1980: Big losses and small crowds

“Here come the Jazz” proclaimed the newspaper ads, urging the good people of Utah to purchase season tickets for their newly acquired NBA team. But were the good people of Utah actually ready for the Jazz? Well …

On October 15, 1979, the Utah Jazz played their first regular season home game in the Salt Palace. Four Osmond brothers sang the national anthem. Pete Maravich scored a game-high 29 points. But the Jazz lost to Milwaukee 131-107. And the official recorded attendance was a mere 7,721 — barely more than half full. Sadly, this was an omen of things to come.

Perhaps it was the sting of the Utah Stars that kept fans away. Maybe it was the lack of local ties. This was a team owned by restaurateurs from Santa Barbara, California, using a name and color scheme that screamed New Orleans — not Utah. In fact, there weren’t any major figures in the front office or on the court from Utah. And once again, Sam Battistone Jr. and Larry Hatfield took an extremely hands-off approach. So it fell to general manager Frank Layden to drum up local support. He heard that Utahns really took their high school sports seriously, so he lobbied to not have any home games on Friday nights. But that little concession didn’t seem to help much. As the season drug on and attendance continued to lag, Layden began asking the ushers to open up the doors at halftime, hoping that some people would come in off the street to enjoy the second half of NBA basketball for free. I don’t know if many people took advantage of this. Things got so bad, that Layden frequently repeated this joke: Whenever somebody called and asked him what time the game was, he’d reply, “When can you be there?”

Things really did get better. Eventually. But for this opening season, it was pretty rough. So, without further ado, let’s take a quick look at the five most interesting players for the first Utah Jazz season.

Pete Maravich — the face of the franchise since Day One — was unfortunately not built to carry the team through this new chapter. He had his moments (five games of at least 25 points), but on a whole, his ravaged knees had left him a shell of his former self. After a string of poor performances, Maravich’s minutes began to dwindle until he suddenly was benched completely. Wikipedia will tell you that Maravich was only missing games because he was too injured to practice and head coach Tom Nissalke had a strict “no practice, no play” rule. But that’s not true at all.

After reading a bunch of newspapers from 1979 and 1980, I discovered that Maravich was still (relatively) healthy when the benching began. He still went to practice and kept dressing for games, but Nissalke refused to put him in. He even wouldn’t put Pistol in at the end of a close game, where the Jazz needed a 3-pointer to force overtime. That decision perplexed Jazz fans, as Maravich was the league leader in the NBA’s first season with the 3-point line, having made seven of his 11 attempts through 17 games. (It really amuses me how NBA teams were absolutely terrified to take 3-pointers in this era. Entire games would go by without either team taking a single 3.)

Insultingly, Maravich was also benched during a home game against the Lakers, where fans received a free poster of Pistol Pete and Magic Johnson. Nissalke originally tried to brush it off by saying that Maravich merely had a couple of “bad practices.” But it didn’t take long for him to admit that Maravich no longer had a spot on the Jazz. Battistone himself held a private hour-long meeting with Maravich at the end of November, and Layden admitted that he was trying to trade Pistol. Naturally, Maravich felt betrayed by this. He said he was quite excited to be in Utah and even had purchased a $100,000 condo. He was also impressed with the fans’ dedication, as attendance had steadily risen to over 10,000 per game, even though the team’s record remained in the doldrums.

Layden spent several weeks trying to unload the five-time All-Star. But his bad knees, poor defense, erratic shooting, and massive contract scared everybody away. Maravich still had two years and $1.8 million left on his contract, which Utah eventually had to eat. On January 16, 1980, the Jazz reluctantly waived Maravich, agreeing to pay the full amount due to him, but stretched out in smaller payments over a longer period of time. And thus Maravich ended his final season with the Jazz with 17.1 points per game in just 17 games.

Philadelphia was an early contender to sign the 31-year-old shooting guard, but they backed out at the last minute. Boston eventually took a chance on him, which enabled Maravich to return to the playoffs for the first time since 1973. But he was reduced to a reserve role and forced to conclude that Nissalke wasn’t being entirely unreasonable. Even though he had previously stated a desire to play four or five more seasons, Maravich ultimately conceded defeat and retired at the end of the season.

Maravich reportedly became a bit of a recluse in his first couple of years of retirement, experimenting with vegetarianism and various religions. He eventually landed on becoming a born-again Christian — even going as far as to say he wanted to be remembered for his Christianity instead of his basketball career. But that didn’t stop everybody else from honoring his hoops legacy. In 1985, the Jazz retired his number 7 jersey, making him the first player in franchise history to have his number retired. (The Atlanta Hawks later retired number 44 for him, and the New Orleans Pelicans also retired Maravich’s number 7, even though he never had anything to do with that franchise.)

In 1987, two weeks before being inducted into the Hall of Fame, Maravich’s father, Press, died of cancer at age 71. And while reading about this in old issues of the Salt Lake Tribune, I learned about another heartbreaking tragedy that Wikipedia completely overlooked. In 1974, when Pistol was traded to the Jazz, his mother died of an apparent suicide after a long battle with alcoholism. Here I was, thinking that Maravich must have been injured during his first year in New Orleans, when in reality, he was battling with tremendous grief. He remained close to his father throughout his life, and even helped Press gain a scouting job for the Jazz. During Pistol’s Hall of Fame induction speech, he openly wept while speaking of his late father.

On January 5, 1988, Maravich went to Pasadena, California, to record a radio interview with evangelical James Dobson, a controversial figure known for being extremely homophobic even by 1980s standards. After the interview, Maravich played an impromptu game of pickup basketball with Dobson and several others. Maravich hadn’t played any basketball since a Legends Game during the 1987 NBA All-Star Weekend, and he was commenting on how he needs to do this more often since he feels really good. Suddenly, he collapsed on the court and died at the age of 40. Turns out he had a rare congenital heart condition. One of the arteries on the left side of his heart was missing, causing the right side to be dangerously enlarged to compensate.

At the 1997 All-Star Weekend, the NBA honored the 50 greatest players in league history. It was a remarkable ceremony, as every single player honored was alive and present — except for Maravich, who was represented by his two sons. And in a way, that just made the moment all the more sweeter and cemented Maravich with an unimpeachable legacy. I only say this because I can’t help but think about the declining reputation of an even greater Jazz legend, John Stockton. Nobody ever had anything bad to say about Stockton until he retired and became an outspoken critic of vaccines and proponent of far-right politics. Had Maravich survived and continued his association with the bigoted Dobson for several decades, it’s easy for me to imagine his legacy becoming tarnished on an even greater scale than Stockton’s.

Well, that was a lot! Where were we? Oh yeah! The 1979-80 Utah Jazz!

Adrian Dantley was born in Washington, D.C., and played at a Catholic high school in Maryland, before enrolling at the Catholic university Notre Dame. Despite standing just 6-foot-5 and having one leg longer than the other (which required special shoes), Dantley was a dominant low-post scorer. In 1976, he helped Team USA win the gold medal at the Montreal Olympics, before being drafted sixth overall by the Buffalo Braves. Dantley won Rookie of the Year, but Buffalo traded him to Indiana the next season, mainly because the owner of the Braves saw an opportunity to bring back one of his favorite ABA players, Billy Knight.

Dantley got off to a strong start for the Pacers, averaging 26 points and 9 rebounds per game, but he was surprisingly packaged in a trade to Los Angeles after just 23 games. Apparently Indiana felt they needed a center more than an undersized forward. On the Lakers, Dantley found himself as the third option behind Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Jamaal Wilkes, and his scoring fell to just 17 ppg. In the 1979 offseason, former Stars coach and current Lakers general manager Bill Sharman confessed to Layden that he was having a hard time negotiating a new contract for Dantley. Layden proposed trading Spencer Haywood for Dantley, which would solve both teams’ problems. Of course, Layden needed confirmation that Dantley actually was willing to play in Utah. Luckily, the Lakers just happened to have one of the most popular former Utah Stars on their roster, Ron Boone, who convinced Dantley that he would enjoy living in Salt Lake City. The lack of a night life was actually a plus, Boone argued, as it forced players to concentrate entirely on basketball.

Dantley quickly established himself as the primary scorer for the Jazz and put up 28.0 points, 7.6 rebounds, and 1.4 steals per game. He was also named to the All-Star Game, becoming the first All-Star in Utah Jazz history. The reins had been officially passed from Maravich, the first All-Star for the New Orleans Jazz.

Bernard King was born and raised in Brooklyn before attending the University of Tennessee. The 6-7 small forward quickly gained a reputation of being an explosive scorer and was drafted seventh overall by the Nets in 1977. He finished third in voting for Rookie of the Year with 24.2 ppg, but had a slight sophomore slump at 21.6 ppg. 

On October 2, 1979, almost a month after trading Dantley, Layden decided to send Rich Kelley to New Jersey for King, Jim Boylan, and John Gianelli. Kelley had opted out of a contract extension, and Layden didn’t want to risk losing one of the league’s top centers for nothing. However, his choice to trade for another high-scoring small forward so soon after acquiring Dantley was a bit perplexing. In fact, Dantley worried that he was going to be traded again. But Layden felt that Dantley and King would complement each other and form one of the most explosive front courts in the league. But did it actually work? Well …

First the good. King got off to a good start, most notably hitting the game-winning shot in Utah’s first win, a 110-109 nail-biter over the Clippers on Oct. 22. And, according to all the interviews I read, it seemed like King and Dantley genuinely enjoyed playing together — maybe, just maybe, Layden was genius to pair them together.

Now the bad. King injured his foot and ankle early on, which limited his playing time. But even worse, the Jazz learned the hard way why the Nets were so willing to part with him. In Tennessee and New Jersey, King had a history of being arrested, mostly due to substance abuse issues. And then everything fell apart on New Year’s Day 1980. The 23-year-old King decided to ring in the new decade by inviting a woman over to his apartment. According to the woman, King began making advances toward her, which made her uncomfortable, so she tried to leave the apartment. But King allegedly stopped her and forced her to perform sexual acts. She waited until he fell asleep, then called the police. When they arrived, King was completely unconscious and could not be revived until paramedics were brought in.

King was charged with five counts of sexual abuse and for possession of cocaine. The Jazz immediately suspended him indefinitely without pay, but that was eventually overruled by arbitration through the players’ union. King avoided jail time by pleading guilty to a lesser charge and taking multiple lie detector tests to prove that he had no memory of the incident because he was so drunk. He then spent a month in a rehabilitation facility in California to battle his alcoholism. And thus ended his first (and only) season with the Jazz after just 19 games and a scoring average of only 9.3 ppg.

Luckily for King, this whole ordeal turned out to be the wakeup call he needed. After checking out of rehab, he got back into shape by playing in the California Pro Summer League, where he absolutely dominated. Layden and assistant coach Bill Bertka flew down to Los Angeles to watch King and were stunned by his progress. Layden even went so far as to say that King would be the best player on the Jazz, which was quite a remarkable thing to say right after Dantley became an All-Star. However, Layden’s grand plan came to an end before the 1980-81 season could begin.

King diplomatically didn’t blame the Jazz for suspending him without pay — at least publicly. But he did request to be traded away. Since Layden never was one to force a player to stay somewhere against their wishes, he complied by sending King to Golden State for big man Wayne Cooper and a 1981 second-round pick. King finally began playing up to his full potential with the Warriors, reaching his first All-Star Game and a spot on the All-NBA Second Team. He was then traded to New York, where his career reached even greater heights. He made the All-NBA First Team twice and once led the league in scoring with 32.9 points per game. But a devastating leg injury cost him an entire season and almost his career.

After recovering from surgery to repair a torn ACL, a torn meniscus, and a fractured femur, King enjoyed a surprising comeback with Washington, where he became an All-Star for the fourth and final time of his career, in addition to reaching the All-NBA Third Team. But another knee injury cost him another season. And this time, his comeback plans with the Nets (returning to where he started) didn’t go so well. After 32 mediocre games, King was forced to retire in 1993. In 1994, he was arrested again for allegedly abusing a woman. And then in 2004, he was arrested on charges of abusing his wife. Those incidents may have been what led to his delay in joining the Hall of Fame, but he was finally inducted in 2014. He currently works as a part-time broadcaster for NBA TV.

Ron Boone, the former ABA All-Star for the Utah Stars, entered the NBA when he was selected by the Kansas City Kings in the big dispersal draft of 1976. He continued his streak of never missing a game, but now that he was in his 30s, his level of production began to decline. He averaged 22 ppg in his first year with the Kings, then just 17.7 in his second. He was then traded to Denver, who immediately dealt him to Los Angeles, where he was relegated to a role player and put up a career-low 7.4 ppg.

On October 25, the Jazz sent a 1981 third-round pick to the Lakers for Boone. This trade accomplished two things. First, it helped shore up Utah’s backcourt to compensate for Maravich’s shoddy play. And second, it helped generate some interest in the team by bringing back an old fan favorite to the Salt Palace. Boone did start 66 games for Utah this year, but he only averaged 12.9 points and 1.2 steals per game.

Mack Calvin, like Ron Boone, was a bit of a blast from the past for this blog. For those who remember, Calvin began his career with the Los Angeles Stars in 1969, but was traded to Miami for Donnie Freeman after just one season. Calvin then proceeded to make five consecutive ABA All-Star teams, once led the league in assists, once in free throws made and attempted, and twice in free throw percentage. During the tumultuous final season of the Virginia Squires, he was named the interim head coach for six games, but he lost each game. 

He began his NBA career in 1976 with the Lakers, but they traded him to San Antonio after just 12 games. Thirty-five games later, he was dealt to Denver. After spending a full season with the Nuggets, Calvin got into a disagreement with the coach and was basically kicked off the team. When asked about it later, he only said it was personal and refused to elaborate. So whatever the reason was, it cost him the entire 1978-79 season.

On November 27, once the Jazz had decided that Maravich would no longer be a part of their team, they signed the veteran point guard Calvin. Unfortunately, his year away from the game seemed to do no favors for the 32-year-old, as he only averaged 6.4 points over 48 games.

The next season, Calvin signed with Cleveland, but only lasted 21 games before he was forced to retire. In 1987, he became an assistant coach with the Milwaukee Bucks, where he stayed until 1991, when he took that same position with the Los Angeles Clippers. He was an interim head coach for the Clippers for two games, going 1-1. But his coaching career ended in 1992. I don’t know if that was his choice or not, but either way, I find it a slightly sad ending for one of the greatest ABA players of all time.

So those were the five most interesting stories from the Jazz roster in their first season in Utah. With Dantley as the only source of consistency, the Jazz limped along to a 24-58 record, and they once again found themselves in the dreaded coin flip for the first overall pick. The good news was that the Jazz actually owned their pick this year. The bad news was they lost the toss to Detroit, or rather Boston, as they had acquired that pick in a previous trade. But then Boston soon dealt the No. 1 pick to Golden State. However, a very good sign for the Jazz was that Layden was finally confident in his role as general manager and was completely prepared for the 1980 NBA Draft. In fact, he even did a fun television interview where he correctly predicted the top 11 picks — an impossible feat nowadays. And the guy Layden chose at No. 2 was someone he was very happy with.

Darrell Griffith was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky. The 6-4 shooting guard was so good in high school that the ABA’s Kentucky Colonels tried to convince him to skip college and go straight to the pros like Moses Malone. But Griffith declined and enrolled at the University of Louisville, where he guided the Cardinals to their first NCAA championship in 1980. He was named the Wooden Player of the Year and the Final Four Most Outstanding Player, wrapping up his four years at Louisville as the school’s all-time leading scorer at a career average of 18.5 points per game.

In other words, Griffith was the most exciting player in college that year and the one “can’t miss” player in the draft. And the Jazz counted themselves extremely lucky that Golden State only took big man Joe Barry Carroll because they had just traded Robert Parrish to Boston. Of course, I think the Jazz wouldn’t have been able to resist Carroll, either, had they won that coin flip. Because, you know, Utah really didn’t have a center, either. But hey, you can’t downplay the incredible optimism that comes on draft night! And the Jazz had another reason to be excited. Thanks to the Truck Robinson trade, Utah also owned Phoenix’s No. 19 pick.

John Duren was born and raised in Washington, D.C., and chose to attend his hometown Georgetown University. The 6-3 point guard actually played alongside Griffith in the Pan American Games trials in 1979. Surprisingly, Griffith didn’t make the team, but Duren did and helped Team USA claim gold in San Juan. In his senior season, Duren averaged 12.3 points and 7.1 assists per game and was named Big East Player of the Year.

The Jazz were absolutely thrilled that Duren was still available at No. 19, and they envisioned him to form the backcourt of the future with Griffith — making up for the mess left behind by Maravich, Boone, and Calvin. About 1,000 fans gathered in the Salt Palace for a draft night party, where Battistone and Hatfield excitedly announced the first-round picks … before immediately leaving to catch a plane back to California. It really makes sense why the Jazz were initially a tough sell in Salt Lake, when the owners of the team frequently found more pressing business two states away.

But still, the state of Utah finally had an NBA team. And thanks to the Griffith pick, they had some hope heading into their second season. After all, when you’re at the bottom, the only way to go is up!

The digital editions of Watchmen

According to legend, DC won’t revert the rights of Watchmen to Alan Moore until they stop selling the book. I don’t know if that’s necessarily true, but I do know that DC has never ceased repackaging this graphic novel since its inception. There are so many different versions of this story in print, that I couldn’t even begin to list them all. Well, actually I could … I just don’t want to. Instead, I want to briefly touch on the multiple versions that are found on the wonderful DC Universe Infinite app.

If you download the app and sign up for the Ultra subscription (well worth the extra cost, in my opinion), and you do a search for Watchmen, you’ll find it broken down into three tabs: Issues, Volumes, and Omnibus. Under the Issues tab, you’ll be able to read the 12 individual issues of the story, but you’ll notice the first issue has the wrong cover. Instead of the yellow smiley face button sitting in a pool of blood, it’s the rather boring image you see above, taken from the only entry under the Volumes tab, the International Edition. Apparently this cover was used because DC doesn’t hold the trademark to the yellow smiley face outside the United States. They’re fine having it inside their books — just not on the covers.

Anyway, this International Edition came out in 2012 and — at least digitally — provides an identical reading experience to the individual issues. Both have the same colors that John Higgins updated in 2005. The images are crisp and clear, and all the original supplemental material is there. But that’s it. Nothing new. If you want something new, then you need to check out the Omnibus tab, which includes five options.

The Deluxe Edition came out in 2013. It includes a new forward from Dave Gibbons, plus 30 pages of concept art. It is pretty impressive to see the amount of work Gibbons put into the series long before he actually began drawing it. But the meat of the story is exactly the same — which isn’t a bad thing. DC very carefully and adeptly transferred this comic to the digital medium and doesn’t need to tinker with it anymore. I really do enjoy the Deluxe Edition, but I can’t stand the busy cover.

In 2016, DC released something rather unusual — a black-and-white version called Watchmen Noir. I didn’t think I’d enjoy this at first, but I surprisingly found myself drawn in. Much of the story actually does take on a new perspective when you only have the inks. Gibbons’ level of detail shows through even more — especially in Dr. Manhattan’s dramatic transformation scene, which was wisely chosen as the cover for this edition. But in some places, I am really missing Higgins’ colors. Most of Dr. Manhattan’s scenes are dull and lifeless without his glowing blue body or the eerie pink of Mars. And every scene of Nite Owl’s Archimedes lacked the punch that the beautiful color palette provided.

But my favorite part about Watchmen: Noir is how it is the only digital version available that has corrected the splash page of Adrian Veidt fighting his hired assassin. Every other version obstinately leaves in the printing margins in the middle of the page, which causes Adrian’s arms to not line up.

But Watchmen: Noir actually connected the center image to make it one fluid image, just as Gibbons and Moore had intended.

I’m really frustrated that DC didn’t do this for any of the colorized digital versions of Watchmen. It seems like an easy fix, but what do I know?

In 2017, DC took another bold choice with an Annotated Edition. This version features a new introduction by Gibbons, plus a lengthy introduction by the annotator of this volume, Leslie Klinger, in addition to a timeline in the back of everything that happens in Watchmen. The book is formatted with extra wide margins on the sides to include notes that heavily relied on interviews with Gibbons (Moore essentially stopped talking publicly about Watchmen after DC denied his pitch for a 12-issue prequel comic).

I object to this edition for three reasons:

No. 1: The book uses the same artwork from Watchmen: Noir. In my opinion, any attempt to conduct a thorough annotation of Watchmen is missing a key component if it ignores Higgins’ colors. He was the third storyteller of this tale, and his choices are worth exploring.

No. 2: The shape of the book is basically a square, due to its extra wide margins. This might be fine if I were holding the actual physical version of this edition, but digitally, it’s a complete mess. No matter which direction I turn my iPad, I can’t get a good view of the page. And zooming in only makes it harder to keep track of what you’re reading, as you can’t easily compare the corresponding panel to its notes. And heaven help you if a note on the left-hand page references a panel on the facing right-hand page! In a digital format, I declare this edition unreadable.

No. 3: I don’t like the idea of putting too much weight into every single little detail of this story. I think it over inflates the importance of some moments and risks presenting Watchmen almost as an infallible, religious text. I mean, Watchmen is very, very good — but it’s not perfect, by any means. And I don’t see much value in this exercise, beyond the occasional master’s thesis some poor graduate student would write.

In honor of the new HBO show, DC released yet another version of Watchmen in 2019. Simply called the 2019 Edition, this version is completely identical to the Deluxe Edition, down to Gibbons’ 2013 introduction. The only difference is the cover, which is vastly superior to the other versions. By doing an extreme closeup on the eye of the smiley face, DC found a way to artfully dodge the international trademark restrictions. It’s basically having your cake and eating it, too. I just wish they had taken this opportunity to fix that splash page for the digital version.

And so that is all the ways you can read the entire Watchmen story digitally. Most recently, in September 2026, DC released a WIP (Work In Progress) edition of Watchmen #1. I don’t know if DC finally resolved that smiley face trademark issue, or if they were able to get around it by keeping it black-and-white. Anyway, this comic includes a brand-new introduction by Gibbons (he is always happy to write these things!) and even more concept art that wasn’t included in the Deluxe Edition. The big selling point for this comic is the pages are all scans of the actual, finished pages Gibbons had inked before he sent them off to Higgins to be colored. Once again, I feel like this edition is wasted in a digital format, as the extra-large margins just make the artwork smaller on my iPad. I think I may need to break down and visit a comic shop to grab a physical copy of this to truly appreciate its intentions. But then again, I’d be sad that I’m missing out on Higgins’ colors. 

I have heard that DC is celebrating the 40th anniversary of Watchmen by publishing facsimiles of each issue, which allegedly have all the same ads and the original colors. Obviously such a thing wouldn’t translate at all to a digital format, so I would definitely need to go visit a shop to check it out.

So yeah, there’s my brief recap of all the ways to read this story on your device. But I’m mostly interested in seeing how DC continues to adapt this story. After the poor reception to Before Watchmen, DC attempted something even bigger and more controversial — merging Watchmen with the main DC Universe continuity. Next time, I’ll cover how that began with DC Universe Rebirth.

1979: Welcome to Utah!

“Now We Has the Jazz” the Salt Lake Tribune proudly declared on June 9, 1979! Who needs proper grammar when you have a good rhyme in your headline? And the people of Salt Lake City had every reason to rejoice. After years of dreaming, wishing, praying, begging, and scheming, the NBA had finally arrived in the state of Utah! But before I can get to that, I need to talk about the Jazz’s final season in New Orleans.

Pete Maravich, seen here sneaking past Larry Bird, had a long recovery from knee surgery in 1978. While growing restless in the hospital, he gave a bizarre interview on his latest obsession: nutrition. Pistol theorized that he could have grown to 6-foot-8 instead of topping out at 6-5 had he been given a better diet growing up. So at the age of 30, he embarked on a new nutrition regiment that he believed would help him live to 100 and keep playing basketball until he was 50. This diet included abstaining from salt and sugar (except for beer), severely limiting red meat, and ending each night with a tall glass of raw, unpasteurized milk. Now, I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure drinking lots of raw milk can’t be too good for a body trying to recover from surgery.

At the very least, Maravich’s new diet didn’t seem to increase his ability to stay on the court. He was limited to 49 games — the fewest he’d played in a season so far. But he was named an All-Star again with 22.6 points, 5.0 assists, and 1.2 steals per game. It was the fifth, and sadly final, time he received that honor.

Truck Robinson got off to another strong start, averaging 24.2 points, 13.4 rebounds, and 1.5 blocks per game. Unfortunately, Truck wasn’t happy in New Orleans. He didn’t like Maravich and how he got all the attention. He didn’t like his contract and tried to renegotiate it. But his former agent, Lewis Schaffel, was no longer the general manager for the Jazz. And the owners of the Jazz were so strapped for cash that they were preoccupied with moving or selling the team — not giving any of their players more money, regardless of how good they were. So new GM Tom Willingham was forced to send Robinson to Phoenix for Marty Byrnes, Ron Lee, a 1979 first-round pick, and a 1980 first-round pick.

Robinson made one more All-Star team with the Suns, but was eventually traded to New York, where his career trailed off. He eventually retired in 1985, never having returned to the level of play he displayed in that one magical season for the New Orleans Jazz. But he did made it back to the NBA as an assistant coach for Sacramento from 2009 to 2012.

Spencer Haywood was acquired by the Jazz just one week before they traded Robinson away. And I have to think that was somewhat intentional. Perhaps Willingham was negotiating with Phoenix for a while and realized he was only going to get role players for Truck, so he decided to quickly seek a replacement for the star power forward. In any case, Haywood did fill Robinson’s role rather nicely with 24.0 ppg, 9.6 rpg, and 1.6 bpg in 34 games for the Jazz.

Haywood was born in a small town in Mississippi and lived in abject poverty as his father died three months before he was born and his mother struggled to provide for all 11 of her children. By the time he was a high schooler, Haywood was living with one of his brothers in Detroit. He initially enrolled at Trinidad State College in Colorado and played well enough to earn a spot on the 1968 Olympic team. (Maravich also attended the Olympic tryouts, but didn’t make the team.) Haywood helped Team USA win a gold medal in Mexico City, then transferred to the University of Detroit Mercy.

Haywood sought to leave college early, but was denied by the NBA. The ABA also had a rule against underclassmen at the time, but they decided to create a new hardship exception for players living in poverty. (Former Utah State and Jazz player Nate Williams later benefitted from this rule.) Haywood was picked by Denver, where he put up an inconceivable 30.0 ppg and 19.5 rpg en route to winning not only the Rookie of the Year, but also the MVP. 

The next year, Haywood decided to join the NBA’s Seattle SuperSonics. This required him to file a lawsuit against the league, which he won. Haywood was a four-time All-Star in Seattle and a two-time member of the All-NBA First Team. But then he began to decline and was traded to the Knicks. Sometimes it’s a complete mystery for me to figure out why some players from 50 years ago started slipping at a relatively young age. For Haywood, there is no mystery, as he publicly confessed to an addiction to cocaine.

And that’s probably why the Jazz were able to acquire Haywood for just the low price of an underperforming big man named Joe Meriweather. New Orleans had sent Atlanta a 1978 first-round pick for Meriweather back in 1977, but he was frequently injured and unable to win the starting center job over Kelley. Haywood, though, enjoyed a bit of a revival in New Orleans, having increased his scoring average to the highest level it had been since 1973. Coincidentally, he was also a huge fan of jazz music and even hosted weekly jazz shows on the radio in Seattle and New York.

But Haywood was not a huge fan of the idea of moving to Utah. I’ll get more into that later, but for now I’ll just say that he was traded to the Lakers, where his cocaine addiction grew even worse. His production reached an all-time low and he was dismissed from the team during the 1980 Finals for falling asleep in practice. Haywood then went to Italy for a year and attempted an NBA comeback with Washington, which lasted two seasons. In 2007, his jersey was retired by the Sonics and in 2015, he was finally elected into the Hall of Fame.

Gail Goodrich managed to play in 74 games in his last season for the Jazz, putting up 12.7 ppg and 1.2 spg. Unlike Haywood, Goodrich actually expressed excitement in the prospect of moving to Utah, as he already owned a home in Sundance. But he was a free agent and the new general manager of the Jazz wasn’t interested in negotiating a new contract, choosing to wish the former All-Star luck in finding his way back onto a contender. I don’t know if any other teams expressed any interest in Goodrich, but at the end of the day, he did retire from basketball in 1979.

Goodrich moved to Connecticut, where he became an executive in a golf company and studio analyst for NBA TV. In 1996, he was elected into the Hall of Fame and had his jersey retired by the Lakers. And the worst consequence of him initially joining the Jazz is just around the corner!

Rich Kelley, now sporting a full beard, was the most consistent player for the Jazz this year. He was the only Jazzman to play 80 games, and he put up 15.7 ppg, 12.8 rpg, 2.1 bpg, and 1.6 spg. When the move to Utah was announced, Kelley was somewhere between Haywood and Goodrich — not necessarily opposed to relocating, but also openly lamenting the fact that he had just bought a new house in New Orleans. He also declined a contract extension, meaning he would become a free agent in 1980. Not wanting to risk losing Kelley after just one season in Utah, the new GM decided to send him to New Jersey in a rather fascinating trade that I will detail later. And we actually will see Kelley again in a few years.

But before I get ahead of myself I need to wrap up the 1978-79 season. As you can see, a few Jazz players did put up some big numbers. But I think you could call those empty stats, as their performance didn’t translate into a lot of wins. In fact, New Orleans finished with the worst record in the league at 26-56. Worse still, was the mounting financial losses had pushed the franchise to its breaking point. And the original nine-man ownership group had now been consolidated to just two.

Sam Battistone Jr. and Larry Hatfield were both native of Santa Barbara, California, who worked in the restaurant industry. As you’ll remember, Battistone was the heir to the Sambo’s breakfast diner chain, while Hatfield seemed to operate some sort of restaurant supplier business that worked closely with Sambo’s. The two of them never moved to New Orleans and allegedly only listened to Jazz games on the radio in their cars in California. Even though Battistone held the majority of the shares, Hatfield became the driving force of the Jazz and was almost always the one who spoke with the newspaper reporters. Including in the dramatic announcement made on April 11, 1979.

In a move that seems to have surprised everyone, Hatfield announced plans to move the franchise to Salt Lake City. The Utah Pros were understandably devastated and tried desperately to move to Anaheim (which would have been a fun return to the start of my story) or Albuquerque. But as we all know, those plans fell through and the Prospectors (along with their entire league) were forced to fold. Hatfield, meanwhile, heaped praise on the Salt Palace and the history of the Utah Stars. He said that Salt Lake was the only city they considered in the West, which I find to be an unusually specific choice of words. Although Hatfield and Battistone were loathe to admit it, all evidence suggests that Salt Lake was pretty much their last resort. Larger, more lucrative markets like Miami, Minneapolis, or even Toronto would have been much more ideal locations. But I suspect none of them had that one crucial component that Salt Lake had — a place to play. Although the Salt Palace was beginning to show its age, it once again was able to be the primary driving force of professional sports in Utah. So really, when it all comes down to it, I think the biggest factor in bringing the NBA to Utah was the state’s desire to host the 1972 Winter Olympics.

One week after this stunning news dropped, the NBA held a coin toss between the worst teams of each conference to determine who would get the No. 1 overall pick. This was an especially anticipated event, as a generational talent named Magic Johnson was on board. It should have been the Jazz flipping against the Chicago Bulls, but because of that accursed Goodrich transaction, the pick belonged to the Lakers. Well, L.A. won the coin toss (and an eventual five championships), while the Jazz were left out in the cold.

So what would have happened had the Jazz been able to draft Magic Johnson? One theory is that he would have drawn large, excited crowds to Salt Lake. But I think there’s a real possibility that Johnson could have singlehandedly kept the Jazz in New Orleans. As soon as Hatfield and Battistone announced their intention to leave, the city of New Orleans put up a mad scramble to save its team. The Louisiana Superdome filed a lawsuit against the Jazz, and the mayor worked to repeal a hefty entertainment tax that had been plaguing the team. But it was too little too late. There was even an effort for some local investors to buy the Jazz. But Battistone was asking for $12 million for the franchise that had cost $6.5 million just five years earlier. (Just like the Stars, we have a franchise that kept increasing in value, despite losing lots of money.) Anyway, I think the possibility of landing a once-in-a-lifetime talent like Magic Johnson would have convinced the Jazz to at least pause their relocation plans. And if that failed, then the forces fighting against the move would have had a lot more ammunition.

The NBA also wasn’t terribly keen on the idea of moving to Salt Lake. In their defense, there was one strong argument against the move. The lowest attendance numbers for the Jazz in the Superdome were actually higher than the highest attendance numbers for the Stars in the Salt Palace. So there was no guarantee that the Jazz would actually be viable in Utah. Between this and the lawsuit and everything else, the league spent a solid two months debating the move.

In the meantime, Hatfield and Battistone got busy overhauling their team. Even if they weren’t going to move, they were at least going to give themselves a clean slate. Tom Willingham was out as general manager and Elgin Baylor was gone as head coach. Baylor never did coach again, but in 1986, he became a vice president for the Los Angeles Clippers. He held that role for 22 years and was once named Executive of the Year in 2006. But then he was fired in 2008 and subsequently filed a discrimination lawsuit against the Clippers, which he lost. But none of that diminished his legacy as a player. He was elected into the Hall of Fame, and the Lakers not only retired his jersey, but erected a statue of him. Baylor died in 2021 at age 86.

For the first time in franchise history, the Jazz decided to look outside their organization for their new general manager. No longer would they just grab one of their random executives, who also happened to be a former agent. And the man they picked turned out to be one of the most important people in the history of professional basketball in Utah.

Frank Layden was born and raised in Brooklyn before becoming a basketball and baseball player at Niagara University. He coached their baseball team for a couple of years after graduating in 1953, but then dropped down to the high school level until 1966, when he became the athletic director for Adelphi Suffolk College in Long Island, New York. In 1968, he was named the head coach of the Niagara basketball team, and he held that position for eight years.

In 1976, Layden joined his former Niagara teammate, Hubie Brown, as an assistant coach for the Atlanta Hawks. Since Layden was also the team’s director of player personnel, he liked to spend his off days by traveling to other teams to scout their players. His favorite destination was nearby New Orleans, as he could fly down there at 3 p.m., catch the game, then fly back home and be in his own bed in Atlanta by midnight. In fact, Layden made that trip so many times, that he became close friends to all the Jazz officials.

When Hatfield and Battistone offered him the general manager position, he asked if he could also be the head coach, but they denied him that dual role. Layden also expressed some concerns about their plans of moving to Utah, as his wife was dead-set against living in Salt Lake City. But Battistone personally assured Layden and his wife that they would only be in Utah for three, maybe four years at most. And seeing what Battistone did in the next three or four years, I’m inclined to believe that it was always his original plan to use Salt Lake as merely a temporary stopgap until he could move the franchise to a larger market.

Since the Jazz owners didn’t want Layden to also be their coach, they had to go out and find somebody new. Assistant Bill Bertka remained on the staff (in fact, he was one of the few people who made the move to Utah, along with radio announcer Hot Rod Hundley), but for whatever reason he was never in the running for the head job. Former Weber State and Utah State alum Phil Johnson was, though. He had been the Coach of the Year in 1975 for the Kings, but in 1979, he turned down the Jazz to be an assistant in Chicago under Jerry Sloan (remember those names!). So the Jazz turned to a familiar face.

Tom Nissalke, the last coach of the Utah Stars, ended up becoming the first coach of the Utah Jazz. After the Stars folded, he randomly became the coach of the Puerto Rico Olympic team. He then took over the Houston Rockets, where he won Coach of the Year in 1977. But he couldn’t sustain that success and was fired in 1979, just in time for the Jazz to scoop him up.

Of course, when Layden and Nissalke were hired, there was a distinct possibility that they would have to work in New Orleans. But after weeks and weeks of deliberations and fending off lawsuits and consolidating finances and rejecting offers, the move to Salt Lake City was finally approved. And this happy occasion was celebrated with an awkward press conference!

Why did Battistone and Hatfield look so grumpy? And what was with those massive leis around their necks? This is Utah, not Hawaii! Anyway, the people of Utah really were excited to have their own NBA team. And the only question now was what to call it. Nissalke lobbied for a revival of the Stars name, but I think there’s a chance that Bill Daniels could have still owned the rights to it and Battistone was never going to pay for that. And there’s a small chance this also applied to my favorite unused nickname, the Utah Rockies (but with the Silnas). There was a call for a fan vote, the traditional method of naming a team, but Battistone had no intentions of honoring the results. And in this case, I don’t blame him, since the winning name was incredibly stupid. The good people of Salt Lake really wanted their NBA team to be called the Utah Saints. Funnily enough, I was able to find one New York Times article that actually used that name.

Obviously the name became the Utah Jazz. Unlike the Stars, which chose the state name in a misguided attempt to play home games throughout Utah, the Jazz readily admitted they just chose Utah because it was shorter and easier to say than Salt Lake City. And the newspaper editors rejoiced at having a short team name for their headlines. No joke. I found actual articles that specifically mentioned that, and as a former headline writer myself, I totally get it.

In later years, Battistone gave lofty answers about how he kept the Jazz name because he wanted to redeem it after five frustrating years in New Orleans. But in reality, he and Hatfield were just too lazy to change it. Granted, they didn’t have much time to develop a new brand identity for their franchise, but they didn’t have to openly brag about how they wouldn’t need to change their uniforms. I also think a major motivating factor was Battistone’s long-term plan to move the Jazz again after a few years. Why bother renaming a team if it was only going to stick around for three seasons? And thus, the Utah Jazz were born.

Now, I know what you’re going to say. “The Utah should be purple!” Well, I’ll have you know that in all the game programs and ticket stubs I could find from 1979, the Utah was in black, just as the New Orleans was black in the original logo. Anyway, I still think it’s an absolutely beautiful logo and the Utah actually looks cleaner up there than the New Orleans did.

The uniforms didn’t change at all, which made Battistone and Hatfield quite happy. If the name New Orleans had been anywhere on those jerseys, then the owners would have been forced to spend some money to redesign them. And once again, their laziness and frugality worked out in their favor. These were very solid uniforms that didn’t need any tampering.

Well, there was no rest for the weary here. Just one week after finalizing their move to Salt Lake, the Jazz had to participate in the NBA Draft. Bertka was allegedly supposed to help Layden prepare for the 20th pick (which Utah got from the Truck Robinson trade), but I don’t know if he just goofed or if Layden overruled him and wanted to establish a name for himself as the new GM. In either case, the Jazz began their stint in Utah by making one of the worst draft picks in franchise history.

Larry Knight was born and raised in Detroit and began his college career at Ellsworth Community College in Iowa. After two seasons, he transferred to Loyola Chicago, where he averaged 17.6 points and 13.5 rebounds per game. Perhaps Layden was impressed by those numbers but failed to take into account the weak competition Knight played against, as well as his slight 6-8 frame. Or maybe Knight would have actually had the chance of putting together a decent NBA career had he not shot himself in the foot (figuratively, not literally).

For some reason, Knight chose to play hardball with the Jazz and held out of the rookie/free agent camp in July. When he finally joined the team in the preseason, Knight fully admitted that he was not in shape. And Layden demonstrated early on that he was not willing to mess around with contract disputes. So he cut Knight after just two preseason games. And Knight never played in an NBA regular season game, spending the next seven years bouncing around in minor leagues and overseas.

So that was not the best way for Layden to begin his general manager career. But he did actually redeem himself with some of his other offseason moves. And boy, was he busy! Of the 15 players who suited up for the New Orleans Jazz in 1978-79, only two of them played for the Utah Jazz in 1979-80 — Pete Maravich and James Hardy. We certainly have a lot more to talk about, but this post has already gone on long enough. Until next time, when we find out how the Jazz did in their first season in Utah!

Before Watchmen: Our nightmare finally comes to an end

At long last, we have reached the end of the misguided and poorly executed Before Watchmen project. Since the planned Epilogue issue was unceremoniously canceled, everything ends with Comedian #6. And this issue only happened to be the last because of all its publication delays. So … was it worth the wait? Let’s find out, starting with this cover by J.G. Jones. It is well done, as usual, but I think it really spoils the ending of the Comedian killing Robert Kennedy.

For some reason, this was the only Before Watchmen issue on the DC Universe Infinite app to not include the variant cover. Luckily, the app also includes the Comedian/Rorschach trade, which featured all the variant covers. There really was no reason to pair the Comedian and Rorschach in that trade, other than Brian Azzarello wrote both of them. In fact, that’s what DC did with all four Before Watchmen trades. Minutemen/Silk Spectre by Darwin Cooke, Nite Owl/Dr. Manhattan by J. Michael Straczynski, and Ozymandias/Crimson Corsair (mostly) by Len Wein. Anyway, this cover by Rafael Albuquerque is perfectly fine. It’s your typical homage to the blood-spattered yellow smiley face. Not bad — just not terribly original. Especially this late in the game.

So our final story begins with the Comedian being released from duty in Vietnam. Upon returning to America, he immediately puts down a gang called the Rat Pack with extreme violence. Nite Owl and Rorschach were upset, as the Comedian upended their weeks-long investigation. So the Comedian lashes out at his fellow heroes, calling Nite Owl gutless and Rorschach the dark image of their future.

Eddie then meets with one of his former CIA contacts, Gordy, whom Eddie blames for John F. Kennedy’s assassination. Despite that, Eddie listens to Gordy’s warning that the CIA is planning to kill John’s brother, Robert. Gordy found this out while working on Richard Nixon’s campaign. And although Nixon is quite ruthless, he actually doesn’t want his opponent to be killed, as he feels RFK’s death would make a martyr for the anti-war crowd to rally behind. As Gordy leaves Eddie with the file, Eddie notes that in the right light, Gordy could be mistaken for him.

Later, Robert visits Eddie in his hotel room, revealing that he’s learn of the brutal massacre in Vietnam. Although it breaks Robert’s heart, he believes he must do the right thing and reveal this atrocity to the American public. Surprisingly, Eddie offers to stand beside Robert in his speech and confess to his war crimes. We then cut to Robert’s speech, which oddly doesn’t include the planned confession. For some reason, that crucial part was scheduled for a second speech to be held shortly after this first one. And in the interim, Robert and his crew had to cut through the hotel’s kitchen.

It’s only at this moment that Eddie reveals to Robert the CIA’s plan to use a brainwashed assassin to attack him. Right on cue, the shooter opens fire. Eddie pulls his old friend down to the ground, effectively saving him. But then Eddie surreptitiously pulls out his own gun and shoots Robert point-blank in the back of the head. And the issue ends with Eddie sneaking back into his car, where he sadly smashes his head against his steering wheel until a drop of blood perfectly adorns his smiley face button.

This is that strange instance where I liked the issue by itself, but didn’t like the story as a whole. Yeah, the Rorschach/Nite Owl cameo was completely perfunctory, but the heart of the issue focusing on Eddie’s relationship with Robert was done really well. And it’s fun to speculate on why, exactly, Eddie killed his old friend. I think the biggest reason was to avoid any accountability for his war crimes. But the anti-war angle can’t be overlooked, either. Of course, we know in this universe that Nixon’s prediction was wrong. RFK did not become a martyr and Nixon was able to brutally resolve the Vietnam conflict with Dr. Manhattan. But did Eddie know that would happen? Or did he even want it? We’ll never know, and it’s kind of intriguing that way.

But what didn’t like was that this “twist” was what Brian Azzarello had been so agonizingly building up to across six meandering and often-delayed issues. So in Allan Moore’s Watchmen, Eddie jokes that he may have been the one who killed JFK. And in Zack Snyder’s film, he clearly showed that the Comedian was, indeed, the assassin. But then Azzarello began this miniseries by throwing a wrench in all that by having the Comedian battle Moloch while JFK was shot. And apparently Azzarello only did that just so he can say, “Aha! The Comedian ACTUALLY shot RFK — not JFK!” And then he threw in a really stupid wrinkle by showing that a sketchy former CIA operative looks just like Eddie Blake — a detail that only seems to matter for the film audience of Snyder’s Watchmen. Now fans of the film can believe (if they choose to) that Snyder wasn’t showing the Comedian killing JFK, but just a guy who looks like him. I feel like I’m going crazy typing all that up, but that’s really the only reason I can think of for presenting the story like this.

In conclusion, this series was a perfect microcosm for Before Watchmen as a whole. Much longer than it needed to be, full of gorgeous artwork, entertaining a few interesting ideas, but mostly missing some great opportunities. Did this whole even tarnish the work of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons? Perhaps. But I don’t think it did as much damage as Zack Snyder’s film did. Of course, at the end of the day, works like this ultimately do inspire more readers to check out the original, which is a good thing. And that’s what I’ll be doing next in my never-ending review of this famous graphic novel and all its various adaptations.

1978: Say hello (and goodbye) to the Utah Prospectors

Three years after the Utah Stars collapsed, professional basketball returned to Salt Lake City … sort of. What we have here is (from what I can tell) the first minor league basketball team in Utah. And a team that I had never heard of previously, until I began this research project. I think it’s still an important part of the story of pro basketball in Utah, but since it was minor league, I won’t go into as much detail as I normally do.

In the summer of 1978, seeking to fill the void left by the ABA, a group of businessmen formed a new league called the Western Basketball Association. The WBA had seven teams, all based in the Mountain and Pacific time zones. They planned a 60-game schedule following NBA rules with the exception of the added 3-point line and a no-foul-out rule. Their rosters were 11 players deep, but only nine players were allowed to travel to away games. In this era of gasoline shortages, the WBA was very worried about travel costs! There was also talk of the WBA using red-white-and-blue basketballs like the ABA, but they ran out of time and had to play the season with ordinary brown balls.

Four local businessmen owned the Salt Lake franchise, most notably Frank Nelson (a former Utah Stars executive who would serve as this team’s president and general manager) and Bill Maxwell (this franchise’s vice president, who represented them at all the WBA meetings). Shortly before the team’s first press conference on August 25, 1978, these owners named their team the Utah Prospectors. I understand why they avoided the names Stars and Rockies, but I’m not the biggest fan of their choice. Yeah, I guess the state of Utah had its fair share of prospectors during its early development years, but no more than Colorado, Oregon, or California. What makes Utah unique is its history of Mormon pioneers. I know Pioneers isn’t a terribly exciting name, but it is more distinctly Utahn than Prospectors.

Of course, the funniest thing about this team name was how they insisted on being called the Pros, as you can see from their poor excuse of a logo. This bugs me for two reasons. One, abbreviating the word Prospectors gives you a “praw” sound, not a “proh” sound like from Professionals. Two, this nickname had quite recently been used by an ABA team — the Memphis Pros. I suspect that may have been slightly intentional, though, to trick some casual fans. The WBA team based in Fresno chose the name Stars, so whenever the Stars and Pros played, some people may have assumed they were going to an ABA game.

The Utah Prospectors used the same colors as the Utah Stars (red, white, and blue) and they occasionally featured a crudely drawn prospector, as seen here in this newspaper advertisement. We also see that their head coach was Dick Nemelka, who was somewhat of a local legend.

Nemelka was born and raised in Salt Lake City, playing at West High School (which was right next door to my old work, the Deseret News). He attended BYU, where he was a 6-foot-0 guard named to the All-WAC First Team in 1966 before being drafted by the St. Louis Hawks in the fifth round. But Nemelka didn’t make the team, so he decided to serve a two-year mission in New Zealand. Once he completed that, he returned to BYU to get his master’s degree in law. But when the Los Angeles Stars moved to Utah in 1970, Nemelka decided to try out for the team and managed to fulfill his dream of becoming a professional basketball player. He only lasted one season, but he did average 5.5 points per game while helping the Stars win their only championship.

Nemelka was working as an attorney when the Prospectors called him. He bragged to the papers that even though the Pros were paying him as much as a typical college basketball coach, he would only have to work this job at night, while he maintained his law practice in the morning. That should have been a huge warning sign for this fledgling league. I mean, if you’re going to pay your coaches a college salary, I think you should expect a college coach’s level of commitment!

Nemelka chose an old teammate as his assistant, Jeff Congdon. He was Nemelka’s backcourt running mate at BYU, and he managed to have a five-year ABA career, starting with our lovable Anaheim Amigos. He averaged 8.8 points per game, but was traded to Denver after just 23 games. He was traded to Utah in 1970 and put up 7.7 ppg, but was sent to New York after 38 games, thus depriving him of that championship ring.

Naturally, Nelson filled the Prospectors’ roster with as many local players as possible. From the University of Utah, he had Buster Matheney and Doug Terry; from BYU, Jay Cheesman; and from Weber State, Jimmie Watts. Unfortunately, this crew was not particularly successful. In fact, the owners even tried to fire Nemelka in January 1979, but Maxwell stood up for him. The Pros also failed to generate much interest in the local community. In their first home game, the official announced attendance was just over 4,000, but the local reporters performed their own head count from press row and could only come up with 3,000. There were also stories about a general lack of professionalism about the team, including instances of players abruptly leaving in the middle of games. Another thing going against the Pros was their lack of Saturday games. Apparently the Salt Palace decided to give all those coveted dates to the Salt Lake Golden Eagles and other events, leaving the WBA as a weeknight-only event.

Even more unfortunate was the lack of success for the WBA as a whole. Since the Salt Palace was the league’s largest venue, they scheduled their first All-Star game there for January. But financial constraints forced them to cancel. The league officials had also hoped to expand to 10 teams after the first season, but quickly realized that would be an impossibility, especially with the collapse of their premiere franchise in Salt Lake. After winning just 19 games and accumulating a loss of $250,000, the Prospectors were forced to shut down on May 2, 1979. Of course, a major factor in this was the arrival of an NBA team to Utah, but we’ll talk more about that next post.

Nemelka continued his work as an attorney, and I wonder how good he was at his job, because he was officially reprimanded by the ethics committee at least three times. In 2020, he died at the age of 76 from cancer. Congdon, meanwhile, went on to become the head coach of the CBA’s Alberta Dusters, but he was fired after putting up a 3-16 record. And speaking of the CBA, they had hoped to merge with the WBA, but the collapse of the Pros led to a domino effect throughout the young league and all of its seven teams were forced to cease operations after just one season.

So it wasn’t quite the return of professional basketball that the people of Utah wanted. But it did serve as an interesting stopgap until the exciting news of 1979. Meanwhile, down in New Orleans …

Lewis Schaffel became the new general manager of the New Orleans Jazz, replacing the disgraced Barry Mendelson. As you may recall, Mendelson was a former agent, who severely overpaid for the services of one of his old clients, Gail Goodrich. Apparently, New Orleans didn’t learn their lesson, as they brought in another former agent. At just 33 years old, Schaffel had worked as a lawyer and represented 30 players and five general managers before taking the Jazz job. Fortunately, he didn’t have to give up as much as Mendelson had to bring in one of his former clients. Unfortunately, Schaffel also provoked the ire of the face of the franchise.

Pete Maravich was understandably incensed when he learned that Schaffel had tried to trade him. In Schaffel’s defense, Pistol Pete was somewhat of a liability for the Jazz. He was constantly injured, thanks in part to his poor conditioning habits (Maravich was a heavy drinker and allegedly showed up to some games inebriated), plus he was frequently becoming more of a distraction off the court with his frequent switching of religions and weird talk about aliens and other conspiracy theories. And although he was an All-NBA First-Teamer, Maravich never won very many games or sold many tickets (the cavernous Louisiana Superdome was more empty than not for Jazz games).

Still, Maravich lashed out at Schaffel, accusing him of being a backstabber, not knowing anything about basketball, and suggesting that the general manager take a vacation to war-torn Iraq. Fortunately for the Jazz, this anger focused Maravich like never before. He began playing the best basketball of his career, leading New Orleans to a nine-game winning streak, during which he averaged 29.9 points, 9.1 assists, and 5.1 rebounds per game. This culminated in a blowout win over Buffalo, where Maravich had 26 points, 15 assists and five rebounds. According to legend, coach Elgin Baylor neglected to rest his starters in the waning minutes, despite holding onto a commanding 20-point lead. And Maravich attempted a complicated half-court, between-the-legs pass, which caused him to twist his body in an unnatural way and collapse to the ground in tremendous pain.

Maravich finished the 1977-78 season with 27.0 points, 6.7 assists, and 2.0 steals per game. He returned to the All-Star Game and earned a spot on the All-NBA Second Team. But that injury suffered in Buffalo limited him to just 50 games on the season. And it sadly seems to have permanently altered his career.

Truck Robinson was Schaffel’s former client, who became this season’s biggest acquisition. Leonard Robinson was born and raised in Jacksonville, Florida, and played at Tennessee State. Standing at just 6-7, Robinson earned the nickname Truck because of his solid, strong frame and physical play. In 1974, he was drafted in the second round by the Bullets, and had a pretty quiet rookie season. He improved enough in his sophomore campaign to actually receive one MVP vote, which may not have been entirely justified, but it still is a sign of his improvement.

The Bullets traded Robinson to the Hawks at the 1977 trade deadline, and although he put up big numbers in Atlanta, he apparently wasn’t too happy there. Or perhaps his old agent just made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. In any case, Robinson signed with New Orleans in the 1977 offseason, forcing the Jazz to send some cash and an under-performing power forward named Ron Behagen to the Hawks as compensation.

Truck was an instant success in New Orleans. He played all 82 games, averaging a league-high 44.4 minutes per game. He also put up 22.7 points, an NBA-high 15.7 rebounds, and 1.0 block per game. He joined Maravich in the All-Star Game, became the second Jazzman in history to reach the All-NBA First Team, and he finished eighth in MVP voting. Lewis Schaffel couldn’t have asked for a better return.

Gail Goodrich, the biggest disappointment of last season, had a somewhat bounce-back year. He managed to appear in 81 games, averaging 16.1 ppg and 1.0 spg. Still, I can’t help but feel like Jazz fans were hoping for more from him, given his large salary and Maravich’s injury.

Aaron James received a lot more playing time after former Utah State Aggie Nate Williams was traded away to Golden State in January 1978 for a future second-round pick. James, the first-ever draft pick in franchise history, responded to the increased minutes with a career high 12.2 ppg and 5.3 rpg.

Rich Kelley, the team’s first-ever first-round pick, finally found himself in the position as New Orleans’ undisputed top center. He averaged 10.2 ppg, 9.3 rpg, 1.6 bpg, and 1.1 spg, while appearing in all 82 games.

So that basically wraps up the Jazz starting lineup, which honestly wasn’t half-bad. I mean, it’s not every year you get two All-Stars on your team. Unfortunately, Maravich went down right when this team had reached its full potential. That nine-game winning streak (which turned to a 10-game streak after Pistol’s injury) lifted the Jazz above .500. But then they slid back down into the doldrums without their star. They finished at 39-43, which was the best record in the team’s short history, but it still wasn’t good enough to earn a spot in the playoffs.

The Jazz earned the eighth pick in the 1978 draft, but New Orleans had to swap picks with the Lakers this year because of the Gail Goodrich signing. This left the Jazz with the 16th pick, which they traded to Atlanta for Joe Meriweather. The Lakers ended up trading the eighth pick to Boston, who used it on Freeman Williams. Coincidentally, he eventually made his way over to the Jazz in a fascinating transaction that I’ll be getting to eventually. Atlanta used the 16th pick on Jack Givens, who only lasted two years in the NBA.

Luckily, the Jazz did still have one first-round pick in this draft, which they received from Golden State as compensation for signing E.C. Coleman. This turned out to be the 11th pick, which New Orleans used on a big man from San Francisco.

James Hardy was born in Alabama, but grew up in Long Beach, California. Standing at 6-foot-8, Hardy averaged 13.4 ppg and 9.7 rpg for the University of San Francisco. And as you can see from the above photo, Hardy did actually play for the Jazz. But we’ll get more into that later.

We’ll conclude this post with one last front office shakeup for the New Orleans Jazz. By the time the 1978 offseason hit, things were looking really bleak. The original group of nine owners had dwindled down to three, as the entire enterprise had thus far only proven to be a colossal waste of money. Rumors of a relocation had begun to swirl. And, despite his success with Truck Robinson, Lewis Schaffel’s public feud with Pete Maravich had been an unacceptable distraction. So the Jazz went with their fourth general manager in four years.

Tom Willingham was a Baton Rouge businessman, who ran the Jazz marketing department. I couldn’t find much information about him, other than a public decrying of the situation with the Superdome. And I do agree that the venue was far too large and awkward for basketball games, but I don’t buy the complaint about people not buying season tickets because they always knew they could find a seat on the day of the game. I mean, if that was a problem, then just close off sections of the arena. Anyway, Willingham was mostly anonymous during his brief tenure as Jazz general manager, which is both good and bad. Good because he wasn’t receiving negative publicity like Schaffel. But bad because he didn’t make any big moves.

Of course, we all know that the biggest, most consequential move of this franchise will come in my next post. I can hardly wait! See you soon!