world, you’ll be glad you did. Believe me when I tell you you’ll want to get out of 2025 as fast as you possibly can.”