USFL '86: San Antonio, or, Marty Ball

 

The Gunslingers averted financial disaster the year before, and "The Directory" running things seemed serious. An 8-10 finish--achieved through a dramatic last second win over Chicago in Week 18--was good enough to make the league's generous playoffs. 

Rick and the Slingers would stun six point favorite Oakland in the Wild Card, when Earl Campbell pulled a Walt Frazier: mostly contained by the Invader defense, Campbell seemed to injure his leg in the 3rd, getting up from a Greg Braclin lunge and limping off the field and into the tunnel. Neueheisel's arm kept them in it; trailing 39-35 with 2:17 left, the Tyler Rose's shadow returned, casting a long shadow as he stood away from the huddle. Earl only finished with 42 yards, but the vet would catch a looper and truck in for the winner. 

A boon for the league: thought to be a wash-out collecting a final payday back in '84, his performance further secured a legendary status. He would be the main motor a week later in Detroit--rushing for a personal playoff best 234 yards--but the Panthers mauled everybody else in an easy 56-23 win. He didn't appear to be in tears, but rather exuded a sort of stoicism on the astroturf, telling Jim Lampley, via satellite, that he would retire. A bittersweet end, the stuff of a Philip Kaufman movie.

The success was enough for The Directory to work together rationally and roll some dice. They beat out Houston and a still confused League for prospects--the USFL front office accidentally listed Texas and Texas A&M on both clubs' territorial lists, leading to pretty vicious competition. Earl Campbell's retirement included a silent partner equity stake; his personal appeal to Aggie Anthony Toney to "step into my cleats" led to a shock signing. Particularly hardcore Texas football fans perusing and "posting" to Austin-based The Source computer networks celebrated the signing of obscure UTEP linebacker Seth Joyner. Domingo Bryant inked a day after the NFL draft, frustrating the Oilers. A dome was on the horizon. The installation of retractable Soviet awning technology around Alamo Stadium--a gift of the Consulate in Dallas--raised suspicions only among Birchers. The Gunslingers were also the only club to stave off Spanos, giving Rick Neuheisel a restructured deal through '88. 

A surprising '85 didn't save Gill Steinke's job. Part of it might've been a clash of egos. Steinke called every stakeholder in the club--trying to figure out who was in charge--to lobby for improvements of amenities for players, field conditions, larger orders of Sqwincher, etc. The rigid, yet amorphous, structure at the top--more cabal than bureaucracy--led to Gill becoming the public face of the team. This offended a Lt. Col (ret.) Hangum, who may have initiated a smear campaign. The Directory's PR apparatus--a fax machine with a private number--fed local media rumors that the old coach suffered from dementia. Steinke's extremely poor play calling in the Western Semi-Final--leaning too much on Earl, mainly--was enough to convince the public. 

To maintain legitimacy, The Directory would bring in Marty Schottenheimer. Schots seemed the heir apparent in Cleveland in '84, after taking over as interim head coach, posting a 4-4 record after a 1-7 start. The Plain-Dealer would attribute his release to a fight over access to a "chateau"--really a wood-sided Modernist-designed ranch house--on Lake Erie as the reason that Modell let him walk.

Marty spent spring '85 working ESPN broadcasts and occasionally joining Tom Mees or Bob Ley in studio. Approached by the Bills in April, Marty prepared to interview with Ralph Wilson when three wives of identifiable Directory members flew Marty to a Junior League meeting to discuss the benefits of football in building young men's "physical and mental gifts." Mrs. Dewey--whose beau was an intellectual property lawyer--Mrs. Hangum, and Mrs. Howe--her husband an analyst and trader at the San Antonio offices of energy firm Enron--took copious notes during his talk and asked extremely pointed questions regarding his character, defensive/offensive theories, and personnel hypotheticals.

The trio negotiated an offer, which included access to a ranch-turned resort called The Black Rooster, and submitted it for review to The Directory, along with blackmail materials against their husbands--all fallen men, all tied to a reported sex dungeon in the bowels of a Casa Bonita. The hire was approved, and Marty spent the fall coordinating club decisions via telex and communiques via The Source. The signing was praised in national media, The Times going so far as to consider it "The Sign of an Emerging New Epoch." Fairly extreme, but Marty seemed like the real deal and here he was, with a club thought DOA after one season. Expectations were genuinely high; it even rattled the Spurs, who saw a modest number of ticket sales bleed off. The Cowtown was going cosmo.