Pro football’s 1944 logjam

President Harry Truman receives a gold pass to all All-America Football Conference games during the 1949 season. Left to right are Robert Embry of the Baltimore Colts, Truman, Commodore O. O. Kessing, commissioner of the All-America Football Conference; and Walter Driskill, president and G.M. of the Colts.

The thought of any upstart challenging the National Football League seems ludicrous in 2024. Considered the most powerful professional sports league on the planet, the NFL generated more than 20 billion dollars in revenue last year, according to Statista.

Simply put, it’s peerless.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Bluesky @scottadamson1960 and Adamsonmedia on Facebook.

But that wasn’t always the case.

The circuit celebrated its Silver Anniversary in 1944. And while it had established longevity after a quarter century of competition, it was not yet considered untouchable.

The league played a 10-game regular season 80 years ago, with a lineup that featured the Boston Yanks, Brooklyn Tigers, Card-Pitt (the Chicago Cardinals and Pittsburgh Steelers merged for the season due to player shortages caused by World War II), Chicago Bears, Cleveland Rams, Detroit Lions, Green Bay Packers, New York Giants, Philadelphia Eagles and Washington Redskins.

College football was king and the NFL was still primarily a regional operation, meaning intrepid souls who wanted to expand the pro game’s footprint had a real opportunity. And in 1944, the All-America Football Conference, Trans-American Football League and United States Football League all formed, taking aim at a piece of the play-for-pay pie.

Out of the gate first was the original iteration of the USFL, which was announced on July 24, 1944, in Philadelphia.

The league hoped to play its first season in 1945 – “war conditions permitting,” according to United Press International – and would feature Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Pittsburgh in the Eastern Division and Akron, Cincinnati, Chicago, St. Louis and Honolulu in the West.

Roland Donald Payne, a Pittsburgh industrialist who founded the USFL, said he had also received applications from investors in Seattle, Portland, Buffalo, Detroit, San Francisco, Los Angeles, New Orleans and Dallas/Fort Worth.

The Honolulu entry had already been nicknamed the Bears and tapped F. J. Brickner as its head coach.

Due to travel issues, Honolulu would be based in California the first half of the season and play all its road games traveling from its West Coast base. The Bears would then return to the islands for the second half of the campaign and contest the rest of their slate at home.

Payne said that the clubs had posted anywhere from $60,000 to $250,000 in start-up costs.

Next up was the All-America Football Conference, which was introduced on September 2, 1944, in Chicago.

The  brainchild of Chicago Tribune sports editor Arch Ward, the AAFC would be a coast-to-coast league with teams owned by “men of millionaire incomes” and begin play in 1945. Flagship cities and their owners were reported to be: Chicago, (John L. Keeshin, president of trucking concern); New York, (Eleanor Gehrig, Lou Gehrig’s widow, and Ray J. Ryan, oil company president); Baltimore, (former heavyweight boxing champion Gene Tunney); Buffalo, (James Breuil and Will Bennett, oil company executives, and Sam Cordavano, construction company head); Cleveland, (Arthur McBride, taxicab magnate); Los Angeles, (actor Don Ameche and Christy Walsh, former newspaper syndicate director); and San Francisco, (Anthony J. Morabito and Allan E. Sorrell, co-owners of a lumber terminal concern, and Ernest J. Turre, construction company manager).

Ward added that prominent business leaders in Detroit, Philadelphia and Boston were also seeking franchises for those cities.

And the third challenger, the Trans-American Football League, announced its intentions on September 18, 1944, in New York.

League president Chick Meehan said Baltimore, Dallas, Houston, Los Angeles, New York and Philadelphia were charter members of the TAFL, and groups from Boston and Miami were also being considered.

Teams would travel to games almost exclusively via airplane (hence the “Trans-America” name) and the league was slated to begin play “after the war.”

For a while, it appeared that two of the three had a chance to be successful. The USFL made the biggest splash early on by convincing gridiron legend Red Grange to become commissioner. The AAFC countered by tapping “Sleepy Jim” Crowley as its commish; he was one of the “Four Horsemen of Notre Dame.”

The TAFL, meanwhile, was pushing for a merger with the NFL without ever playing a game. Meehan also hinted that if his league couldn’t find a suitable place to play in New York, it would give up the fight.

As WWII continued, starting play in 1945 wasn’t feasible for any of the newbies. Thus, they’d have another year to prepare.

The USFL and TAFL didn’t need it; they both called it quits on June 4, 1945.

Once the NFL announced that Brooklyn would make Yankee Stadium home, that convinced owners in those two fledgling organizations to fold since they were counting on use of the famed baseball grounds to host their New York area entries.

“With Yankee Stadium, I had plenty of ammunition,” Meehan told UPI. “Without it, I just had conversation.”

But the AAFC had already invested $3 million in players, coaches and franchises, and refused to give up. While it also coveted Yankee Stadium for its club, league officials said 30,000-seat Triboro Municipal Stadium would do just fine.

There were no AAFC games played in 1945, yet Ward and company continued to build a strong foundation. Ward said in December of that year the NFL had already paid more than $100,000 to keep its players from jumping to his league.

“Anyone of several of our teams has more money behind it than the entire National Football League,” he claimed.

NFL commissioner Elmer Layden (along with Crowley, one of the Four Horsemen), didn’t take the challenge seriously.

“They should first get a ball, then make a schedule, and then play a game,” he said.

In 1946 – with the United States Football League and Trans-American Football League distant memories – the All-America Football Conference proved it had balls. It also had a schedule and games.

Populating the league were the Buffalo Bisons, Brooklyn Dodgers, Chicago Rockets, Cleveland Browns, Los Angeles Dons, Miami Seahawks, New York Yankees and San Francisco 49ers.

Although the NFL tried to dismiss their rivals, it became apparent early on that it was a quality operation with stars such as quarterback Otto Graham and fullback Marion Motley of Cleveland, New York ballcarrier Frank Sinkwich and Los Angeles signal caller Angelo Bertelli.

By 1949, the AAFC was on par with the NFL – at least.

And just before its championship game between the 49ers and Browns, Cleveland, San Francisco and the Baltimore Colts, a franchise that replaced Miami in 1947, for the 1950 season, were admitted to the NFL.

The Dons merged with the Los Angeles Rams and the remaining AAFC clubs were shuttered.

While the 49ers (3-9) and Colts (1-11) struggled in their first NFL season, the Browns most certainly did not.

In September, the Browns defeated the two-time defending NFL champion Philadelphia Eagles, 35-10. NFL commissioner Bert Bell – who took over in 1946 – called the franchise from the (former) rival league, “the greatest team I ever saw.”

Cleveland won the American Conference with an 11-2 record (it beat the New York Giants, 8-3, in a conference tiebreaker game) and seized the NFL crown with a 30-28 victory over Los Angeles – which had several former Dons players on the roster.

After once looking down its nose at the AAFC, the NFL realized the addition of teams from the younger league made it better.

Of course, something like that could never happen today. But thanks to the seeds planted in 1944, remnants of the All-America Football Conference live on in the world’s premiere tackle football league.

A tourney is born

For the first time in major college football history, we’re finally getting a playoff in the 2024 season.

Wait … what?

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Bluesky @scottadamson1960 and Adamsonmedia on Facebook.

“But, Scott,” you say, even though I can’t hear you, “the Football Bowl Subdivision has had a playoff since 2014. You must be smoking your kale.”

Ah, yes – the College Football Playoff. Before this year, it involved four teams tapped by a 13-person selection committee. Call it what you like, but when you have four schools out of more than 130 vying for a championship, that’s not a playoff – that’s an invitational.

Starting this December, however, the FBS postseason will look more than an honest to goodness tournament since 12 teams will be in the hunt for a title. The field will include the five highest-ranked conference champions – which will receive automatic bids – plus the seven highest-ranked teams remaining in the CFP poll.

The top four conference champs get a first-round bye to the quarterfinals and will be seeded 1-4. Seeds 5-12 will play each other in the first round with the higher-seeded teams hosting.

So, the first round matchups will be:

  • No. 5 vs. No. 12
  • No. 6 vs. No. 11
  • No. 7 vs. No. 10
  • No. 8 vs. No. 9

“New Year’s Six” bowl games will come into play in the quarterfinal round, while the semifinals will be played in bowls on a rotating basis and the national championship site will be bid on and continue to be called the College Football Playoff National Championship.

It’s not as comprehensive or good as the 24-team Football Championship Subdivision playoff, but it’s good enough for now and has room to expand. I’m guessing in most seasons, the only teams with a  legitimate chance of wearing the crown will be among the 12 who are hand-picked to fight for it.

College football playoffs, of course, have been cussed and discussed for as long as I can remember, although the idea used to be little more than a pipe dream. Back in the mid-1960s the NCAA set up a committee to study the feasibility of a playoff, but that initial push died on the vine.

Then 50 years ago, legendary Notre Dame coach Ara Parseghian became a vocal supporter.

On December 31, 1973, his No. 3-ranked Fighting Irish upset No. 1 Alabama, 24-23, in the Sugar Bowl. The Crimson Tide had already claimed the United Press International title (UPI named its champion before the bowl games) but Notre Dame got the nod from the Associated Press after finishing 11-0.

Penn State was 12-0 that year, while Ohio State and Oklahoma closed their campaigns with 10-0-1 worksheets.

On. Jan. 1, 1974 – before AP released its final poll – Parseghian made his case.

“I’ll be disappointed if we’re not No. 1 … I think we deserve it,” Parseghian told AP. “Somebody has to take the bull by the horns. Our game with Alabama is the greatest proof that some sort of official playoff is needed.”

Parseghian suggested a 16-team tourney, based on either a team’s record or by NCAA selection.

“We have enough bowls now – in fact, more than enough – to handle the procedure,” he explained. “The final game could be rotated among the four major bowls, Rose, Sugar, Orange and Cotton.”

Back in the day – before we had made-for-ESPN games like the Extreme Disco Chicken Tenders Bowl and Buttcrack Plumbing Classic – postseason matchups really were special. In 1974, for example, there were only 11 bowl games available for “big time” schools. This year, there will be 41 – plus the national championship and four first round playoff games played at campus sites.

And in the 70s, some coaches didn’t want to mess with the holiday tradition of college football. One of them was Southern Cal boss John McKay, who was also head of the American Football Coaches Association in 1974.

“I think the NCAA would like to have it, but can they work it out,” McKay wondered when asked by an AP reporter. “No one has proved one way or the other whether it would eliminate the bowls. My feeling is we shouldn’t eliminate the bowls because they’ve been so good to college football.

“The biggest problem with a playoff is the number of extra games it would require. Most bowl games are played during non-examination periods.”

McKay added that he didn’t want the NCAA to follow the NFL model.

“We’d be getting tied up with what the pros do,” he said. “Their Super Bowl is the dullest game of the year. I won’t even watch it.”

And there were those who suggested the controversy surrounding “mythical national champions” was good for the game.

Maryland coach Jerry Claiborne thought so, even after Parseghian’s suggestion.

“Right now, you’ve got a champion in Notre Dame and teams like Ohio State and Penn State which think they should be No. 1,” Claiborne said. “Everyone keeps writing and talking about it.”

The world – and the college football world – has changed dramatically over the past 50 years. Major conference FBS football is now basically NFL Lite, with players able to earn compensation for their labor over the table instead of under it. And it probably won’t be long before the 50 or 60 elite programs break away and form their own version of a College Super League.

But after the Bowl Coalition, Bowl Alliance, Bowl Championship Series and a four-team CFP, what Parseghian hoped for in 1974 has now more or less come to pass.

It’s gonna be fun to see how it all shakes out.

So long, Oakland A’s

For a team I never really cheered for and haven’t followed in, oh, about 40 years, I’m gonna miss the Oakland A’s.

I wasn’t around for their playing days in Philadelphia (1901-1954) and was born six years after they began their 13-season run in Kansas City (1955-1967). For much of my lifetime they’ve been in California and in my mind, that’s where they’re supposed to be. Their last stand in their longtime home came on Thursday with a 3-2 victory against the Texas Rangers in front of 46,889 fans at the Oakland Coliseum.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Bluesky @scottadamson1960, Threads @sladamson1960 and Adamsonmedia on Facebook.

And once the final out is made in their road game against the Seattle Mariners today, the A’s era repping the East Bay will officially be done; it ends with a losing record and fourth place finish in the American League West.

They’ll hole up temporarily in Sacramento, starting with the 2025 season, before eventually moving to their new home in Las Vegas. That still seems so weird to me … a gambling hub in the desert is now a major league city that has claimed Oakland’s football and baseball teams.

Anyway, even though I’ve never been to Oakland, it still feels like I lost something with their slow walk to Sin City.

For one thing, I was one of those kids who goobed out over gimmicks, and the “Swingin’ A’s” caught my attention in the 1970s because of their unis. While the colors of Major League Baseball were primarily white and gray, the A’s were green and bright gold – and featured multiple combinations. I might’ve been young, but I was all about sartorial elegance.

And in 1973, A’s owner Charlie Finley introduced orange baseballs, which were used in a couple of spring training games.

The players didn’t seem to care for them, but I thought the concept was fantastic.

You deck out a team in green and gold and have them hitting orange baseballs and, well … be still my nerdy heart.

But my close (and only) encounter with the Oakland A’s came on May 15, 1975, when they were the first MLB team I was supposed to see play live.

They were at Birmingham’s Rickwood Field to take on their Southern League farm club, the Birmingham A’s, and it was to be the baseball event of the season for everyone in the Magic City.

A crowd upwards of 12,000 was predicted and Pop (my dad) had not only bought tickets early, but driven us to the park three hours before gametime to avoid any potential traffic issues.

Oakland won back-to-back-to-back World Series in 1972-73-74 and were the reigning giants of the professional game. While I gravitated more to the New York Yankees and Chicago Cubs (when I wasn’t obsessing over football), Pop explained that since most of Oakland’s players had once played in Birmingham, it made sense to follow the Alvin Dark-managed A’s even if I didn’t necessarily root for them.

I had never seen a pro baseball game of any kind, and I was about to see one of the best clubs in the history of the National Pastime.

Oakland’s announced starting lineup featured Vida Blue on the mound and Gene Tenace behind the plate.

The infield consisted of Joe Rudi (first base), Phil Garner (second), Bert Campaneris (shortstop) and Sal Bando (third).

Claudell Washington (left), Bill North (center) and Reggie Jackson (right) stood in the outfield, and Billy Williams was designated hitter.

Pretty impressive group, huh? Rollie Fingers was on the pitching staff, meaning I was in the presence of three future Hall of Famers (Fingers joins Jackson and Williams in Cooperstown).

I even got Garner’s autograph because kids were allowed on the field during warmups (and the crowd around him was less than that surrounding the bigger stars).

It was the perfect evening – right up until Rickwood Field became Rickwood Lake.

Heavy rains flooded the field before the scheduled 7:30 p.m. start and lightning knocked out a pair of light towers, sending fans scurrying for cover – and the big league A’s scurrying to the airport where they were headed to New York to take on the Yankees.

What was to be my first live baseball game was, unfortunately, a washout.

Still, Oakland had made its mark. The A’s jumpstarted my interest in Major League Baseball, and I watched them on TV every chance I got in 1975.
When they were swept three games to none by the Boston Red Sox in the ALCS, I was truly disappointed. I already despised the Sox, but felt I also had a connection with the A’s – waterlogged as it was.

Alas, my disappointment faded, as did my interest.

The Birmingham A’s weren’t much of a draw, and the franchise moved to Chattanooga in 1976 (and became the Chattanooga Lookouts).

With no more team in my town – and no more ties to Oakland – I became little more than a casual observer. I had moved on to other pursuits long before they officially changed their name to “Athletics,” launched the Rickey Henderson legend, signed Mark McGwire, won the 1989 World Series, and went through the “Moneyball” era.

And if I’m being honest (and I am), I don’t even know what happened to Garner’s autograph. After 49 years, I’m fairly sure it’s lost forever.

Today, though, I’ll pour one out for the green and gold wearing, orange baseball bashing, Swingin’ A’s of my youth.

I’m so glad I almost got to see them play.