Dundon pulls plug on AAF

Birmingham Iron coach Tim Lewis gets the Gatorade treatment after his team’s season-opening victory over the Memphis Express at Legion Field in February. (Photo by Kevin C. Cox/AAF/Getty Images)

Dallas billionaire Tom Dundon, who came into the Alliance of American Football as a sugar daddy, was instead packing poison.

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

And now, the Alliance of American Football is as good as dead.

Technically the AAF “suspended operations” today and didn’t officially fold, but there’s a sense of finality to it.

My heart breaks for all the folks who lost their jobs, and for a league that I thought had at least a puncher’s chance to hang around for a few years.

In the lead up to the Alliance’s launch, I took the standard “wait-and-see” attitude. As I’ve said countless times before I want any honest business to succeed, and as someone who has an affinity for underdogs and upstarts, I hoped for the best.

And for a while, that’s what I thought I was getting from the first major spring football venture since the 2001 XFL.

Co-founders Bill Polian (40 years of pro football experience) and Charlie Ebersol had a plan for sustainability that ultimately included building a relationship with the NFL: it was just going to take patience.

Dundon (zero years of pro football experience) had no patience, and wanted to rush the big league into a partnership it wasn’t yet ready for.

He became the AAF chairman and controlling owner, and all decisions going forward were his to make – unilaterally.

“I am extremely disappointed to learn Tom Dundon has decided to suspend all football operations of the Alliance of American Football,” Polian said in a statement released earlier today. “When Mr. Dundon took over, it was the belief of my co-founder, Charlie Ebersol, and myself that we would finish the season, pay our creditors, and make the necessary adjustments to move forward in a manner that made economic sense for all. The momentum generated by our players, coaches and football staff had us well positioned for future success.

“Regrettably, we will not have that opportunity.”

Certainly, there were some dull games – any video of last week’s 8-3 debacle between Salt Lake and San Diego should be destroyed and never spoken of again – but that’s to be expected for a first-year league.

Sometimes growing pains can be painful for viewers, too.

But in terms of presentation and mission, the Alliance looked like it was hitting all the right notes.

Chris Thompson (14) and the Orlando Apollos finished with the best record in the Alliance. (Photo by Harry Aaron/AAF/Getty Images)

I was thrilled that my hometown, Birmingham, was back in the pro football biz and hopeful that maybe – just maybe – the AAF would be more than a flash in the pan.

Enter Dundon, whose $250 million investment was supposed to solidify the league and give it some wiggle room as it went through the various challenges that come with starting a business from scratch.

However, things went south almost from the moment Dundon became chairman.

Once he went public with his threat to fold the league if a formal working agreement couldn’t be reached with the NFL, my enthusiasm for it hit low ebb.

Instead of looking forward to Birmingham playing its first pro football playoff game since its Canadian Football League season of 1995, I was wondering if there’d even be a playoff.

Was last week’s game against Atlanta at Legion Field the team’s last?

Why yes, it almost certainly was.

The Birmingham Iron finished 5-3 and runners-up to the Orlando Apollos in the Eastern Conference.

Orlando finished with the league’s best record at 7-1 so if you want to crown them champions, go ahead and do that.

Not sure it’s much of a consolation, though.

Of course the ominous news brought the trolls out in full force. Instead of just ignoring the Alliance (which is what I do when things don’t interest me) they couldn’t wait to dance on its grave and make jokes.

But there’s nothing funny to players and coaches that – for the moment – have no games to coach or play.

And it’s downright sad for all the folks who took jobs in the ticket office, public relations department, etc.

These are men and women trying to make a living and now suddenly they’re out of work.

So a league is dead, people are unemployed, and vendors are waiting for money that hasn’t been paid.

Who knew Dundon’s $250 million would be so costly?

AAF chairman’s threat diverts focus from football

Arizona Hotshots QB John Wolford throws against the San Diego Fleet during their Alliance of American Football game at Sun Devil Stadium last week. Comments by AAF chairman Tom Dundon this week raised the possibility that the league could fold. (Photo by Norm Hall/AAF/Getty Images)

The next time I have $250 million and decide to invest in a spring football league, remind me to avoid negotiating in public.

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

It’s really bad for business.

Tom Dundon, the chairman and controlling owner of the Alliance of American Football, threatened to shudder the first-year league if it can’t develop an official working relationship with the NFL.

The AAF wants the NFL Players Association to OK use of “down roster” players in the spring circuit, but apparently the big leaguers have some reservations about the idea.

“If the players union is not going to give us young players, we can’t be a development league,” Dundon told USA Today in a story published on Wednesday. “We are looking at our options, one of which is discontinuing the league.”

There’s nothing unusual about scorched-earth bargaining (I guess … I’ve never done it), but bargaining in the media is a bit … risky.

So now instead of the major league and the upstart league hammering out things in private, Dundon has made a very public mess of things.

He didn’t just shoot himself in the foot, he took target practice on both legs of the AAF and now anyone talking about the league is talking about everything but football.

This is not helpful.

Alliance co-founders Bill Polian and Charlie Ebersol have made it clear they want the eight-team league to morph into something akin to an NFL farm system, but they also realize these things don’t happen overnight.

Polian said as much during a teleconference earlier this month.

“We have had no specific talks with the NFL on that subject, but lots of NFL people have bandied about that thought with us,” said Polian, who served as general manager for three NFL teams and has been involved in professional football for more than 40 years. “We all talk about it, but there have been no formal discussions about it at this point. I think there’s enough discussion about it that those discussions are going to continue. Whether or not it bears fruit remains to be seen.

“There are a lot of procedural hurdles that have to be crossed before you can make that happen, but the talk is ramping up, I’ll say that.”

From everything I could tell, Polian and Ebersol were doing things the right way. As a fan of the league, I appreciated the fact that they were willing to walk before trying to run.

Dundon, though – owner of the NHL Carolina Hurricanes and majority owner of TopGolf – wanted to go into a full sprint and get a deal struck yesterday.

It didn’t happen, so he threatened to pull the plug and make those of us who believe in the league believe in it a little less.

As of this writing, the Alliance is still alive and all games are a go for this weekend. Orlando plays at Memphis and San Diego travels to Salt Lake today, while on Sunday it’s Atlanta at Birmingham and Arizona going to San Antonio.

It’s a bit worrisome (at least to me) that the league hasn’t commented or attempted to clarify Dundon’s comments via Twitter or on its website, but perhaps nothing has been cleared up yet.

Many coaches in the league have shrugged off the talk as just that, and Birmingham City Councilor William Parker told WBRC TV he thinks the Birmingham Iron and the rest of the Alliance have plenty of life left.

“The Alliance of American Football needs the NFL,” he said. “The NFL needs the Alliance of American Football. It’s posturing. I look forward to the fact that all parties will be sitting down.”

Ah, but the NFL doesn’t need the Alliance at all while ultimately – if it wants to last – the Alliance might very well need the lifeline the NFL can provide.

Yet while Polian and Ebersol are willing to build a relationship over time, Dundon wants to force one right now. And for a guy whose league hasn’t even completed its first season to give the NFL an ultimatum, well, it’s akin to a minnow threatening a shark.

Personally, I’d love to see the AAF and NFL form an official partnership.

But even if they don’t, I still think there’s a place for an informal developmental league. I realize the AAF is not yet a polished product but I’ve enjoyed it, and it’s given a lot of pretty good football players the chance to keep making money playing the game they love.

And some of the guys you see in this league will get another shot at the NFL in the fall; a few will even turn that opportunity into a roster spot.

Let’s hope cooler heads prevail and Dundon steps back and allows the Alliance’s football people to make all the football decisions.

He might own most of the league, but there won’t be a league to own if he can’t learn to work and play well with others.

And to negotiate in private.

Remembering the NASL

The Fan Cave at my house doubles as a guest room, and considering it’s basically wall-to-wall memorabilia, it serves as quite the conversation starter.

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

But memorabilia conjures memories, memories are reminders of the past, and one friend who has occupied the Fan Cave calls it the “Death Room.”

She’s not wrong.

World Football League, United States Football League, World Hockey Association – every wall is a tribute to leagues and teams that no longer exist.

But leading into the museum/mausoleum is a much smaller room that is devoted entirely to soccer – and no league is more prominent than the original North American Soccer League.

There are a pair of NASL game balls, including one autographed by members of the Philadelphia Fury (Mick Jagger, Peter Frampton, Rick Wakeman and Paul Simon were investors). There are programs galore, ticket stubs, even a press pass for the 1968 Atlanta Chiefs.

Shoot, I have a Team America media guide – the Team America that existed before Trey Parker, Matt Stone and Pam Brady turned them into World Police marionettes.

Some of my artifacts were obtained via eBay, a few came from yard sales, and one in particular is an actual purchase that has survived for 43 years now.

It’s the 1976 edition of “The Complete Handbook of Soccer,” edited by the late, great Zander Hollander. It includes more than the NASL, of course, but what was once the biggest soccer deal in North America is given the most ink.

It’s currently displayed in a shadowbox, but now and then I’ll take it out and thumb through it.

Today will be one of those days because it’s the anniversary of the death of the original NASL.

I can’t remember if I heard about it on ESPN or saw a blip in the local paper – and living in Birmingham, Alabama, it would’ve been no more than a blip – but the news that came down on March 28, 1985, was no surprise.

What once was a 24-team league that showcased the “rock star” New York Cosmos had only two teams left when it went teats up.

Thus, the sport that had taken the United States (and parts of Canada) by storm was nothing more than a drizzle by the time the league shuddered.

They were fun times while they lasted, though.

Seeing the World Cup on an episode of “Wide World of Sports” in 1970 made me curious about association football, but the NASL turned that curiosity into a passion.

By the time Pele suited up for the Cosmos in 1975 I was already a huge fan of the Beautiful Game, although I was still working through finding “my” NASL club.

I already liked New York because of Werner Roth and Shep Messing, but Kyle Rote was a homegrown superstar, and that made the Dallas Tornado attractive.

Elton John was part owner of the Los Angeles Aztecs, so the team in SoCal was a cool option (especially after Sir Elton convinced George Best to sign), and the Tampa Bay Rowdies also had a certain charm, mainly because their marketing team had us all believing that “soccer is a kick in the grass.”

Ultimately, it was the arrival of Giorgio Chinaglia in 1976 that convinced me to go all-in with the Cosmos, and a super supporter was born.

I soaked up all the NASL news I could find, and when the league was shown on ABC for a three-year run starting in 1979 I was in front of the TV for every match – didn’t matter who was playing.

As the decade rolled over to the 1980s, however, the bloom was already off the rose.

While the Cosmos once packed the Meadowlands, their attendance began to decline rapidly – and interest in America’s premiere soccer organization was going downhill fast, as well.

By 1984 the NASL was down to nine teams and the Cosmos’ final home match that year drew less than 8,000 fans.

A league that had turned soccer into the “sport of the future” in North America was becoming a thing of the past, and when only the Minnesota Strikers and Toronto Blizzard were willing to be part of the circuit in 1985, the plug was pulled.

I was heartbroken.

Sure, it was mostly a retirement league for international stars looking to cash in on their fame one last time, and it wasn’t built to develop American players.

Yet, I didn’t care.

In the days before the Internet, social media and thousands of television channels, it was a way to actually see players I had once only read about.

It inspired me to forget my dreams of playing American football and embrace my 5-8 frame, which was the exact height of Pele’ and just an inch shorter than Best.

Playing high school soccer was one of my favorite experiences (I wore No. 10, by the way), and I probably wouldn’t have been inspired to work at it so hard if not for the NASL.

Naturally, my fandom has evolved in the 35 years since the league’s demise.

Most of my interest in American soccer is at the grassroots level; I gave a loose follow to Major League Soccer for many years, but now I can take it or leave it. My hope is that the National Premier Soccer League’s new professional venture will grow into something I can truly get behind.

As for international football, it’s so readily available I can watch top-tier competition from around the globe practically whenever I want. (Celtic FC, Manchester United and Borussia Dortmund – in that order – are the clubs I support).

But I’ll never forget the “good old days,” and being a North American Soccer League enthusiast were some of the best days of my sporting life.