Stories of the '86 Season 2: The $300 Million League

The tragic death of Donald Trump—fall football advocate—in a private jet crash over the Potomac in June 1985 didn’t stop the federal anti-trust case the USFL brought against the League, but it did lead to fissures in the united front. The faction who sided with rival John F. Bassett hastily organized a spring 1986 season. Eight clubs hopped on board, mostly in the south and west. Ivana decided to sit out—she didn’t really care and was more interested in building a case for a settlement that would recoup losses.

Oddly the configuration looked a lot like the fall ‘86 idea with a couple changes: Arizona, Birmingham, Memphis, and a revived Oklahoma (quickly put together and playing in Norman) comprised the Independence Division, while the Liberty Division would feature Baltimore, Jacksonville, Orlando, and Tampa (who would end up folding a day after the season due to unpaid bills and the loss of Bassett). ESPN would show a Game of the Week and playoffs, while ABC agreed to air the Championship game in July on a Saturday afternoon, as part of their Wide World of Sports package. There was no upfront revenue: the group agreed to the same terms the Continental Basketball Association or Major Indoor Soccer had (earnings split after ad revenue). They would incur losses, but they would get some back in the settlement probably; these were the league’s committed clubs, the Iron Guard..

Due to all of the chaos, much of the top-tier talent had already migrated to the NFL or CFL or were in negotiation for ‘86 (no USFL team played in a dome, which counted Kelly out); there would be a further exodus of “First Generation” league talent in ‘87 too. This led the owners to take a cue from their neighbors up north: final rosters were kept at a tight 35 with a requirement of at least 13 players with regional/territorial ties. In an attempt to maintain the ol’ glitz while also trying to grab at nostalgia (a common marketing strategy in Late Capitalism), the new USFL featured 12-a-side, after the Canadians, and strongly encouraged two-way play, which promised higher paychecks for those who’d do it. The personnel depression let the new owners to start to implement wage controls (’83-’85 was run through a sort of non-binding gentleman’s agreement largely ignored, which led to all the fun chaos): by 1987, there was a hard cap set at $1.3 million, with each allowed to sign 1-4 “marquee” players at any price, referred to as “Hometown Heroes.”

The season was a mixed-bag: attendance actually creeped up to an average of 23,465 and ratings were steady. It just didn’t “feel” the same. Memphis had the most talent—Walter Lewis and John Corker returned, they also grabbed Kyle Whittingham, and Buford Jordan (who fled for New Orleans four weeks in)—and dominated the league going 15-3, but Lewis still had to concoct a last second mad dash drive to defeat the Ted Marchabroda-coached, 9-9, Stars 35-32 to win the title. Lewis completed 6 straight passes over 88 yards, culminating in a 13 yard catch by 22-year-old Rahm Bednarik, purported illegitimate son of NFL legend Chuck, with six seconds left.

(Lewis would throw for a league record 4,267 yards, part of a 6,000 all-purpose yard season; the season would earn him a roster spot with the Falcons in ‘86. Corker would follow in ’87, part of the final exodus—ed.) 

It all seemed a little Mickey Mouse after three wild years, but it still put pressure on the NFL, and even the CFL, to a lesser degree: taxi squad and training camp guys and other fill-ins were making way more playing closer to home (Willis Adams, who returned the kick-off that got the Browns to the ’85 AFC title game, and Vince Heflin, the quiet hero of Super Bowl XX who finished with 100 yards on 6 catches, both took six figure offers from Memphis in ‘86); there was still always the threat of a big-time college star signing a marquee contract (Boz, as detailed in the draft analysis below).

So the case had to be won somehow, this whole thing had to be smashed, we must return to before. But with Donald dead and out of the way—his endless showmanship, propensity towards bitchy gossip, and compulsive lying made him a good party guess and a terrible witness—the USFL could build a solid case. All the evidence of collusion by the NFL and mass media was there, the wage suppression, etc. The USFL’s new angle was an appeal to the zeitgeist: look how hard the spring league was working, look how innovative, putting together a little show against incredible odds was very American; they embraced the creative destruction that made this country great! Look at how piss ant it was, too, and it was only piss ant because it wasn’t fair and hadn’t been the whole time. It was turning the lumpen jury to their side. How many big shots ruined their pool supply businesses, Yugo dealerships, and traveling Americana auction services?

What clinched it, though, was hard evidence: In mid-July, a few weeks before the final decision (while the USFL season wrapped and NFL training camps opened up), The Hartford Courant leaked audio of Jim Irsay laying out the entire league plan to sink the spring league to Tom Mees, host of USFL Digest, ESPN’s weekly recap show. The conversation occurred at an ESPN-NFL Films watch party for the Statue of Liberty centennial.

On the stand, Beth Kowalski—Whalers beat reporter, who attended for a brief write-up—described Jim having “what could only be called ‘Big Cocaine Mood', or 'The Toot-Sweets,’” as he cornered Mees near the shrimp. Irsay revealed his long-term vision of owning the Colts and Pacers, as well as the Indianapolis Indians (which will be the Cleveland Indians after he buys them, with Razor Shines as manager), and his revival of the Indianapolis Racers (he was going to buy the Whalers and relocate them there), then those hoosiers will finally love him and daddy. Most important, and most damaging, however, was Irsay laying out the NFL threat of denying ESPN even access to NFL highlights for Sportscenter if they continued to do business with the USFL, a league that had to be crushed to preserve the NFL’s monopoly on America’s great game. Making all those guys bleed the last three years—especially Trump, what a loser—was just the start.

The jury was always going to go with the USFL—it was clear—but Irsay’s comments and his admonishing of an American martyr finally gave them a number, something that they were having difficulty determining. They were awarded $100 million, roughly three years of losses, which trebled out to $374 million.

The old fall pro-Trump faction—who sat out ‘85 and ‘86—took their share and ran, never to return. The others, who did participate, pooled their settlement in a trust to keep the league going.

The NFL was badly damaged by the losses but still coherent. Now was time for strategic retreat, most thought, and retrenchment; a “détente” emerged with the USFL. Starting in ’88, (allowing the NFL one last grab at stars with no repercussions) a transfer window/posting system—inspired by European soccer and the MLB/Japanese baseball agreement—would allow for negotiations between clubs for talent, with fees for contract purchases.

It also meant the league needed to formulate more rigorous internal systems to streamline costs (suppress wages) and promote club loyalty (expanding club rights over a player, maintaining closed markets). This was harder, though, because the dingbats—like an increasing number of Reaganites in the capitalist and landowning classes—were all starting to drink the Kool-Aid on the Free Market propaganda they were pedaling. Salaries would continue to rise into the ‘87 offseason. The contradictions weren’t resolving themselves.