The extraordinary turmoil of 1974 began to push the ABA out of Utah. But in that very same year, unbeknownst to anyone at the time, the future of professional basketball in Utah was being born down in New Orleans.
The valuable market was a highly coveted location for the ABA back in 1967, but they were unable to find any local buyers willing to invest. New Orleans had plenty of deep pockets at the time, but they were preoccupied with bringing professional football and baseball to the city. So out of desperation, the ABA agreed to a deal with seven investors — mostly from out of state — for the shockingly low entry price of $1,000. The ABA’s 10 other original teams each had to pay $30,000.
The New Orleans Buccaneers were actually a good basketball team that reached the first-ever ABA Finals (which they lost to the Pittsburgh Pipers). But the Buccaneers struggled financially, mainly because they really didn’t anywhere to play. They bounced around between the gyms at local colleges and various concert halls, before desperately exploring other options throughout the state of Louisiana. Ultimately, the team had to relocate to Memphis in 1970.
So why was the NBA so eager to swoop in just four years later? Well, for starters, the Oscar Robertson lawsuit was still ongoing, preventing any possibility of a merger with the ABA. (This didn’t stop the rumors from flying, though. In the spring of 1974, newspapers were reporting a proposed deal for the NBA to bring in most — but not all — of the ABA teams. The Utah Stars were notably left off that list, due to Bill Daniels’ inability to secure a stable buyer.) But the biggest reason the NBA was so gung-ho about New Orleans was the construction of the Louisiana Superdome — a massive structure designed to be versatile enough to accommodate football, baseball, and even basketball.
However, the NBA was also forced to turn to a group of out-of-state investors to fund this expansion team. Ultimately, nine men (mostly from California) agreed to pay more than $6 million for the franchise, which was approximately double the price Daniels had valued the Stars at. Fred Rosenfeld, the man in the middle of the photo at the top, was named the first president of the team. As a Southern California attorney, Rosenfeld had gained experience in the NBA by representing Laker stars Elgin Baylor and Gail Goodrich. But Rosenfeld was not the majority owner. That was another Southern California native, who was not pictured in the above photo.
Sam Battistone Jr. was the heir to a massive pancake restaurant that had locations in 47 states at its peak. Unfortunately, it had the racially insensitive name of Sambo’s. For those who don’t know, this is a reference to an old story that actually came from India, called Little Black Sambo. It’s about a boy who goes wandering through the jungle with his brand new clothes and umbrella. He encounters four hungry tigers and gives them his fancy clothes to dissuade them from eating him. The tigers then begin to argue about who looks better in their apparel and they chase each other until they … dissolve(?) into some of the base ingredients for pancakes. (Hey, it’s an old kids story!) Little Black Sambo then gets his clothes and umbrella back, and his mom cooks the tigers into pancakes.
At some point, when this story was brought to America, some illustrators decided that Little Black Sambo needed to be an African American and presented him in a stereotypical derogatory way. And it was that style of artwork that Sam Battistone Sr. used to decorate his pancake restaurants with. When the backlash to this racist depiction became insurmountable, Sam Sr. tried to argue that the word Sambo’s was merely a play on his own name. His reasonings didn’t work and his entire pancake empire eventually collapsed. This is something to keep in mind as we move forward in our story. But in 1974, Sambo’s was still going strong and Sam Jr. was quite wealthy.
Anyway, Battistone was initially pretty hands-off with his new investment, letting Rosenfeld call all the shots. And since Rosenfeld was a diehard Laker fan, he immediately began staffing the front office with as many former Lakers as possible — starting with the general manager.
Bill Bertka was a high school basketball star from Akron, Ohio, who played at Kent State after serving in the Army during World War II. After graduating college in 1951, he played for the Santa Maria Golden Dukes in the National Industrial Basketball League for two seasons while also coaching high school ball on the side. In 1954, he became the head coach of Santa Maria’s Hancock College, where he performed well enough to take over his alma mater. But he only stayed at Kent State for four years before returning to California in 1961.
While working as a community recreation director in Santa Barbara, Bertka developed a successful scouting program while also hosting his own radio show. At some point in time, he became friends with Rod Hundley (Jazz fans should know this name), who convinced the Lakers to officially hire Bertka as a scout in 1968 — something that was apparently unprecedented at the time. In 1971, Bill Sherman (remember him?) made Bertka an assistant coach. And that’s where he was when Rosenfeld offered him the general manager position for the brand new team in New Orleans. Bertka was so committed to this new venture, he even eventually purchased a small percentage of the team.
Scotty Robertson was one of the few Rosenfeld hires that didn’t have any connections to the Lakers. He was born in Arkansas, but moved to Shreveport, Louisiana, while in the sixth grade. Robertson became a star basketball and baseball player at his high school. After graduating from Louisiana Tech, he tried for a professional baseball career, but never could make the big leagues. So he turned to coaching high school basketball in 1952.
By 1963, Robertson had performed well enough to become an assistant at his alma mater and he quickly was promoted to Louisiana Tech’s head coaching position the next season. He guided the Bulldogs for 10 years, winning three conference championships and two coach of the year awards. So even though he didn’t have any previous experience at the professional level, he was a natural choice to be the first head coach of the NBA’s New Orleans team. On paper, at least, I think it’s a good idea to involve local talent whenever possible.
Elgin Baylor was by far the biggest name brought in by Rosenfeld, although he was given the lowly duty of assistant coach. Before Baylor became a Laker legend, he was a high school legend in Washington, D.C. But his poor grades prevented him from joining a major university. However, he happened to have a friend at the College of Idaho (how random can you get?), who bizarrely arranged for Baylor to join the school on a football scholarship. Baylor never played football in Idaho and was accepted onto the basketball team without trying out. Naturally he thrived in his first season there, but it ended up being his only season. The College of Idaho decided to fire their basketball coach and cut back on their scholarships, leaving Baylor out on his own.
However, a Seattle car dealer had learned how amazingly talented Baylor was and convinced him to join Seattle University. Baylor had to sit out a year due to the transfer, but he kept active by playing in the Amateur Athletic Union. The Minneapolis Lakers actually drafted Baylor in the 14th round in 1956, but he chose to honor his commitment to Seattle instead. Obviously, Baylor was overwhelmingly dominant in the NCAA and was drafted once again by the Lakers in 1958, this time with the No. 1 overall pick.
Baylor’s career with the Lakers was simply spectacular. Eleven All-Star appearances, 10 All-NBA First Team honors, and eight trips to the NBA Finals. Sadly, he never did earn that elusive championship ring, as a knee injury forced him to retire in 1971, right before Los Angeles claimed the 1971-72 title. Regardless, Baylor was and remains an all-time great, who was not only inducted into the Hall of Fame, but was a member of the NBA’s 35th, 50th, and 75th anniversary teams. In 1974, Baylor had expressed an interest to get into coaching, and his old pal Rosenfeld was more than happy to oblige.
Rodney Hundley had a rough childhood in West Virginia, moving from foster family to foster family, enduring abuse, neglect, and poverty. But as a 6-4 guard, he dazzled on the basketball court, earning the nickname “Hot Rod.” Despite receiving 100 scholarship offers, he chose to stay close to home, playing at West Virginia University and absolutely dominating. He drafted No. 1 overall in 1957 by the Cincinnati Royals, then immediately traded to the Lakers.
Unfortunately, Hundley was a victim of his own success. He rarely trained and drank heavily, which caught up with him in the NBA. He did make two All-Star appearances, but he had to retire after just six seasons with bad knees. He immediately went into the broadcasting world, starting with the Phoenix Suns. After four years, he moved over to the Lakers, where he was mentored by legendary play-by-play man Chick Hearn. Hundley was a natural at broadcasting, and soon was calling games for CBS and NBC. Naturally, Rosenfeld had to have Hot Rod be the voice for his new team. The only question now was what to call this team.
There doesn’t appear to have been any desire to resurrect the Buccaneers name. The new owners held a name-that-team contest and received over 6,000 submissions. The runner-up choice was the Crescents, which I think would have absolutely stupid. The winner, though, was a name that I consider inspired.
Naturally, the great logo brought some great uniforms along with it. Well … except for the road jerseys. For some strange reason, they decided to go with a purely traditional music note instead of the inspired basketball note. Maybe they did it because they thought the basketball would look weird if it wasn’t colored. But what they ended up with was something that was too thin to go along with the rest of the letters of the logo and it just didn’t look right. Luckily, they only used this jersey for one season. Much like how they only spent one season out of their intended home.
The Municipal Auditorium became the first official home of the New Orleans Jazz as the Louisiana Superdome wasn’t complete by 1974. Plans for the Superdome actually began at the end of 1966, but the project kept getting delayed and went way over budget. So the Jazz had to do with this multipurpose arena that was built in 1930 primarily for Mardi Gras balls. It could fit more than 7,000 people for basketball games, but I imagine it must have felt very dated and not terribly comfortable. It also was booked for so many other commitments that the Jazz couldn’t play all their home games there, being forced to follow the Buccaneers’ footsteps in visiting the local college arenas. And yes, one of those arenas apparently had to place a net around its raised court for the players’ safety. All in all, not the ideal situation for a brand-new NBA team.
And it wasn’t the ideal debut season for the Jazz, either. I’ll save my usual roster breakdown for next time because there are some fascinating stories there that I want to give justice to. But before I leave, I have a couple of more fun front office stories that happened before the calendar turned to 1975.
For whatever reason, Scotty Robertson got off to one of the worst starts in NBA history. In his first 15 games, he only won one game. And those 15 games turned out to be the only games he coached for the Jazz, as Fred Rosenfeld fired Robertson on November 17. Robertson took a few years off of coaching before becoming an assistant for Buffalo in 1977. He then spent the next 20 years bouncing around the NBA as an assistant coach, serving as a head coach briefly for Chicago and Detroit. He retired in 1998 and died of lung cancer in Ruston, Louisiana, at age 81 in 2011.
Elgin Baylor was named the interim head coach for the Jazz, but he only coached one game (which he lost). Baylor’s tenure was so incredibly brief because Rosenfeld already had the perfect former Laker waiting for him. (I wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually Rosenfeld’s original choice all along.)
Butch van Breda Kolff was born in New Jersey to a professional Dutch soccer player. Young Willem (sometimes called Bill, but almost always called Butch) attended Princeton University, where he played both soccer and basketball. After graduating in 1946, the 6-foot-3 guard signed with the New York Knicks, but had a relatively mediocre career and retired in 1950. He immediately dove into coaching, becoming the head coach of Pennsylvania’s Lafayette College in 1951. In 1955, he moved over to New York to take over Hofstra’s program. And in 1962, he experienced the same honor that Bill Bertka and Scotty Robertson had of coaching at his alma mater. Van Breda Kolff was so successful at Princeton that the Los Angeles Lakers hired him in 1967.
Led by Elgin Baylor, Jerry West, and Wilt Chamberlain, the Lakers reached the Finals in van Breda Kolff’s first NBA season. But they lost to the Celtics in six games. They returned to the Finals the next year, but lost in Game 7 by two points. Controversially, van Breda Kolff had refused to play Chamberlain for much of the fourth quarter, allegedly having told the all-time great that “we don’t need you.” Rather than suffer the embarrassment of being fired, van Breda Kolff decided to resign of his own volition.
Van Breda Kolff then took over the Detroit Pistons in 1969, but abruptly quit in 1971 because he was tired of being cursed at by the fans. In 1972, he was hired as head coach of the Phoenix Suns, but was fired after a mere seven games. In 1973, he moved over to the ABA to guide the Memphis Tams, and he managed to last a full season with them, but was fired after the franchise got new ownership and became the Sounds. That left van Breda Kolff completely free to join the New Orleans Jazz on November 18, 1974.
Shockingly, on December 5, 1974, Fred Rosenfeld announced that he was stepping down as team president. He said that it was becoming too difficult for him to keep traveling back and forth between Louisiana and California, but the newspapers made it quite clear that he was being forced out for reckless spending. Another major factor was Rosenfeld’s controversial trade for Pete Maravich, which we will go into full detail next time. So the New Orleans Jazz went into 1975 with Sam Battistone Jr. firmly in charge.
Ironically, Rosenfeld actually ended up settling down in Baton Rogue, Louisiana. He got into hotels and restaurants and even had his own radio show before passing away in 2020 in Baton Rogue at the age of 86.
And that wraps up the incredibly monumental year of 1974. And 1975 looks like it’ll be a doozy, too, as we’ll have to untangle the messy collapse of the Utah Stars and take a look at who the New Orleans Jazz actually played in their inaugural season. Hope to see you there!





































