An American soccer century

Raise a glass, tip your hat, or – if you’re feeling extra festive – juggle a ball, because today is the 100th anniversary of major league soccer in the United States.

Don’t believe me?

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl and Instagram @scottscribe60

Well, then, perhaps you’ll believe the secretary of the United States Soccer Association, James E. Scholefield, who wrote this in the May 20, 1921, edition of the Evening Herald newspaper in Fall River, Massachusetts:

Though from a playing sense the soccer season is closed, the next few days is expected to make history in the development of the game in this country. Tonight the big Professional League “The American Soccer League” meets at Hotel Astor in New York. It is expected that permanent officials will be elected and the constitution and by-laws adopted. All the clubs are enthusiastic and each have put up guarantees unheard of in the history of soccer football in this country. There is naturally much disappointment in many cities who have not been able to obtain coveted franchises, and in a few years it is certain that professional soccer will be the fall and winter sport of the country.

Obviously when I write “major league soccer” I’m not referring to Major League Soccer (it’s still a relative baby, born in 1996). Nor am I claiming the ASL was the introduction of professional soccer to America, because it wasn’t. There were already stateside footballers getting paid to play, and in 1907 the St. Louis Soccer League became the first fully professional circuit in the United States. But the original ASL was the country’s initial attempt to make the Beautiful Game a major national sport, although its roots and branches were very much regional.

Culled from the National Association Football League and Southern New England Soccer League, the original franchises were New York Soccer Club; Todd Shipyard (Brooklyn); Celtics (Jersey City); Philadelphia Field Club; Bethlehem Steel Company (Bethlehem, Pennsylvania); Harrison (New Jersey) Soccer Club; Fall River (Massachusetts) United; and J and P Coats (Pawtucket, Rhode Island).

At the time the ASL was hailed as the vehicle to begin soccer’s rise as the second major sport in the United States, joining baseball.

Al Spink, who founded The Sporting News, wrote:

At last soccer football is to take its place as the winter game to be played from fall to spring, and in the same way as baseball is played from spring to fall. There is a (great) deal of capital behind the newest soccer enterprise. The president of the league is W. Luther Lewis, a brother of H. Edgar Lewis, vice-president of the Bethlehem Steel Company. Thomas W. Cahill, the guiding spirit of the league, has been called the father of American soccer. He conceived and founded the present national body, which has grown to such proportions it embraces some 25 affiliated state associations fostering the booting sport.

It was, indeed, a big deal. With owners flashing plenty of money around and willing to spend it, rosters were augmented by the arrival of many European stars.

The Boston Globe trumpeted one of the first big signings:

British soccer stars have already begun to arrive here to get a chance in the new league. (Willie) Porter, the crack Hearts Forward of the Scottish League, landed yesterday and was promptly captured by Philadelphia.

But soccer’s relationship to America has always been a rocky one, and it wasn’t long before things went sideways. While international players elevated the game here, their influx all but shut out native-born footballers.

In a 1927 column, Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Westbrook Pegler addressed the issue:

There are only two native Americans in this league, Davey Brown, of the New York Giants, the leading goal scorer of the league, and Tommy Florrie, of the Providence team. The rest of the athletes are English, Irish and Scotch, Welsh, Germans, Frenchmen, Italians and Jews from Austria. The British Isles are the greatest soccer country in the world, but although crowds of 100,000 have been checked in at the turnstiles for big games in England, the president of the American Soccer League claims that his teams pay highersalaries than any of the European teams. That is why the European club owners are always so leery of agents representing the American teams.

This financial tug-of-war created a major rift between the USFA and soccer’s international governing body, FIFA, but then the ASL also began quarreling with the USFA over participation in the National Challenge Cup, which required extensive travel and took place during the league’s regular season. The ongoing ASL vs. USFA crisis became known as the “Soccer War,” leaving both sides much worse for wear. Ultimately there was infighting among league owners themselves, franchises came and went, and when the USFA put financial backing behind a new league in 1928 (the Eastern Professional Soccer League) the ASL’s days as soccer’s grand United States showcase were numbered. The Great Depression – which began in August, 1929 – made sure of that.

By the time it went out of business in 1933, the American Soccer League had burned through 47 different teams but never expanded beyond the Northeast. One hundred years after the ASL’s introduction, American professional soccer still hasn’t become “the fall and winter sport of the country,” which I’m certain would be disappointing to Mr. Scholefield. It is, however, still alive and kicking. And as someone who owns $125 worth of Chattanooga FC, this makes me happy.

What if …

For now at least, that European Super League nonsense is off the table. Ultimately it was halted by thousands of angry supporters who believe world football competitions should be based on sporting merit, not cherry-picked by billionaires with enough expendable income to form their own private club. It didn’t hurt that the Union of European Football Associations (UEFA) threatened to boot teams from their domestic leagues and bar players from World Cup and other tournaments.

The owners of the clubs have been properly shamed, and the Super League is back to being a bad idea instead of a bad reality.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl and Instagram @scottscribe60

Still, all this got me thinking …

How would American fans react if the game they’re most passionate about went rogue? Just for fun – knowing it could never happen – let’s say 12 NFL owners decided to break away and form a new American football Super League in the spring.

According to Forbes the most valuable franchises in 2020 were the Dallas Cowboys, New England Patriots, New York Giants, Los Angeles Rams (those four are worth at least $4 billion), San Francisco 49ers, New York Jets, Chicago Bears, Washington Football Team, Philadelphia Eagles, Houston Texans, Denver Broncos, and Las Vegas Raiders. For our purposes, we’ll make them Super League members (although as a Jets fan I realize the word “Super” hasn’t been associated with Gang Green for more than half a century).

The NFL Super League would be divided into three, four team pools: The Giants, Jets, Patriots and Eagles in Pool A, Cowboys, Bears, Football Team and Texans in Pool B, and Rams, 49ers, Broncos and Raiders in Pool C.

Pool play would be round robin (six games per team) with the playoffs contested single-elimination style among the three pool winners and wildcard team.

Using my format, the NFL Super League would span eight weeks in April and May.

Is it ridiculous?

Oh, yeah.

It’d be difficult for a cyborg to make it through a year-round football season, much less a human. And of course the NFL would never allow anything that didn’t involve all 32 of its cash cows.

But that’s not really my point – I’m thinking more about the perception of it all.

The 12 soccer renegades in the Super League (AC Milan, Arsenal, Atletico Madrid, Chelsea, Barcelona, Inter Milan, Juventus, Liverpool, Manchester City, Manchester United, Real Madrid and Tottenham Hotspur) weren’t leaving their domestic leagues either – they were just creating a closed, big-money extravaganza outside of their regular season fixtures and other annual events. That’s what enraged supporters.

This NFL Super League would be (theoretically) doing the same thing. So when news broke about a norm-busting soccer series involving iconic clubs, I wondered how such an earth-shattering decision would be received by pro football fans. I assume that – unlike sports enthusiasts in Europe – Americans would be wildly excited about a gridiron super league, with TV ratings rivaling those of traditional playoffs. Sure, fans of the franchises left out would bitch and moan, but they’d be bitching and moaning while watching. And the reason they’d be watching (me included) is because those of us in the United States are conditioned to accept the franchise model.

According to Market Watch, the NFL is the most profitable sports league on the planet, raking in $13 billion annually. And teams don’t belong to a city or the citizens of a city (Green Bay being the notable exception). You might live in Atlanta and identify with the Falcons, but make no mistake – they belong to Arthur Blank, not you.

NFL owners will do what they want with little regard to the fan base, whether that’s threatening to move to another city unless they get a palatial new stadium or actually using moving vans and doing so in the middle of the night. That’s why, for example, the Baltimore Colts are now the Indianapolis Colts and Oakland Raiders are the Las Vegas Raiders. A team might have a rabid, loyal fan base, but if an owner sees a better deal elsewhere he or she will pursue it. That’s how the world of the NFL turns and it has long since been accepted by those of us who follow tackle football.

It’s not, however, how European association football fans view their clubs because for them there is a real sense of ownership – sometimes literally. The leaders of the potential Super League clubs tried to tear a page from their peers across the pond, but underestimated how deeply ingrained these teams are to the culture and fabric of their cities and citizens. Roots run deep, and traditions span generations.

The beauty of global soccer is that any club – regardless of how far down the pyramid – has a path to reach the summit of the sport. Because results are the most important criteria, the smallest club can win its way to the top tier of soccer, raising the hopes and spirits of its community along the way. It’s a massive party, and everyone’s invited.

In the NFL, however, that’s not the case. We pay money to watch the franchises play, but those franchises are playing for the NFL, not us. It controls the dance and the dancers – and we’re perfectly happy to be wallflowers.

No-frills soccer

When it comes to sports I’m a gimmick guy, so usually when a rule innovation comes along, I’ll be the first to embrace it.

The American Football League introduced the two-point conversion to the pro game, which is one of the reasons (there were many) I liked it better than the NFL.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Twitter @adamsonsl

The American Basketball Association had the three-point shot and red, white and blue basketballs, so to me it was superior to the NBA.

The World Hockey Association instituted sudden death overtime and (briefly) used blue pucks, thus it got more of my attention than the NHL.

So if I could work my will on soccer, I’d offer up some radical changes, right?

Nope. If anything, I’d make it even less modern because when it comes to the Beautiful Game, I’ve become an old fuddy-duddy. (Only someone old would even use the term “fuddy-duddy,” so you know I’m serious about this).

The subject came up when a friend of mine and I were discussing different ways sports have tweaked their rules over the years. We praised the seven-point touchdowns of the World Football League, spoke glowingly of the pandemic-inspired runner-on-second rule in Major League Baseball extra-inning games, and pledged our complete support for the four-point shot in the BIG3 league.

Knowing that association football is my passion, my buddy asked me how I’d reshape it if I could be its puppet master. Frankly, even I was surprised at how I’ve embraced soccer minimalism over the years.

For starters, I’d do away with penalty kicks to settle draws. To me, PKs should be reserved for fouls that occur during the course of a game and not used to determine the winner of that game. Having a match end in penalty kicks is akin to a field goal contest deciding a football game or a home run derby taking the place of free baseball after nine innings.

So does this mean overtime play should be used to break ties?

No.

And yes.

No if it’s a regular game on the season schedule. Remember what I said about settling draws? In my humble opinion, not all draws should be settled. If clubs play 90 minutes plus injury time and share the same score, then a tie seems to be a fair outcome for both.

The answer, however, is yes if the game is part of a tournament. If draws aren’t an option – say, in a knockout competition that requires advancement following each round – then extra time should be played until one side scores a goal. In 1975 the New York Apollos and Worcester Astros were declared co-champions of the American Soccer League when they played 67 and half minutes of overtime in their title game showdown but couldn’t change a 1-1 scoreline. That, however, is a worst-case scenario. And besides, that wouldn’t be a scenario at all if I ran things because there would be no title game showdown. In most soccer systems outside the United States, a league title is determined by which club has the most points at the end of a season. I think champions should be judged by their entire body of work, and a team that secures the best record through the course of a 30-plus match round-robin grind has earned the hardware.

Plus, there are plenty of cup competitions outside of a league season for those who enjoy win or go home tournaments.

The only playoffs I care to see in soccer are to decide promotion and relegation in an open pyramid, but I doubt I’ll live long enough to ever experience that in America.

So while I’m all for innovation when it comes to virtually every other sport on the planet, the older I get the more I prefer soccer that’s devoid of novelties. It’s a disconnect I can’t explain, especially since I grew up with the original North American Soccer League and once embraced its 35-yard shootout and fringe jerseys rocked by the Caribous of Colorado.

It’s not that I yearn for a return to cleated boots or an eight-panel ball with laces – I’m not that much of a fuddy-duddy. It’s just that for me, the simplicity of soccer is simply perfect.