The Global Basketball Association

Professional basketball has blossomed into an international game, with high level hoops played not just in North America, but Spain, Germany, Turkey, Australia and beyond.

But what if there was one league that spanned the globe?

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

Actually, there was – or at least one that billed itself as such.

If you don’t remember the Global Basketball Association you aren’t alone; its lifespan was shorter than that of a gym rat’s second-hand sneakers.

Officially formed on March 5, 1991, the GBA was spearheaded by former American Basketball Association commissioner Mike Storen. In making the announcement, Storen said the first season – which was to begin just eight months later – would start with four teams based in the United States as well as franchises in Italy and the Soviet Union. Ultimately, Storen hoped the league would have divisions in the U.S., Europe, Central America and South America with four to six teams in each grouping.

“Our goal is to present professional basketball in a number of major communities that today do not enjoy professional basketball,” Storen said during an introductory press conference in New York. “If you look at the NBA, it’s not expanding. The Continental Basketball Association (where Storen also served as commissioner) is in about two or three markets.

“Our goal is to go into major markets and create the first international professional basketball league and create a feature attraction in those communities.”

Some of the early stakeholders in the GBA included former North Carolina State standout Monte Towe and Larry Schmittou, owner of the Nashville Sounds of minor league baseball’s American Association.

Storen said franchise fees would be $300,000 with an operating budget of $1 million per year.

Greensboro, North Carolina, Greenville, South Carolina, Raleigh/Durham and Nashville were tapped as the flagship U.S. franchises, with teams planned for Talinn, Estonia, and San Marino, Italy.

There was also talk of putting clubs in Cincinnati, Louisville, Buffalo and Richmond along with locales in Finland, Greece, Belgium, Trinidad and Tobago, Puerto Rico and France.

Teams would play a 64-game schedule, compete under a combination of NBA and international rules, and use a white basketball.

Salary caps would be set at $250,000 per squad – a pittance compared to the NBA – but Storen said the GBA would not be a minor league.

“Our function is not to be a farm system for or to the NBA,” he stated. “Our goal is to create a viable international professional basketball league. The average NBA salary is $900,000. If a player has an opportunity through his ability to become an NBA player, we would not hinder his ability to do that.”

Historically, fledgling leagues that try to begin play the same year of their formation often miss their deadline, but that wasn’t the case with the GBA. In fact, in August the league got an infusion of franchises when it absorbed Pro Basketball USA, a minor league consisting of teams in Memphis, Albany, Georgia, Fayetteville, North Carolina, Wichita, and Saginaw-Flint, Michigan. (Memphis didn’t make the jump to the GBA).

“We can survive without them and they can survive without us, but it makes more sense to merge,” Ron Bargatze, general manager of the GBA’s Nashville franchise, told Associated Press. “Geographically, we sort of intermingle a little bit.”

When the 1991-92 season began the GBA had 11 teams: the Albany Sharp Shooters, Fayetteville Flyers, Greensboro City Gaters, Greenville Spinners, Huntsville (Alabama) Lasers, Louisville Shooters, Mid-Michigan Great Lakers, Music City Jammers, Pensacola HotShots and Raleigh Bullfrogs.

There were also a couple of “name” coaches on board. Johnny Neumann (former Ole Miss standout who became the first player to sign a hardship clause with the ABA) guided Louisville, and Cazzie Russell (top pick of the 1966 NBA Draft who played 13 years in the Association) coached Mid-Michigan.

Conspicuously absent from the lineup were international teams, although Storen suggested they would join the league for the 1992-93 campaign.

The Jammers – despite finishing fourth in the Western Division with a 24-40 record – won the league championship by eliminating Huntsville and Mid-Michigan before downing Greenville in the championship series, four games to two.

On the plus side, the GBA made it through a full season.

On the minus side, it seemed that very few basketball fans cared that they did.

Attendance was often in the hundreds throughout the league, and every franchise seemed to be a money-losing proposition.

Storen left the GBA at the end of the season and was replaced by Ted Stepien, and when it returned for 1992-93 it was down to eight franchises.

Hall of Famer Rick Barry gave the circuit a shot of positive publicity when he was named head coach of the expansion Cedar Rapids Sharpshooters, and that club was a league-best 12-4 through 16 games.

But there would be no 17th game as the GBA folded on December 20, 1992. Each team owed $23,000 in league dues that had to be paid by January 1, 1993, and the money wasn’t there.

“This is really a crushing blow to me,” Barry told The Gazette newspaper of Cedar Rapids. “I’ve worked as hard as I could probably work, maybe as hard as I’ve ever worked to make something happen.”

The league had a handful of quality players, including John Crotty, who went on to play 11 seasons in the NBA, and Lorenzo Williams, who had an eight-year career in roundball’s biggest league. And the multinational idea was great (even though the league never even made it to the West Coast of the United States). But with the Continental Basketball Association already well-established and getting the bulk of second-tier players, the GBA simply couldn’t generate enough interest to stay afloat.

“All of the teams were experiencing financial problems,” Albany team owner John Payne told AP. “The bottom line is you can’t continue to produce a product that nobody is buying.”

Saluting the ABL

Sixty years ago today, millions of people celebrated the end of an old year before making their New Year’s resolutions.

Abe Saperstein, however, didn’t have much to celebrate since he was tasked with making a New Year’s dissolution.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

Saperstein’s brainchild – the innovative American Basketball League – folded on December 31, 1962, taking with it the 3-point shot, wider lane and a preview of what was ultimately to come for college and pro basketball. The ABL didn’t even make it through two complete seasons, but still left its mark.

Officially formed on April 21, 1960, the ABL tried to challenge the National Basketball Association with a game that gave smaller shooting specialists the chance to make an impact. Chicago (Majors), Cleveland (Pipers), Kansas City (Steers), Los Angeles (Jets), San Francisco (Saints), and Washington D.C. (Tapers) were tapped as the flagship franchises. Honolulu (Hawaii Chiefs) and Pittsburgh (Rens) were added later to give the ABL eight teams to start.

“We can make this the outstanding league in the country,” Saperstein told the Kansas City Times. “These cities were carefully chosen and they make the league nationwide from one coast to the other.”

Saperstein was hardly a roundball novice; he owned both the world-famous Harlem Globetrotters (featuring Wilt Chamberlain), and was part owner of the NBA’s Philadelphia Warriors. Since he was challenging the NBA with the ABL, he opted to sell his stake in the Warriors.

Before spearheading a rivalry with the established league, though, he had hoped to be awarded primary ownership of a Los Angeles-based NBA team. When that didn’t happen, he decided he’d take matters into his own hands with the ABL.

The league began play in 1961-62 with eight rule changes. The most significant were a 3-point shot from beyond a 25-foot arc and the free throw lane enlarged from 12 to 18 feet.

There was also a 30-second shot clock (six seconds more than the NBA).

One major innovation reportedly voted down was dividing the game into three, 20-minute periods.

As is the case with many startups, the first season featured several stumbling blocks.

The Jets didn’t even make it through their schedule, folding on January 18, 1962. Since the NBA’s Minneapolis Lakers had relocated to L.A., the first year ABL club in the City of Angels was unable to compete for fans. The Tapers, also suffering from poor attendance, moved to New York during the inaugural season and eventually wound up in Philadelphia.

And while the Chiefs played before solid home crowds, travel expenses incurred by the other seven teams made it clear it wasn’t feasible to keep a team in Honolulu. (They would set up shop in Long Beach, California, to start the 1962-63 season).

The Pipers (owned by George Steinbrenner) defeated the Steers three games to two to win the 1961-62 league title. They were led by John McLendon, the first African-American coach of a major professional basketball team.

The second season featured just six teams: the Chicago Majors, Kansas City Steers, Long Beach Chiefs, Oakland Oaks, Philadelphia Tapers and Pittsburgh Rens. (Cleveland dropped out of the ABL in hopes of joining the NBA, while San Francisco shifted operations to Oakland due to the relocation of the NBA Warriors to the Golden City).

Former Globetrotter Ermer Robinson, who served as general manager of the Majors in the ABL’s first year, became the league’s second African-American coach in 1962 when he was put in charge of the Oaks.

Less than halfway into the campaign the teams were running out of money and, in most cases, attendance was poor. That prompted Saperstein to pull the plug on the ABL on the final day of 1962 and declare K.C. champion with a 22-9 record.

“Not a single club was operating in the black,” Saperstein told the Associated Press. “About 100 players are involved and they can now be considered free agents. We hope to help them get employment. A great many should be picked up by the National Basketball Association.”

Steers owner Ken Krueger wanted to continue, telling AP that Oakland, Long Beach and possibly Pittsburgh wanted to play on.

“I have suggested that Johnny Dee, our present coach, be appointed commissioner under any such realignment and everyone seems to think he would be a good one.” Krueger said. “We might be able to move the Philadelphia franchise to another city.”

Pittsburgh owner Paul Cohen, however, set his sights higher and wanted to jump to the NBA.

“I’m doing it on my own,” he said. “I think Pittsburgh is a good basketball city. If the type of talent the NBA employs played there, I’m sure the team would be a success. The city has a wonderful arena and interested fans.

“It’s a shame the ABL folded. I’m heartsick for the kids. I know I lost a fortune the past two years.”

During its brief existence the ABL showcased notable players such as Connie Hawkins and Bill Bridges. Jerry Lucas was under contract with Cleveland, but never played a game in the league.

In 1964 the NBA took a cue from the ABL and widened its lane to 16 feet. The 3-point shot, however, didn’t reappear until the American Basketball Association revived it in 1967. The NBA finally adopted it in 1979.

So, allow me to propose a toast to the American Basketball League. It didn’t last long, but its contributions to roundball live on.

A Christmas wish

Some stories start off sad and end up happy.

Some stories start off happy and end up sad.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

Then there are those stories that blend tears with smiles, and you find yourself trying to write the ending.

That leads me to another Christmas Day, and another decision to make about how I choose to feel about it.

Do I pick Christmas Day, 1994, or Christmas Day, 1970?

Is it really even my choice to make?

See, on December 25, 1994, my dad died. Just weeks earlier he had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer, and by December 20 he was already in hospice care.

I was with him when he passed away, cringing as I watched him struggle to breathe and staring at a clock that showed 3:12 p.m. when the breathing stopped.

It was the worst day of my life.

Like many people I grapple with severe depression and man, oh man, did that event start a freefall. Pop was my best friend and my hero, and suddenly he was gone.

And it happened on Christmas Day.

So, are you sufficiently bummed out yet? Can’t blame you. That tale is quite the buzz-harsher.

Please try to bear with me, though, because things get better – even though I thought they never would.

I spent a long time “celebrating” every Christmas Day by reliving the one from 1994 – the one that saw part of my world end.

But as Christmas Day, 2022, is at hand, my mind no longer goes back to 1994, but to 1970.

I was a kid, one who had been mesmerized by the New York Jets’ win over the Baltimore Colts in Super Bowl III. While Joe Namath and company wouldn’t recapture the magic again, they were cemented as my favorite team. And all I wanted for Christmas was a department store New York Jets football uniform (complete with plastic helmet, jersey, pants and shoulder pads).

I made this request quite clear.

“Pop, I sure would like a New York Jets football uniform for Christmas,” I said.

If you’ve ever read me before you know my father was a Green Bay Packers fan, so his response was colored by green and yellow instead of green and white.

“You mean you don’t want a number 15 Packers uniform?” he said with a grin. “You’d look good dressed up like Bart Starr.”

I guess I knew he was kidding, although I couldn’t be sure. And had I torn open a package containing a yellow helmet with a big “G” on the side, I would’ve still been happy. I loved the man dearly, so he could’ve gifted me with a rock and it would’ve been just the rock I had always hoped for.

But of course, it was a Jets kit, courtesy of our friends at J.C. Penny. As far as presents go, it was the best one, from the best dad (who was also my best friend).

And it happened on Christmas Day.

So, I suppose now you’re wondering how I’m able to make my memory default from that awful Christmas to my happiest one.

That’s a good question, and a fair one.

Depression – or at least the way it affects me – is akin to being attacked by a gang of demons that vary in size and strength from day to day (and sometimes moment to moment). When you’re lucky, you can brush them back with a broom.

When you’re not, they will absolutely beat you senseless.

I guess one Christmas Day I just got tired of getting my butt kicked.

So, instead of waking up preparing to be overwhelmed with a profound feeling of loss, I concentrated really, really hard and tried to remember the healthy, happy Pop – the one who lived, not the one who died.

And the more I dug deep into my memory, the more I realized as happy as I was forcing a green jersey over shoulder pads and squeezing into that Jets lid, he was even happier. It was a great day for me, but a great day for him, too. That shared moment now seems more like a treasure, because it is a treasure.

And this season, that brings me comfort and joy.

Look, much of what I’m rambling on about sounds trite; I’m acutely aware we can’t always take our mind where we want it to go. Some days, the sadness is so overwhelming we can barely move. I mean, if we knew how to rid ourselves of depression we’d all do it, right?

Knowing that, I can’t promise you that next Christmas my ruminations won’t revert back to December 25, 1994, at 3:12 p.m.

What I can tell you, though, is that time – and the knowledge that there are caring people everywhere – has helped me give far more weight to my best Christmas than my worst one.

And that nasty gang of demons? Well, sometimes they’ll win.

But other times, they won’t.

And what I hope you take from this is that I know how you feel, regardless of what you feel today and what you might feel tomorrow. There is help available, and sometimes we all need it.

So, this holiday season, I wish you strength and send you love and light. If you look hard enough, maybe you’ll find your own version of a Jets uniform under the tree.

Because things can get better, even though you might think they never will.

If you’re struggling and need help, call or text 988 or chat at 988lifeline.org/chat.