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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.

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.

In my opinion …

The only certainties in life are death, taxes and people getting their undergarments in a twist when discussing the College Football Playoff.

Folks can sit back and passively watch the world burn around them, but they’ll start screaming and frothing at the mouth if you think your team deserved a spot in the field more than theirs.

But every sports fan has an opinion on it, and the Sports Fan’s Handbook demands that we are obligated to share that opinion.

So, what do I think about the 2022 CFP seeding (1. Georgia, 2. Michigan, 3. TCU, 4. Ohio State) ?

Meh.

There are 131 Football Bowl Subdivision teams and 10 conferences. Having just four teams vie for a championship is, shall we say … lacking. Certainly, it beats the old Bowl Championship Series (which beats the old Bowl Alliance, which beats the old Bowl Coalition, which beats the old days of awarding “mythical” national championships). But as I’ve said and written many times, four participants mean you have an invitational, not a playoff.

Hearing folks cuss and discuss it amuses me, though.

Alabama fans are mad that a one-loss Ohio State team made it in over their two-loss team.

“But they got smoked at home by Michigan, 45-23, and our losses came on the last play of regulation (52-49 to Tennessee) and overtime (32-31 to LSU).”

I respond with, “Tennessee and Alabama have the same record and the Vols beat the Tide head-to-head, so shouldn’t they get in over Alabama?”

The return argument is that Tennessee was badly beaten by South Carolina, 63-38.

But …

Tennessee dismantled LSU 40-13 in Baton Rouge, and LSU beat Bama in Death Valley. The Tide didn’t play the Gamecocks, so who’s to say they wouldn’t have suffered a similar fate?

And what about Clemson? The Tigers are 11-2, and they won the ACC Championship Game.

Then there’s Tulane, which also finished 11-2 and claimed the AAC title. Oh, and the Green Wave defeated Big 12 champ Kansas State in Manhattan during the regular season.

Ohio State, Alabama and Tennessee didn’t even win the divisions of their respective conferences.

Before you start pelting me with debris, keep in mind I’m not advocating for any team; I truly couldn’t care less. That said, if you had to pick four under the current guidelines, I don’t have a problem with the four that were picked.

Thing is, fans can justify in their minds whatever narrative works best for their favorite sons.

And it’s always bugged me that in a four-team playoff, league championship contests only matter when the CFP wants them to matter.

If LSU had upset Georgia, the Bulldogs would’ve still made the playoffs but a three-loss LSU team – the SEC champions – would not.

And look at K-State. They have a nice trophy, but the team they beat last Saturday (TCU) is in the CFP while they get the consolation prize of playing in the Sugar Bowl.

Fortunately, there’ll be just one more season for the teams who finish fifth and sixth in the CFP pre-bowl rankings to whine. Starting in 2024, it’ll be the 13^th and 14^th-place schools that’ll get to bitch and moan because the field will be tripled to 12.

Obviously, that’ll be a lot closer to a playoff than what we have now and overall, I think it’s a positive change.

The format will feature the six highest ranked conference champions plus the next six highest ranked teams in the CFP poll.

Seeds one through four will receive first round byes, while seeds five through eight will host first round games. The quarterfinals and semis will be played in traditional bowls, followed by the CFP Championship Game.

Although flawed, I find a lot to like with this setup … perhaps because I, too, am flawed. Conference championship games will truly matter again, and as a fan of a Group of 5 school (UAB, which heads to the American Athletic Conference in 2023) there is realistic CFP access for mid-majors. It’s not as good as the Football Championship Subdivision’s 24-team playoff, but it’ll do.

Now, what gets the four-team playoff supporters spitting and convulsing is this whole “access” argument.

“You’ll be putting teams in who don’t deserve it!” they shout. “This is just about money!”

Well, yeah, of course it’s about money. I didn’t think that was a secret.

As for expanding the field with teams that – on paper – have little shot at winning it all, I think that’s great. It’s one of the beauties of tournament play.

When the UMBC Retrievers made the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament in 2018, they had no realistic chance of winning the national championship. But they became the first No. 16 seed to beat a No. 1 seed with a 74-54 beatdown of Virginia.

If only bluebloods had been allowed in the field, something as monumental as that would’ve never happened. And merely being in a championship chase has value.

Isn’t that part of what competition is all about, giving an underdog a chance to punch above their weight?

Once the CFP grows to 12 the last team in on Selection Sunday will usually be the first team out on First Round Saturday, but that won’t always be the case.

There’ll come a time when a Sun Belt team beats an SEC team in December. Outcomes like that make the playoffs a whole lot more interesting to me.

And while we discuss the merits of any postseason, it should be noted that tournaments don’t necessarily determine the best team, only the best team in that particular competition.

I joked last week that if you really wanted to crown a true champion in the FBS, the schools would need to play a round-robin, 130-game schedule. Then at the end, the one with the best record would be the undisputed king of the hill.

So sure, with a 12-team playoff you’ll have schools that probably don’t “belong.” But no one knows for sure until and unless they get the chance.

And I’d rather have a bigger tourney that includes pretenders than an invitational that excludes contenders.

But, that’s just my opinion …