Scott Adamson, Author at Adamsonmedia.com

Are the Cosmos for sale?

I don’t like to brag, but in the world of association football I’m something of a tycoon. You see, I’m part-owner of not one, not two, but three professional soccer clubs.

There’s Celtic FC, members of the Scottish Premiership and my most favored side.

**Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Threads @sladamson1960 and Adamsonmedia on Facebook.**

I am the proud owner of one ordinary share of one pence – fully paid – in Celtic PLC (subject to the articles of association of the company, of course). I even get an annual vote on who should serve as board members.

Celtic open against Kilmarnock today to start the 2024-25 season, and I’ll be dressed for the occasion as I cheer on the 54-time Scottish champions.

Manchester United?

Yep … they’re mine. I became fascinated by the Red Devils when I first read about them in a book I found in my grammar school’s library. I’m the holder of one fully paid and non-assessable share of Class A ordinary shares, which is $0.0005 value per share.

I get voting privileges and each year the Premier League club sends me a check for nine cents. It goes directly into savings because I try to be responsible with my money.

And finally, I possess one share of Class S stock in Chattanooga FC, who started in the National Premier Soccer League (NPSL), moved to the National Independent Soccer Association (NISA), and now compete in MLS Next Pro. Saturday night they played Toronto FC II to a 1-1 draw, but picked up an additional point by winning on penalties.

I have a framed certificate, yard sign and T-shirt that says “Chattanooga FC Owner,” so you know it’s legit.

While I’m honored to have a piece of these clubs, my first love – the New York Cosmos – remain in limbo. And I truly wish I had a financial stake in their future.

You remember the Cosmos … the team that won five championships and once featured the likes of Pele, Franz Beckenbauer, Giorgio Chinaglia and Carlos Alberto. They drew more than 77,000 to Giants Stadium during a North American Soccer League playoff game in 1977 (and averaged more than 42,000 spectators per home match that season).

Ah, those were the glory days.

The last competition for a Cosmos-branded team was September 28, 2020 – a 2-1 loss to the Los Angeles Force in the NISA Fall Tournament played at Keyworth Stadium in Hamtramck, Michigan. Attendance was zero since it was contested during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Not long after that defeat, the Cosmos canceled their spring season, went on hiatus, and haven’t been heard from since.

And this makes me sad, especially since I have a closet full of caps, T-shirts and jerseys that make it quite obvious I’m still a supporter.

The first version of the Cosmos folded in 1985, along with the rest of the NASL. The “retirement league” stocked with aging international stars finally fell out of favor with American soccer fans, who moved on to – well, things other than soccer.

But the Cosmos were reborn in 2010 in the modern version of the NASL. It was a second-tier league below Major League Soccer in the pyramid, but aspired to grow into a real competitor. I liked that circuit a lot and hoped it would ultimately reach First Division status and give MLS headaches.

The new NASL wasn’t the same as the old NASL, but I still embraced it – and the Cosmos. They reminded me of my younger days when I first became a fan of the Beautiful Game, and their iconic logo – colorful blades surrounding a ball –remains one of my favorite badges.

Sadly, NASL 2 died in 2017 after losing a lengthy legal battle with the United States Soccer Federation involving PLS (Professional League Standards), so I’d had the Cosmos taken from me for a second time.

But wait!

They kinda/sorta lived on in the fourth tier NPSL as a reserve team (New York Cosmos B) starting in 2015, and in 2019 they lost the “B” and became part of NISA.

And, technically, I guess they still are members of the independent circuit. But since they haven’t taken the field in nearly four years, that hiatus is starting to look more and more like a permanent vacation … a bye-atus, if you will.

And the guy who owns them, Rocco B. Commiso, has pretty much forgotten about them now that he’s owner/chairman of ACF Fiorentina of Serie A.

I certainly understand why he’d put all his energies into “La Viola” … the Italian league has a tad more juice than little ‘ol NISA. But if he isn’t going to do anything with the Cosmos, I wish he’d sell them.

And considering I have a claim in two international clubs and one domestic team, I humbly request that he sell them to me.

If you’re reading this Mr. Commiso, I currently have $147.26 in my checking account, and I can Venmo you $140 by Monday (I’m holding back the other $7.26 because I’m running low on bananas and need to make a quick run to the store).

As a billionaire, you don’t even need my money, which is what makes it such a lovely gesture on my part. And if you no longer care about the Cosmos, put them in the care of someone who does.

No, I don’t have a league to put them in, a place for them to play, or a coaching staff and players. I haven’t had time to research any of that because I didn’t even come up with this column idea until late last night. But what I do offer is a real passion for the club.

I might own some other teams, but this is the one that still owns my heart.

Anyway, I hope you’ll consider my offer. Because when I say “Cosmos Forever,” I really do mean it.

Gotcha Day

Any time Olympus Tyrrhena walked through the wide double-door of the shelter, his olfactory sense was hit with a chemical-like agent that – while often unsuccessful – was designed to mask odors. Still, for him it was a familiar and welcoming aroma, and one that accompanied a genuine feeling of excitement.

The smell meant there were cages, and cages meant there were animals in them, and those animals were always ready for adoption.

“My friend!” shouted the greeter, Tharsis Cimmeria. “So glad to see you again. We have some new arrivals I’m sure you’ll be interested in.”

“You always do, Tharsis,” Tyrrhena said. “Truthfully, I’m not even sure what I’m looking for today. Hopefully I’ll know it when I see it.”

The Noachis Shelter was the largest in what was once the West Coast of the United States. An old naval barracks that had been converted into an adoption center, it could house as many as 3,000 animals at one time. And it was almost always filled to capacity. It seemed that for every one that was taken away to its forever home, another five were corralled while running wild outside the facility. In a perfect world, all the adoptees would be carefully matched with the adopters, but in recent times officials at Noachis Shelter simply wanted to make sure business ran smoothly – and quickly.

If you had the resources to get an animal, the animal was yours with no questions asked.

“Now, the last time you were here you got Eddie, the male, right?” Cimmeria asked. “I remember him well … always banging against the cage and howling. Not a lot of our customers would take a chance on an animal like that. I hope he’s working out for you.”

Tyrrhena sighed.

“Unfortunately, I had to have him put down,” he said. “I gave him as much time as I could to adjust to his new surroundings, but he could never do it. He was extremely violent and very disruptive. I had to have him destroyed because I was afraid he was going to hurt the other animals, as well as himself. It’s a shame, but when you go through as many as I have in the last couple of years, you get used to it. Well … you never get used to it, but you learn to live with it. Anyway, that’s why I’m here today, to see if I can find one to replace the one I lost.”

With Cimmeria providing a loose follow, Tyrrhena walked down the aisles of the shelter and carefully eyed each individual cage. It was rare when one of the animals made eye contact with him, and when they did it was always fleeting. What he enjoyed most was seeing the ones who were curled up sleeping. Whether true or not, he believed those who were slumbering in the cages would be easier to tame.

Finally, Tyrrhena found what he was looking for. An animal with bushy red hair, and so new to the shelter he still had on his uniform.

“We call him Captain,” Cimmeria said. “We think he was in that group of resistance fighters we captured just last week, but we couldn’t find any identification on him. Now that we’ve all assumed humanoid form and characteristics, they don’t even know who to fight anymore. Soon we’ll have complete control of this hemisphere, so we’re going to need even more shelters.”

Two staffers quickly joined Cimmeria, who prepared to open the cage and quickly tie up Captain.

“So … are you going to keep him at your Earth dwelling or take him back to Mars?”

“By the looks of him, he’ll be more of a labor animal, so I’ll probably leave him here to work the fields,” Tyrrhena said. “Besides, Promethai would kill me if I brought another pet home.”

Spring football, 1971

Barring an unexpected development, the United Football League is set to return next year, marking four consecutive seasons of “offseason” professional gridiron action.

That’ll break the original United States Football League’s record of three competitive seasons (1983-85) which – truthfully – I thought would probably stand forever. With the World League of American Football leaving North America after two years and most other circuits going one-and-done, 11-on-11 spring/summer ball seemed like a fool’s errand for almost 40 years.

Yet, while it’s easy to look back on the late, great USFL as “the” groundbreaker when it comes to playing football during baseball season, that honor belongs to the Trans-American Football League.

Dave Dixon came up with the idea for a January through May circuit in 1965, but it was six years later before a league actually abandoned the fall. The TAFL, a rebranded version of the Texas Football League, decided to tee it up in 1971.

The news was announced in March of that year via a press release:

The greatest innovation in professional football for 1971 will have its beginning in the city of San Antonio. San Antonio, the home of the “winningest team in professional football,” will be the site of pro football’s first spring season football game. The opening day for the Trans-American Football League was first conceived in Chicago, Illinois, in 1970. The league as it was then proposed would consist of four divisions which would span the continental United States. In 1971, this idea will become a reality as four Texas cities join together to host pro football’s first spring schedule. These four teams will be known as the Southwest Division of the Trans-American League and they will make up the only operative division for the 1971 season. Because of the response by season ticket holders and advertisers alike, it is an excellent possibility that the other three divisions will be ready to operate in 1972.

The original concept was for the TAFL to play a fall schedule and be second only to the newly-merged National Football League and American Football League in quality. Aside from San Antonio – winners of four consecutive Texas Football League titles – there were to be franchises in Fort Worth, Los Angeles, Chicago and Hershey, Pennsylvania, with possible locales including Memphis, Birmingham, Tampa, and Columbus, Ohio.

A stock offering as well as a network TV deal were also in the works and by 1972, the league would feature as many as 16 teams.

In early 1971, however, plans were changing – dramatically.

Henry Hight, owner of the San Antonio Toros, said he planned to apply for a Canadian Football League franchise for 1972. Before then, however, his club would participate in a bold experiment.

“We’ve got a lot going on for us down in San Antonio,” Hight said in the January 13, 1971, edition of the North Bay Nugget. “We plan to play spring ball. We’ll go into camp March 1. With that one move, we’ll do away with all competition. Think of the stadiums we’ll have available. And the players – think of the players we’ll be able to use.

“Our season will end in June … NFL camps will open in July.”

The 1971 TAFL was a completely Texas-based circuit with only four teams, built on the hope that those clubs (the Dallas Rockets, Fort Worth Braves, Toros and Texarkana Titans) would somehow be so successful other owners from across the country would be clamoring for a spring pro football franchise.

For that to happen, the TAFL would need to be a huge box office success and garner national publicity despite being a minor league with no national TV contract.

Duncan McCauley, director of development for the TAFL, was excited about the prospects.

“I’m very enthusiastic about the possibilities and about the reception I think it will receive,” he said in an April 20, 1971 story in the San Antonio Express. “I’ve talked to hundreds of people and practically all of them are anticipating football at this time of year, and most of them have indicated they plan to attend as many games as possible.

“We’re offering the football fan his favorite sport at a time when he can enjoy getting out to see a live game without facing a conflict with his son or daughter who might be involved in a high school or college game or some of the activities that accompany them.”

Texarkana coach Durwood Merrill agreed.

“Although it’s strictly on a trial basis, it has already won the enthusiasm of fans and coaches,” Merrill told the Tyler Telegraph.

Alas, fans weren’t enthused.

At all.

Despite what was, by all accounts, quality play, fans didn’t exactly show up in droves. The largest crowd of the season came when 4,500 ticket buyers converged on North East Stadium to see San Antonio top Texarkana, 20-19, in the TAFL championship game on July 19.

Before the contest was played, team owners had already decided the spring schedule simply wasn’t working out.

“When the league went to a spring and summer schedule, it did so to get away from competition with dozens of high school, college and pro teams in the area, as well as get recognition for the teams and the league, plus allowing the better players in the league to move directly on to major league training camps in July,” San Antonio coach George Pasterchick told Austin American Statesman columnist George Breazeale a week before the title matchup. “But we knew then the key to it all was attendance – how many people would pay money to get in. And the attendance hasn’t been what we expected.”

By 1972 the TAFL was no more, with the San Antonio and Dallas franchises moving to the Southwest Professional Football League and a fall schedule. Hight did continue his CFL push, though, saying that potential owners in Phoenix, Los Angeles, Seattle and Las Vegas were ready to join San Antonio in an American Division.

Of course, it would be a couple of decades before the Canadian circuit ventured south of its border.

As for spring pro football, well, that experiment wasn’t attempted again until the birth of the USFL in 1983.