Category: History and More

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.

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.

Fifty years ago, the NFL was ready for a makeover.

Despite a work stoppage that disrupted the preseason, the league entered the 1974 campaign hoping to fend off a challenge from the new World Football League by adding some excitement to the established professional game.

With fans complaining about too much defense and not enough explosive plays, league officials decided to open things up with some major rule changes.

The WFL had already thrown down the offensive gauntlet with radical innovations such as touchdowns being worth seven points, an “action point” to replace the PAT, one back allowed in motion toward the line of scrimmage, the elimination of fair catches on punts, kickoffs from the 30-yard line, and an overtime period divided into two, seven and a half minute segments.

The NFL wasn’t willing to go quite as far as the upstarts, but did make some significant tweaks:

• Kickoffs from the 35-yard line
• Goal posts situated at the back of the end zone
• Prohibiting the offensive team from moving downfield until the ball was kicked on punts
• The addition of a sudden death overtime period for regular season games. The first team to score in O.T. would win, and if the score was still tied after 15 minutes the game would end in a tie.

All 26 NFL teams got a taste of the new rules during the exhibition slate, and during one weekend the overtime procedure was used in three different games. But in the second week of the 1974 regular season, fans finally experienced an official bonus round of football, courtesy of the Pittsburgh Steelers and Denver Broncos.

In 1973 the league standings were littered with ties, with Cleveland, Kansas City, Denver, and Green Bay each having two draws on their worksheet and six other teams involved in stalemates. In fact, there had been 256 ties since the NFL was formed in 1920.

During contract negotiations in the summer of 1974 (which led to a brief strike) the NFL Players Association demanded that the overtime rule be scrapped.

“We reject this demand on the basis that it subjects the players to undue risk of injury and because the rule constitutes a unilateral change in working conditions,” wrote NFLPA executive director Ed Garvey.

However, once play began, the new rule was in place.

“I think it’s important for a team to control its own destiny,” Kansas City Chiefs coach Hank Stram said to United Press International. “As a result, I think it’s good we will have an opportunity to win a football game by the sudden-death rule.”

With an extra quarter to settle the issue, the chances of a game ending without a winner decreased dramatically. And after 60 minutes at Denver’s Mile High Stadium, the Broncos and Steelers had an even split of 70 points.

At 35-35, offense had already won the day, so it stood to reason the NFL’s new rule would result in its intended consequence.

Unfortunately, while there were plenty of points scattered across the first 60 minutes, there were none in the extra 15.

Jim Turner had a chance to win it for Denver late in overtime, but his 41-yard field goal attempt sailed wide right. And when the horn sounded after 75 minutes of football time (and three hours, forty-nine minutes of real time) the issue still hadn’t been settled.

“I don’t think either team deserved to lose, and neither team did,” Denver coach John Ralston said in a Greely Daily Tribune story. “We had our shot and they had theirs. I think it is very fitting to end in a tie.”

Even so, Ralston hinted that another rule change might’ve been better.

“If we had (the 2-point conversion) rule, that would’ve decided it, likely without overtime,” Ralston said. “But 15 minutes of extra playing is enough.”

Pittsburgh boss Chuck Noll was relieved his team didn’t lose, but would’ve preferred to have earned the tie the old-fashioned way.

“I don’t like the idea of overtime,” Noll told the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. “I have a tired football team that has to get ready to play next week. If we’d have one of these every week, it’d kill our team.”

Obviously, the Steelers didn’t have to play five quarters every week, although overtimes have been quite common over the last half century. The only other O.T. contest in 1974 was between the New York Jets and New York Giants, with the Jets winning, 26-20, after scoring a touchdown at the 6:53 mark of the fifth quarter.

There have been 29 regular season ties since 1974, with the last coming on December 4, 2022, when the New York Giants and Washington Commanders finished at 20-20. Starting with the 2017 season, O.T. periods were shortened to 10 minutes.

College football has already figured out to way to make sure every game ends with a winner, and perhaps the NFL will, too – someday. Until then, there’s always a chance both teams will get a share of the spoils.

Fifty years ago today, the National Football League wrapped up its exhibition slate in preparation for a September 15 start to the 1974 season.

On the plus side, it had survived a strike that lasted from July 1 to August 10, losing only the College All-Star Game to the work stoppage. However, the labor dispute opened the door for the fledgling World Football League, which began its inaugural season on July 10.

And while the WFL was starting to look shaky by September, it had already shaken up the senior circuit by signing Larry Csonka, Paul Warfield and Jim Kiick to 1975 contracts.

That trio helped the Miami Dolphins log a perfect season in 1972, and win a second consecutive Super Bowl in 1973. But they’d be lame ducks as Miami tried for a three-peat, lured away to the Memphis Southmen for 1975.

Actually, they were signed by the Toronto Northmen on March 31, 1974. The franchise, owned by Canadian businessman John Bassett, moved to Tennessee just over a month later. Bassett received pushback from some of that country’s government offcials – who wanted to protect the Canadian Football League – and opted to take his team south of the border.

The three-year, $3.86-million deal (Csonka got $1.4 million) was far and away the WFL’s biggest splash.

“I’m not a kid coming out of college anymore,” Csonka told the Tampa Bay Times for a September 8, 1974 story. “I’m not leaving a million dollars on the table. My dad didn’t raise any stupid kids.”

The contracts, as you might expect, were a hot topic of conversation among the Dolphins as they entered their final season before the band broke up.

“We are professionals,” Csonka said. “We will play like professionals no matter what city we’re in. We’re extremely anxious to leave the Dolphins and NFL winners.”

Csonka, at 28, was the NFL’s top fullback and coming off his second consecutive 1,000-yard season. He was named MVP of Super Bowl VIII, scoring two touchdowns and racking up 145 yards in Miami’s 24-7 victory over Minnesota.

Warfield wasn’t targeted a lot due to the Dolphins’ run-heavy attack in 1973, but he made his catches count. He closed the year with 29 receptions for 514 yards and 11 touchdowns.

Kiick was entering his sixth season with Don Shula’s juggernaut, and had added incentive to jump leagues after playing behind Mercury Morris for much of 1973. The result was a career-low 257 yards on 76 carries and no regular season touchdowns.

Yet, a sampling of other Dolphins suggested there were no hard feelings.

“There isn’t a player in professional football who wouldn’t jump to the new league for the kind of money they got,” safety Dick Anderson told the Times. “I can’t blame them. You can only play this game so long. And if you take a beating like Csonka does every game, you’d understand.”

Added guard Larry Little, “I’m glad for them. It’s an opportunity. I’m just sorry I’m not going up there with them.”

Shula, for his part, seemed unconcerned about any short-timers attitude, especially from his workhorse.

“I had a long talk with Larry after he got back from Toronto and he said he was going to give it everything he had to win a third Super Bowl,” he said.

While it had to be tough for Miami faithful to know the three would be gone once the season ended, they obviously gave their best to their future former team.

Csonka played in 12 games with 11 starts in 1974, picking up 749 yards and scoring nine touchdowns. Those stats are even more impressive considering he had to deal with shoulder and foot injuries.

Warfield, meanwhile, earned Pro Bowl honors, snagging 27 passes for 536 yards and two touchdowns.

Kiick finished with 274 ground yards and scored once, bettering his numbers from the previous campaign.

In their final game before becoming Bassett’s employees – a 28-26 loss to the homestanding Oakland Raiders in the AFC playoffs – Csonka rumbled for 114 yards, while Warfield had three catches for 47 yards and a TD.

“Until I get back to Miami, I’m still very much a Dolphin,” Csonka told the Miami Herald after the game. “I think we had the best football dynasty ever and they’ll be chasing that one for a long time. See this ring on my finger? Nobody can take that from me.

“But football is a ‘now’ game. The past means a lot to individuals, but to the fans it’s next week that’s important. The Miami fans are a great group … I sure hate to leave them.”

Alas, there would be no repeat in the Dolphins’ swan song.

In fact, the franchise hasn’t won a Super Bowl since.

As for Csonka, Warfield and Kiick’s WFL days, they were short (the league folded after 12 games) and hardly dazzling from a statistical standpoint.

Kiick was the second leading rusher on the Southmen with 462 yards on 121 carries and nine touchdowns; Csonka was third with 421 yards on 99 totes and one score; and Warfield had 25 catches for 422 yards and three TDs.

Csonka played four more NFL seasons in his Hall of Fame career, three with the New York Giants (1976-78) and a last hurrah with Miami.

Warfield – also a Pro Football Hall of Fame inductee – suited up for Cleveland in 1976 and 1977, finishing his playing days in the place he started before joining Miami in 1970.

Kiick spent the 1976 season with Denver and played four games with the Broncos in 1977 before being traded to Washington where he appeared in just one game and then retired.

Starting every game with the Dolphins in 1979, Csonka had 837 yards and a career-high 12 touchdowns.

In 2017, Csonka wrote this on his larrycsonka.com blog:

“I do not regret my decision to jump to the WFL.  It was a business decision.  We all had families and the money offered would help secure our futures after football.  None of us wanted to leave Miami but there was too big a gap in salary and (Miami owner Joe) Robbie wouldn’t even consider discussing our current contracts.  I am happy Coach Shula and I were able to come to terms in 1979 and I was able to end my career with him and the Miami fans.”