A brief history of pro basketball in Utah: 1967

The history of professional basketball in Utah is a fascinating and hilarious one. And it all begins with the ambition — and ineptitude — of this man, Art Kim.

Art Kim was a Korean-American from Maui, Hawaii, who made a name for himself by organizing basketball games for the servicemen stationed in Hawaii during World War II. In 1946, he began working with Abe Saperstein, owner of the Harlem Globetrotters. Kim’s job was to manage the opponents the Globetrotters would beat, fake teams like the Washington Generals. Apparently he was quite good at that job, as his partnership with Saperstein continued through 1961, when Kim was granted control of one of the franchises in Saperstein’s newly formed American Basketball League. Based in Honolulu, Kim wanted to name his team the Hawaii Aliis, but was persuaded by the locals to reserve that name for Hawaiian royalty and he went with the Chiefs instead.

It turns out that running a team that’s designed to lose is very different from running a team that’s trying to win. After just one season, Kim was forced to relocate his team to California, where they became the Long Beach Chiefs. Of course, it’s hard to tell how much of this was Kim’s fault, as the entire ABL folded on December 31, 1962. While Saperstein’s dream may have failed, his league did help popularize the 3-point shot, which Kim was also apparently an early proponent of.

A few years later, Kim’s connections brought him in on the ground floor of the American Basketball Association, which officially was formed on February 2, 1967. One of the founders of the ABA, Dennis Murphy, came quite close to bringing a professional football team to Anaheim, California, so it came as no surprise that this new league would prioritize that location. As Kim was one of the only new franchise owners with previous basketball experience, he was given a little bit of special treatment. Of course, he still had to come up with the $30,000 entry fee, which he was unable to pay himself. James Ackerman made up the difference and as I far as I can tell, he was only a silent partner. For all intents and purposes, this ABA franchise in Anaheim was Kim’s team.

On a side note that also loosely connects to Utah, Kim wasn’t the only person the ABA played favorites with. The league was so desperate to beat the NBA to New Orleans that they allowed a group of seven investors to join for just $1,000, instead of the usual $30,000. And that was how the New Orleans Buccaneers were created. But I’m focusing mainly on Kim’s team, which came to be known as the Anaheim Amigos.

For some reason, I just feel like this name and logo is in poor taste. In any case, it doesn’t feel like a particularly strong team name to rally behind. But one thing the Amigos did have going for them was their own arena … sort of. The Anaheim Convention Center opened across the street from Disneyland on July 12, 1967, to cater to the growing demand for business conferences and trade shows near the Happiest Place on Earth. I don’t know if the Amigos chose the colors orange and black to match the convention center’s signage or if it was the other way around, but either way, I think it was kind of neat that their colors were coordinated.

Unfortunately for the Amigos, the demand for the convention center was quite high. And its officials quickly learned that it was much more profitable to host just about anything else than Amigo games. Although they provided more than 7,000 seats, the Amigos rarely used more than a thousand of them each game. So the center didn’t give the Amigos any priority on the schedule. This forced Kim to arrange a handful of “home” games in random California cities like Fullerton, Fresno, and Los Angeles. 

Of course, at the start of the season, Kim actually wanted to play more road games. Since the ABA split the gate revenue for each game between the home and away team, Kim arranged for the Amigos to play in as many season openers as possible. He surmised (correctly) that each team’s debut game would draw bigger crowds than they would the rest of the year. And in what I can only call a bit of favoritism, the ABA allowed the Amigos to begin their season with six straight road games, including the league’s first-ever game, before finally debuting in Anaheim. The Amigos went 1-5 on this season-opening road trip.

At the end of the day, I think Kim’s biggest problem was his inability to put together a competent basketball team. The ABA did hold a 10-round draft before the season began, but for various reasons, none of those rookies ended up playing for Anaheim (some went to the NBA, some decided to stay in college another year, and so on). That left Kim with a less-than-desirable roster, which I will go into more detail next time. For this entry, I want to focus on the coaches.

For head coach, Kim went with a familiar name, Al Brightman, who was the last coach of the Long Beach Chiefs. Brightman, a native of Long Beach, was named California Mr. Basketball in 1941. At the age of 17, he played as catcher for the Cleveland Indians organization, before a shoulder injury ended his short-lived baseball career. He played basketball at Morris Harvey College in Charleston, South Carolina, and joined the Boston Celtics for their inaugural season in 1946 with the Basketball Association of America. Brightman even became the first player in Celtics history to score more than 20 points in a game, but he decided to leave the team after just one season and relocate to Seattle to be closer to his wife’s family. He allegedly had been on his way driving back to Boston but realized his wallet had been stolen in Idaho, so he turned around and went back to Seattle.

Brightman ended up joining the Seattle Athletics of the Pacific Coast Professional Basketball League, where he served as a player-coach until that league folded in 1948. He was quickly hired as the head coach of the Seattle University basketball team, where he flourished. He led the Chieftains to the postseason five times in his eight seasons, and had five losses or fewer three times. But just when Brightman seemed destined to become the next great coach of his generation, disaster struck. During an NCAA Tournament game against UCLA in 1956, Brightman nearly got into a fight with Bruins’ head coach John Wooden. Seattle lost by 24 points and Brightman abruptly resigned three days later from his positions as basketball and baseball coach.

Years later, it was revealed that Seattle had politely asked Brightman to resign under his own accord before they fired him. There is some speculation that he had been drunk during that fateful game against UCLA. In any case, the rest of his career paints a picture of a disgraced coach, who struggled to keep a full-time job. In 1961, he coached the NBL’s San Francisco Saints for one season, before working for Art Kim and the Long Beach Chiefs. After the NBL folded, Brightman returned to coaching high school basketball until Kim called his number in 1967. But this reunion didn’t last long. Kim fired Brightman after he put up a 12-24 record. And Brightman never coached basketball again, choosing to manage properties until he died of cancer in 1992 at age 68.

Brightman apparently didn’t have any assistant coaches in Anaheim (that team photo only shows one trainer with the coach), so Kim decided to pick one of his players to be the new coach. And that lucky guy was Harry Dinnel.

Dinnel was a Southern California native who put together a rather impressive career at Pepperdine, being named Co-West Coast Conference Player of the Year in 1962 and reaching the All-WCC First Team in 1963. He was drafted in the eighth round by the San Francisco Warriors but never played in the NBA. In fact, it appears that he didn’t play any professional basketball until he signed with the Amigos in 1967. He only appeared in 11 games as a player, putting up a paltry 1.7 points and 2.1 rebounds per game. Rather than becoming a player-coach, he retired as a player before replacing Brightman. Unfortunately, he was unable to turn around the Amigos’ fortunes, as he compiled a 13-29 record before his professional coaching career came to an end. Dinnel then became the basketball coach at Redondo High School, where he stayed for 34 years. He died in 2017 at 76 years old.

Well, that was probably more detail than anyone wanted, but I find it fascinating. All these little stories add up to the big story of Utah gaining a professional basketball team. And speaking of Utah …

Ground was broken for the Salt Palace on March 10, 1967. The $17 million arena was constructed as part of a bid for the 1972 Winter Olympics. And the name was inspired by the original Salt Palace, a turn-of-the-century dance hall that plastered real salt on the outside walls to gleam in the sunlight and burned down in 1910. Salt Lake City lost the ‘72 Olympics to Sapporo, Japan, but this new 10,000-seat venue would eventually land a rather intriguing consolation prize.

Before Watchmen: Going through the motions

This cover is a typical example of Jae Lee’s work. Artistic, clean, posed interestingly, yet also hampered by a strange “scrunchiness” and disconnect with the story. I’ve always been curious about Adrian’s beloved cat, Bubastis, but this issue does not feature her — which makes this cover a bit disappointing to me.

The variant cover by Mike Kaluta is fantastic. Beautiful, yet haunting. Poetic and ominous. I’ll admit I don’t fully understand it, though — probably because it also doesn’t seem to bear any connection to the inside story.

Of course, it’s hard to blame the covers for not being connected to a story like this, where nothing happens at all. It’s really unfortunate coming off the rushed ending of Silk Spectre and the rushed opening of Moloch, only to see a bland placeholder issue from Len Wein. He was given six issues for an Ozymandias story, but apparently he only needed four. This is the comic book equivalent of a high schooler desperately trying to stretch their two-page essay to the required five pages.

Wein rapidly advances through a few years of Adrian’s life, doing absolutely nothing of any particular interest. Adrian admits that he lacked the passion for being a superhero like his counterparts, but he kept going through the motions mostly out of boredom. He was happy to form a close relationship with John F. Kennedy, but was dismayed when he saw the Comedian had an even more intimate relationship with the Kennedy family. Adrian was also surprised when JFK deduced his secret identity, but he was more than happy to resolve the Cuban Missile Crisis, advising the president that Dr. Manhattan was far too powerful to ever be used in a political conflict.

Adrian was shocked by Kennedy’s assassination, and dismayed to discover that there was no grand plot beyond Lee Harvey Oswald. His inability to foresee this starts to put his reputation as the “world’s smartest man” into question, but Wein was not interested in reflecting on that. What he was interested in, apparently, was recreating the entire Crimebusters scene word-for-word as Alan Moore originally told it. I saw absolutely no need for this beyond a frantic need to eat up some pages. And the end of the issue was a bland detail that should have been painfully obvious from Moore’s old work. As Captain Metropolis whimpers that someone’s got to save the world, Adrian decided that he should be that someone. Duh! We already knew that!

Before Watchmen created the opportunity for comics creators to explore new avenues and fresh angles of the characters and world created by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. Sometimes we got lucky and were given a unique, interesting story. But far too often, this project only produced dull, repetitive nonsense that made this whole endeavor feel more like a cheap cash grab than anything else. This issue is one of the prime examples of the very worst Before Watchmen has to offer.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1979

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future. And at long last, my journey has come to its end.

June 25, 1979 – Plaza Hotel, New York City

Previous season:

The Utah Jazz were officially born on June 8, 1979, when Sam Battistone Jr. completed the relocation of the New Orleans Jazz to Salt Lake City. Although he kept the same name and uniforms, and he left the roster mostly intact, he did seek a fresh start in management. Replacing Elgin Baylor at head coach was Tom Nissalke, who had won Coach of the Year with the Houston Rockets in 1977. Atlanta Hawks assistant coach Frank Layden also sought out Utah’s coaching role, but Battistone made him the general manger to replace Tom Willingham.

The New Orleans Jazz had struggled from Day One, and nothing had improved by their fifth and final season in Louisiana. With All-Star Pete Maravich limited to just 49 games, the Jazz limped to a 26-56 record, which earned them the right to the coin flip with the Chicago Bulls for the No. 1 pick in the 1979 Draft. For the first — and so far only — time in franchise history, the Jazz won the top pick. Unfortunately, it belonged to the Los Angeles Lakers thanks to a major mistake the Jazz made back in 1976. New Orleans decided to sign All-Star Gail Goodrich to a large contract, even though he was already past his prime. And back then, the NBA really hated the idea of free agency, so they had a punitive rule in place that forced teams to deliver some form of compensation to the free agent’s old team. New Orleans’ unprotected 1979 first-round pick was included in the compensation package to the Lakers, who then used it to draft Magic Johnson, forever altering the landscape of the NBA.

The draft:

Although the Jazz lost out on the top pick, they did own the 20th thanks to a trade that sent Truck Robinson to Phoenix. So with the first draft pick in Utah Jazz history, Frank Layden selected Larry Knight, a forward from Loyola Chicago.

In the second round, Utah used the 23rd pick on a guard from Georgia Tech named Tico Brown.

And the draft lasted eight more rounds after this, but none of those picks were consequential.

Analysis:

The new Utah Jazz front office had no time to prepare for this draft and it showed. Frank Layden apparently did no scouting on Larry Knight and drafted him simply because he averaged 13 rebounds per game in college. But Layden failed to take into account the mediocre level of competition Knight faced at his small school or how his slight 6-foot-8 frame would translate to the professional game. Tom Nissalke hated Knight’s game right away and cut him before the season began.

Tico Brown also failed to make the Jazz roster, and both Brown and Knight never saw action on an NBA court. All in all, this was absolute worst outcome in this draft for the Utah Jazz. Not only did they miss out on Magic Johnson, but their top two picks never even became NBA players. The best my interference could do would be to give the Jazz Bill Laimbeer, who was a four-time All-Star with Detroit.

My advice:

1. Use the 20th pick on Bill Laimbeer.

2. Who cares?

I know full well that Bill Laimbeer is a poor consolation prize for Magic Johnson. But it was the best I could do. And I honestly don’t care anymore. It was a fun ride while it lasted, now I close my eyes and allow the witch’s curse to return me to the present, where I am but a lowly fan, praying for the Jazz to hit it big in the draft.

Before Watchmen: A villainous diversion

DC’s Before Watchmen was announced in February 2012. In August, they announced an addition to the project, a two-issue miniseries focused on the villain Moloch. Apparently this whole gamble was paying off quite well and the company quickly sought a way to expand it. I was quite eager to read Moloch’s backstory — as opposed to the rest of the main cast, he’s actually a character we know very little about. I think there’s much more potential in a Moloch story than Silk Spectre or Nite Owl. Unfortunately, DC decided to only devote two issues to this tale. And even more unfortunate was their choice to had this story to J. Michael Straczynski. He has surprised me from time to time, but more often than not, he just lets me down.

But what’s not letting me down is this amazing cover by Eduardo Risso. It is ominous and haunting, giving me my first glimpse of what a threatening figure Moloch could have been. It’s definitely one of my five favorite covers from Before Watchmen and definitely ranks fairly high on my list of favorite comic book covers in general. I just wish Risso’s interior art matched this level of detail and intensity. I wouldn’t call it bad art, per se, but maybe rushed?

This variant cover by Matt Wagner and Brennan Wagner is nothing special. In fact, I find it rather cheesy. I prefer mystery over on-the-nose symbolism. However, symbolism does have its place, when done well. Like with the third variant cover.

I am absolutely floored by this Jim Lee and Alex Sinclair cover. I hated all of Lee’s variants for the main Before Watchmen series. He had all the characters blandly posing in a police lineup, muscled up and glamorized to extreme levels that flew in the face of what I believe Alan Moore had intended. But this! This is something unique and captivating! It’s not just a generic pose — it ties in beautifully with the inside story. And I actually do enjoy the Pietà pose here. While Moloch technically doesn’t die in this story, his innocence does. I’m really glad that Lee pushed himself to do some storytelling with this cover.

But how good was Straczynski’s storytelling? Well … a bit of a letdown. This issue details the childhood of Edgar Jacobi, who was born with a deformed face and ears. Because of his grotesque appearance, his parents never truly loved him, only providing him with the bare minimum of support. Craving attention, Edgar trained to be a stage magician. His acts caught the eye of a pretty girl who promised to have sex with him. But then Edgar discovered she already had a boyfriend and was playing a cruel joke on Edgar. So he killed the boyfriend and somehow smuggled his dead body into the girl’s bed without waking her up. This Godfather-esque experience apparently traumatized the girl and forced her to be institutionalized, while Edgar ran away from home and became a traveling magician under the name of Moloch the Mystic.

Edgar told everyone he took the name from the ancient Ammonite god who was known for his supernatural powers. But he really chose the name because Moloch was known for child sacrifice, and he considered his first kill to be a sacrifice for his new life. He turned out to be a fairly poor magician, which forced him into a life of crime. But his meager magician skills made him a very successful criminal, one that attracted the attention of the Minutemen. However, he was always able to escape prison no matter how many times they locked him up.

Moloch’s outlook on life changed when he first encountered Dr. Manhattan. He realized this was a foe he would never be able to defeat. While serving a life sentence in prison, Moloch converted to Christianity and began praying for forgiveness. To his surprise, he was granted parole, only to find Ozymandias waiting for him outside the prison.

I feel like there was a lot of wasted potential with this story. Straczynski gave us a rather by-the-numbers tragic origin tale without taking any time to show us why Moloch was the most prominent “super villain” in the Watchmen universe. But mostly I wanted more interactions with the Comedian. I think it was a big deal that Eddie Blake chose to visit Moloch instead of anyone else after he learned Ozymandias’ plan. Now, I haven’t read the second issue of this series yet, so maybe I’ll get my wish. I don’t have high hopes, though, because one, I know this writer, and two, this miniseries just isn’t long enough to do what I want it to do.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1980

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 10, 1980 – Sheraton Centre Hotel & Towers, New York City

Previous season:

The 1979-80 season was this franchise’s first full season in Salt Lake City as the Utah Jazz. And boy, was it a doozy! General manager Frank Layden desperately tried to spice things up in the hectic 1979 offseason by trading a couple of veteran big men for young, high-scoring forwards. The first trade ended up being one of the best in Jazz history, as Utah sent the aging Spencer Haywood to the Lakers for Adrian Dantley. This immediately paid off for the Jazz, as Dantley made the first of six eventual All-Star appearances in an Utah uniform. Layden’s second big trade was to send Rich Kelley to New Jersey for Bernard King. This, unfortunately, turned out to be a disaster. King was arrested for sexual assault and cocaine possession. His alcoholism required a lengthy stay in rehab, which limited him to just 19 games with the Jazz. Utah was able to eventually trade him away to Golden State for big man Wayne Cooper, but he only gave the Jazz one mediocre season. King eventually did get his life together enough to put together a stretch of incredible basketball … but it wasn’t with the Jazz.

Layden had envisioned forming a Big Three with Dantley, King, and All-Star veteran Pete Maravich. Each of them would end up leading the NBA in scoring at different points in their careers, and it would have been fascinating to see if Layden’s all-offensive experiment could have worked. But in addition to King’s absence, Maravich’s injuries limited him to just 17 games. Unlike King, Maravich was on his last legs, and Utah couldn’t find anyone to trade for him. So they waived him in January 1980 and he quickly signed with the Boston Celtics before retiring at the end of the season. So with Dantley as the lone bright spot, the Jazz struggled to a 24-58 record.

The draft:

Back in these days, the NBA held a coin toss between the teams with the worst record in each conference for the No. 1 pick. Utah lost the coin toss to Detroit, but they owed the pick to Boston, who quickly traded it to Golden State for the third pick and Robert Parrish. The Warriors used the top pick on big man Joe Barry Carroll, while Utah used the second pick on a shooting guard from Louisville named Darrell Griffith.

The Jazz also owned the 19th pick thanks to a 1979 trade that sent Truck Robinson to Phoenix. With this pick, Utah selected point guard John Duren from Georgetown.

I don’t care about any of Utah’s other picks in this insanely long 10-round draft. Although I will point out that their fifth-round selection was a guy named Wally West, which I’m sure DC Comics fans will get a kick out of. Unfortunately, this Wally West didn’t play any games in the NBA.

Analysis:

The Darrell Griffith pick was a no-brainer for Utah. He was the best player on the NCAA national championship team and he filled an immediate need at shooting guard. (Let’s face it, the aging Ron Boone was nothing compared to Pistol Pete — even on his last legs.) Griffith was named Rookie of the Year and participated in two dunk contests. He also led the NBA in 3-pointers in two seasons before he broke his foot in 1985. He missed an entire season and was never the same after that, limping along for five more years, becoming exponentially less effective in each subsequent season. Nevertheless, he remained a fan favorite and deservedly had his jersey retired by the Jazz. But was he really the best pick for Utah?

The third pick in this draft was Kevin McHale. After resolving a contract dispute with the Celtics, he went on to have a legendary career in Boston, winning three championships and making seven All-Stars. He’s a member of the NBA’s 75th Anniversary Team and was the only player of this draft to reach the Hall of Fame. Even though Griffith was Rookie of the Year, he never made a single All-Star. McHale had the better career of the two — by far — but I still hesitate slightly to make this switch. Griffith filled a gaping hole in Utah’s backcourt. And McHale’s low-post scoring could have gotten in the way of Dantley’s low-post scoring. However, the Jazz were also pretty thin up front after dealing away Haywood and Kelley, and McHale’s rebounding and shot-blocking would have been much appreciated. At the end of the day, I think I want McHale more than Griffith (and Dantley, for that matter).

John Duren played sparingly in two seasons with the Jazz before being waived in 1982. Unfortunately, there aren’t any good guards left at No. 19. So I’ll recommend another big man, Jeff Ruland, who was a two-time All-Star with Washington. Even though he undoubtedly would have gotten in McHale’s way, I’m a firm believer of drafting the best player available. Ruland could be traded down the road for a good guard.

My advice:

1. Use the No. 2 pick on Kevin McHale.

2. Use the No. 19 pick on Jeff Ruland.

3. Don’t worry about the other picks.

Once again, I’m a little nervous that I’ve ruined my Jazz. But maybe not. Maybe I merely hastened the departure of Adrian Dantley, which would have saved Frank Layden and Larry Miller a lot of headaches down the road. And who’s to say that Darrell Griffith wouldn’t have thrived on those amazing Celtics teams? But I’ll never know, thanks to this witch’s curse. And I don’t know what lies in store for me moving forward, as I’ve now reached the beginning of the Utah Jazz. We’ll just have to wait and see!

Before Watchmen: Our first miniseries comes to an abrupt end

Since I’ve been reviewing these issues in the order they came out (and I took a long hiatus to pursue my master’s degree), it’s taken me quite a while to finally finish one of the many miniseries under the Before Watchmen umbrella. Amanda Conner and Paul Mounts provided us with the final Silk Spectre cover, and once again I’m not terribly impressed. It’s just a bit too vague and abstract for me. And those villains don’t mean much to me — they’ve really failed to make much of an impact over the past three issues.

The variant cover is by Bruce Timm, who was the creative force behind so many of the DC animated shows of my childhood. It’s kind of fun to see his style applied to the Watchmen universe, but it’s also a bit disconcerting. As a work of art by itself, I think it’s just … adequate.

Our story begins with Laurie sadly reading the farewell letter that the Comedian forced Greg to write. Of course, she has no way of suspecting Eddie Blake’s involvement in this affair, and instead reminisces to the multiple times her mom stood between her and boys. Meanwhile, Hollis Mason has gone into full cop mode by methodically tracking down Laurie in broad daylight. His efforts attract the attention of the Chairman, who actually gets so spooked, he decides to shut down his entire operation by having his two female assassins murder every single person involved in the scheme — even though his drugs were successfully brainwashing people to buy inordinate amounts of things they don’t need. I also think the amount of murders he’s committed would have only attracted more attention from the authorities, but the unnamed Chairman didn’t seem to care about that.

Hollis tracked down Laurie’s roommates just in time to be attacked by the Chairman’s women, but Hollis conveniently defeated them off page. When Laurie returns home, Hollis shows her that he tied up the two women, and she decides to take the fight directly to the Chairman. She gets into a brutal fight with him, finally gaining the upper hand by viciously driving the heel of her boot into his throat. As he staggers around out into the street, trying to remove the boot from his neck, Laurie picks up his gun and prepares to finish him off. It’s not entirely clear whether she actually pulls the trigger. And in the end, it doesn’t really matter, because the Chairman is hit by a bus right at that moment and reduced to a pile of blood and bones.

Laurie lets Hollis drive her home, where she more or less patches things up with her mom. The issue ends with Sally dropping Laurie off at the infamous Crimebusters meeting, where Laurie meets Dr. Manhattan for the first time and begins dreaming of dating him just to make her mom mad.

DC only gave Darwyn Cooke four issues to tell this story, but he really needed six. We needed more time to establish the threat of the bad guys — I had a hard time figuring out who was actually in charge, and it turned out to be a guy who didn’t even have a name! It felt really out of the blue for him to suddenly go around killing everyone who worked for him. The absence of Greg and the Comedian were really felt in this issue, and everything with Laurie’s arc felt rushed. But then again, I’m not sure if I needed more time exploring Laurie’s backstory. The main Watchmen series already gave us plenty about her. And even a great like Darwyn Cooke couldn’t add anything interesting or meaningful to her story.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1981

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 9, 1981 – Grand Hyatt Hotel, New York City

Previous season:

Only two players on the 1980-81 Utah Jazz roster had more than four years of experience (one of them was the immortal Ron Boone, who was quite ineffective in his 12th and final season). Head coach Tom Nissalke led this young, raw team to a mediocre 28-54 record. But there were a couple of bright spots. Darrell Griffith was named Rookie of the Year and Adrian Dantley led the NBA in points (30.1 per game) and minutes (42.7 per game), earning a spot in the All-Star Game, on the All-NBA Second Team, and finished 12th in MVP voting. The Jazz had another league-leader in a less flattering category — big man Ben Poquette committed an NBA-high 342 personal fouls.

The draft:

Utah’s record earned them the fifth pick in the 1981 NBA Draft. Unfortunately, in 1978, the New Orleans Jazz traded away this pick to Seattle for Slick Watts. The point guard led the league in assists and steals in 1976, but he was completely washed up just two years later. After just 39 games, the Jazz sent Watts to Houston for their 1981 first-round pick, which ended up being No. 13.

In desperate need of a big man, the Jazz used the 13th pick on Syracuse’s Danny Schayes, son of Hall of Famer Dolph Schayes.

In the second round, Utah used the 27th pick on a small forward from Tennessee named Howard Wood.

This draft lasted an accursed 10 rounds, but none of Utah’s other picks mattered. Only one of them actually played in any NBA games — eighth-rounder Bobby Cattage, who surprisingly made the Jazz roster and appeared in 49 games for Utah and 29 for New Jersey.

Analysis:

Schayes had a quiet rookie season, but became a starter as a sophomore, averaging a fairly respectable 12 points and nine rebounds per game. Surprisingly, he was dealt to Denver at the 1983 trade deadline for former Jazz veteran Rich Kelley and $300,000 in cash. General Manager Frank Layden talked up Kelley’s experience, revealing that Utah had nearly acquired him earlier as part of a proposed three-team deal that would have sent away Dantley. Layden backed out of that deal because he felt the other teams weren’t offering enough for Utah’s All-Star, but he was reportedly thrilled to find another way to acquire Kelley. However, Kelley didn’t contribute much during his second stint with the Jazz and he left for Sacramento in 1985. The best part of all this, though, was that it opened up room for Mark Eaton to develop into a Defensive Player of the Year and an All-Star.

And then there’s the money. Many people look on this trade with the view as the Dominique Wilkins trade. It’s true that in this era the Jazz were struggling financially. They played a handful of “home” games in Las Vegas to try to boost revenue and rumors constantly swirled about them relocating to Minneapolis or Miami. An extra $300,000 certainly helped keep the franchise a bit more stable, but I think winning more games would have helped more at the end of the day. So with that in mind, I recommend finding an upgrade to Schayes. Even though he enjoyed an 18-year career in the NBA, he was almost always a backup.

In my opinion, Larry Nance would have been a much better pick at this position. The All-Star, All-Defensive Team power forward could have made a powerful front court alongside Dantley and Eaton (assuming the Jazz still drafted him).

Utah’s second-round pick, Howard Wood, only lasted 42 games before being waived. Obviously we need to upgrade here. My choice is BYU’s Danny Ainge. I wonder if one reason he fell so far in the draft was because he was playing Major League Baseball for the Toronto Blue Jays at the time. But the Boston Celtics didn’t mind buying out his MLB contract, and Ainge became a major contributor on two of their championship teams and an All-Star. Even though Utah already had a budding back court with Griffith and Rickey Green, I think Ainge would have made a stellar backup for both of them. Later in his career, Ainge was runner-up to Sixth Man of the Year.

And then there’s Ainge’s stellar work as a general manager. True, he has been guiding the Jazz front office for the past few years, but maybe he would have started doing that a lot sooner had he been drafted by Utah instead of Boston.

My advice:

1. Use the 13th pick on Larry Nance.

2. Use the 27th pick on Danny Ainge.

3. Don’t worry about any of the other picks.

The Danny Schayes pick turned into some much-needed cash and a veteran backup for Mark Eaton. I realize I’m putting those things at risk by recommending Nance over Schayes, but I guess I value on-the-court production more than these alleged intangibles. Did I just doom the Jazz to be relocated to Minneapolis? Well, I’ll never know. Because as soon as that 10th round ends, the witch’s curse whisks me away back to 1980.

Before Watchmen: The boredom of bleakness

Darwyn Cooke’s work has definitely been a bright spot in this sprawling Before Watchmen series, and I’m always pleased to return to it. With this issue, he devoted the cover to Mothman, with a beautiful color palette but some oddly cartoony stars. Sadly, this issue doesn’t focus on Mothman nearly as much as I’d like, which kinds of makes this cover misleading.

The variant cover by Steve Rude and Glenn Whitmore is a fun, classic collage of the Minutemen. I really enjoy it … except for Captain Metropolis’ hands. Is he covering his ears? Just relaxingly placing his hands behind his head? It doesn’t read right.

Speaking of reading, this issue was not a particularly fun read for me. The tone was so bleak the whole time, it actually made me bored. And doing a recap will be a bit tricky considering how many flashbacks and jumping around through time this story does. I guess I’ll start at the beginning, which was in 1962, when Hollis Mason visiting the former Mothman, Byron Lewis. As usual, Hollis is preoccupied with making sure his former teammates are OK with the bestseller he has already published. But Byron is essentially a vegetable now, unable to do anything more than sit and watch the sun set.

We return to 1946, where the Comedian has returned triumphantly from his duty with the U.S. Army in

World War II. Hollis and Byron have set up a new secret lab for themselves in the sewer, which is where they learn of Silhouette’s brutal murder. The two of them had been secretly working with Silhouette after she had been voted out of the Minutemen for being a lesbian. And at the time of Ursula Zandt’s death, she had begun investigating a mysterious string of children being murdered.

Hollis and Byron buried Ursula next to her girlfriend, Gretchen, in unmarked graves, but Sally Jupiter secretly followed them to see where Ursula was buried. She apologizes to her former rival, feeling guilty for having voted to kick Silhouette out of the Minutemen. In fact, Sally felt so guilty, that she personally tracked down Ursula’s murderer and viciously killed him. She then told off Hooded Justice and Captain Metropolis for how they treated Silhouette and announced her retirement as Silk Spectre.

After Sally’s graveside confessional, she’s suddenly approached by Eddie Blake, who tells her a long depressing story about a corrupt general who killed a kindly woman after she saved Eddie’s life. Eddie retaliated by killing the general in his sleep, although he now thanks that man for “opening his mind.” Anyway, Eddie’s main point was that he understands Sally’s guilt and frustration — despite having avenged someone with a murder. And so these two are able to bond over that feeling.

Anyway, Hollis and Byron decide to continue Silhouette’s investigation — although Byron’s alcoholism begins to become a serious impediment. Hollis discovers a tape detailing the horrors Ursula and Gretchen endured under the Nazi regime. And the issue closes with Hooded Justice having a nightmare of his traumatic childhood. If that wasn’t bleak and depressing enough, there’s always the two pages of The Curse of the Crimson Corsair to haunt your dreams!

Maybe I just wasn’t in the right mood for this issue. But I found the amount of tragedy and despair overwhelming. As such, this was the first issue of the Minutemen miniseries that let me down. Hopefully I’ll find more enjoyment when I return to the Silk Spectre.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1982

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 29, 1982 – Madison Square Garden, New York City

Previous season:

The Utah Jazz were a young team in 1981-82 — their oldest player only had six years of experience — which meant their future was bright and full of hope. Adrian Dantley was an All-Star and finished 15th in MVP voting. He led the league in free throws, but also turnovers, unfortunately. Rickey Green and Darrell Griffith formed an intriguing backcourt, but nobody else on the roster showed much promise. After starting the season 5-2, the Jazz lost 10 of their next 13 games, leading to the abrupt firing of coach Tom Nissalke. General Manager Frank Layden was given double duties, but he didn't fare much better this year, and Utah finished at 25-57, which earned them the third pick of the 1982 Draft.

The draft:

National Player of the Year Ralph Sampson was widely regarded to be the No. 1 overall pick this year. But when he saw that the San Diego Clippers had a 50% chance of winning that pick, he decided to return to college for one more year. The Clippers ended up losing the coin flip with the Lakers, who had to "settle" on future Hall of Famer James Worthy. San Diego took Terry Cummings at No. 2, leaving Georgia small forward Dominique Wilkins to the Jazz at No. 3.

The Jazz didn't have a second-round pick due to a trade they made in 1979, but they did end up with two third-round picks after they traded former Ute Jeff Judkins to Detroit in 1981. With the 49th pick, Utah selected BYU big man Steve Trumbo. And they drafted Louisville point guard Jerry Eaves at No. 55.

In the fourth round, Utah took a chance on 26-year-old Mark Eaton from UCLA.

None of Utah's other picks played in the NBA, but here they are just for fun:

95. Mike McKay, UConn

118. Alvin Jackson, Southern University and A&M College

141. Thad Garner, Michigan

187. Riley Clarida, Long Island University

208. Michael Edwards, New Orleans

Analysis:

This is one of the most infamous drafts in Utah Jazz history. If you ask any Jazz fan, they'll most likely tell you the same story: Dominique Wilkins refused to play in Utah, but that was alright because the Jazz were able to sell his rights to Atlanta for $1 million, which the cash-strapped Jazz desperately needed to keep the team in Salt Lake. If you ask Wilkins today, he will readily admit that he didn't want to play for the Jazz, but he will diplomatically say it was only because Frank Layden wanted to play him as a power forward alongside Adrian Dantley. But what actually happened? To discover this, I spent an embarrassing amount of time combing through scanned newspapers from 1982. My efforts were rewarded, and I'm now able to put together a pretty clear picture of what people were thinking at the time.

First, let's examine Wilkins' story. Scroll back up and look at the picture of him shaking NBA Commissioner Larry O'Brien's hand on Draft Day. That is the face of an unhappy man. That is the same face Steve Francis made when he was drafted by the Vancouver Grizzlies. Reading the newspapers from 1982, it seemed like a pretty open secret that Wilkins did not want to go to Utah. With Ralph Sampson opting to return to college, this became a three-player draft with Wilkins firmly in the third position. Layden admitted that the Jazz received many offers for the pick before the draft and it actually would have been easier to have traded it before they picked Wilkins. 

In Wilkins' defense, Utah was not an ideal destination in 1982. Aside from the geographic and sociological challenges, the Utah Jazz franchise was on really shaky ground before Larry Miller took over the team. The Jazz frequently played "home" games in Las Vegas and owner Sam Battistone was constantly threatening to move the team to Minneapolis or even Toronto. So I understand Wilkins' hesitation there. But I don't understand his current story of not wanting to play power forward. First of all, Dantley was a small forward in name only. Despite his 6-5 height, he was actually a power forward for all intents and purposes. This was one of the main reasons why Utah traded him away after they drafted Karl Malone. But my second objection to Wilkins' story is that I can find no contemporary evidence to corroborate. None of the papers in 1982 even mentioned the difficulty of playing Wilkins alongside Dantley. There was some playful pondering of whether Wilkins would replace Darrell Griffith as the best dunker on the team, but that's it. On the day of the draft, the prevailing assumption was that the Jazz intended to play Wilkins because they didn't trade their pick before the draft.

Now what about the money? When Utah finally did send Wilkins to Atlanta in September, Battistone said that many teams offered to buy the rights to Wilkins, but he insisted on holding out for a deal that included quality players. Layden confirmed as much, saying the Jazz spent months negotiating with the Hawks and only agreed to the deal once two-time All-Star John Drew was included. The initial reporting hyped up the acquisition of both Drew and Freeman Williams, who had scored more points in college than anyone besides Pete Maravich at the time. The inclusion of $1 million in cash was treated as an afterthought.

I have no doubt that the money helped the Jazz a lot. But the narrative of that cash "saving" the Jazz appears to have been something that developed over time to justify the incredibly lopsided results of this trade. While Wilkins went on to become a perennial All-Star and MVP candidate, Drew and Williams failed to live up to the hype Layden bestowed on them. Drew missed 38 games in his first season in Utah due to an eight-week stint in drug rehab. He came back strong in his second season and was runner-up for Sixth Man of the Year. (Unlike with Wilkins, there was an actual conversation about whether Drew could play alongside Dantley, as they both had very similar games. Which is why Drew was forced to come off the bench.) Sadly, Drew relapsed in 1984 and was waived after just 19 games into his third Jazz season. He later earned the distinction of becoming the first player banned by David Stern for substance abuse.

Williams fared no better, playing in only 18 games before quietly being waived in December 1982. It was later revealed that he also struggled with substance abuse. Eerily, both Drew and Williams passed away in April 2022.

I wonder if this was a complete coincidence that both the players Atlanta sent to Utah were essentially "damaged goods." It stands to reason that the Hawks would have known better than anyone whether their players were struggling with an addiction. And this was also an era of "gentlemanly" coverups. People simply didn't talk about things like drug addiction or sex with underage girls unless it really became a big problem. Regardless of Atlanta's inside knowledge (or the lack thereof), this trade would have been a complete disaster for Utah had it not been for that $1 million in cash. And since everyone loved Layden so much, it makes sense that they all collectively decided to spin this blunder in a more positive light — even if said spin required some revisionist history.

Now how about the rest of the draft? Well, Steve Trumbo never played in the NBA and Jerry Eaves gave Utah two quiet seasons in a reserve role before he was waived to make room for John Stockton. But Mark Eaton was one of the most inspiring success stories in NBA history. This blog has already gone on long enough, so I'll restrain myself from telling you what you probably already know.

My advice:

Believe it or not, I'm going to advise the Jazz to do everything the same. I'm not sure the Dominique Wilkins trade was the best possible trade for Utah to make — but I can't really help with that, as the witch's curse contains me just to the night of the draft. At the end of the day, I believe teams should use the draft to select the best player available, even if he refuses to play for your team. Acquiring valuable assets is the name of the game for general managers. And Dominique Wilkins was by far the most valuable asset available at the No. 3 spot. And, of course, Mark Eaton was a beautiful diamond in the rough that Utah can't afford to miss.

Before Watchmen: Dr. Manhattan finally gets interesting!

It's been almost a year since I've touched this blog — but I have a good excuse! I decided to go back to school to get my master's degree, and once that all wrapped up, the limited time I had left to blog was dedicated to catching up on Impulse. It's almost like time is broken, as this issue implies. But first, the cover. This is a fun pulp-style comic by Adam Hughes, which is obviously a play on Dr. Manhattan and the Silk Spectre, and is actually a key part of the story inside. I know I've been gone a long time, but right now, I'm really finding this uniqueness quite refreshing.

The variant cover by P. Craig Russell does not bring that same level of refreshing uniqueness. It just leaves me feeling empty and bland inside. Much like the original interpretation of Dr. Manhattan by Alan Moore. The world's most powerful being was often the most dull character — never using his vast abilities to do anything interesting or explore new possibilities. A character like that works in an ensemble piece, like Watchmen, but it would be fatal for a solo series. Luckily, J. Michael Straczynski used this issue as an opportunity to do something interesting.

Dr. Manhattan has returned to the Gila Flats testing center at 1:15 p.m. on August 20, 1959, to witness the moment he should have been transformed from Jon Osterman to Dr. Manhattan. But this time — much to his astonishment — Jon avoids the accident and safely retrieves Janey Slater's watch. While Dr. Manhattan struggles to comprehend this paradox, Jon is intrigued by a minor mystery of his own: Janey's repaired watch is frozen at 1:15.

Later, Jon takes Janey back to the carnival where her watch was originally smashed. This time, Jon decides to play one of the games, while Janey oddly reminisces about a man named Hank Meadows. Despite being young and healthy, and having avoided smoking, drinking, and even working with the heavy radiation equipment, he suddenly died of cancer. Janey speculates that must have been God's will, because if Hank didn't die, then Jon wouldn't have been hired to replace him, and she would have never met Jon.

Just as she finishes that thought, Jon wins his carnival game and reveals an engagement ring hidden in his prize stuffed bear. Janey accepts Jon's proposal, and as the two of them walk away, the game operator says it's his job to provide the illusion of free will. All the while, Dr. Manhattan keeps watching in silent bewilderment, unseen by anyone else.

We skip ahead to the day of the wedding, where Jon's father is surprisingly there, helping his son get ready. The elder Osterman reveals that he had a dream a year ago where he was told Jon had died. The dream was so real that it took him days to get it out of his head. Jon assures his father that dream will never come true now that he's decided to move to Washington, D.C., to teach physics at Georgetown.

Jon heads down the hall toward his bride-to-be, encountering a small boy reading the comic book that was the cover for this issue. The boy says he wants to be a scientist like Jon so he can go to Mars and see the "blue people." According to his comic book, all the blue people had died off except for one remaining blue man. Jon doubts this is true, but he says the boy may one day get to go to Mars.

And then things get interesting. There are two doors at the end of the hall and Jon calls out to Janey, asking which one she's behind. She tells him to guess, and we see that Jon's seemingly innocuous choice creates vast differences in this world. When he opens the left door, John F. Kennedy taps the Comedian to resolve the Cuban Missile Crisis. But the Comedian's impatient, violent tendencies lead to the U.S. preemptively attacking Russia and launching a nuclear holocaust. But when Jon chooses the right door, Kennedy sent Ozymandias to negotiate with the Russians, and his diplomacy skills preserved the peace. The one constant in both of those realities was that Jon did get married to Janey, but was still unable to fix her watch.

We cut back to Jon opening the door to find Janey putting on the finishing touches to her wedding dress. She coyly suggests that she may have been in both rooms at the same time, but Jon doesn't entertain this notion and leads her down the hall, not noticing that the boy's comic book has now changed to show a mushroom cloud rising behind the U.S. Capitol Building. Janey asks Jon if he would prefer to have the first dance or the last dance of the wedding, and we're treated to more possibilities.

When Jon picks the first dance, President Kennedy is assassinated, Richard Nixon resigns during his second term, and Ronald Reagan advocates for the Berlin Wall to be torn down. But when Jon chooses the last dance, Kennedy survives his assassination attempt and Richard Nixon wins a third term, staying in office long enough to oversee a full-blown nuclear war against Russia. We then get a fun two-page spread showing how reality can be altered by so many insignificant choices made by Jon, such as accidentally pressing the wrong button on the elevator and choosing red wine instead of white at dinner.

We skip ahead to Jon and Janey having dinner with Wally Weaver and Professor Glass. They're discussing the idea of Schrodinger's cat, which involves placing a cat in a box rigged with a device that has a 50% chance of killing the cat. According to quantum physics, this doesn't mean that the cat is either alive or dead while in the box — it means the cat is both alive and dead until it is observed. This mindset is important for studying particles that are only particles while being observed but are waves when you look away. Jon then wonders what happens if you don't open the box. His professor says that the longer the box remains closed, the greater the chance that unanticipated factors could alter the results, creating more random possibilities and pocket universes, each equally real until the moment when the box is finally opened and they all collapse into one reality as perceived by the quantum observer.

Later, Jon is trying once again to fix Janey's watch. He can't understand why it won't work when all the parts seem to be just fine. Janey suggests that maybe the watch isn't broken, but time is. Jon brushes that comment off as a joke and decides to abandon the watch for the time being. But Dr. Manhattan remains behind, considering the possibility that time is broken. As nuclear missiles begin raining down all over the planet, Dr. Manhattan begins to question what he has become and what he has done. And the final panel ends on the infamous Robert Oppenheimer quote: "For I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds."

I normally don't go into that much detail on these Before Watchmen reviews, but I absolutely loved this issue. I haven't read too many Straczynski comics, but they've never impressed me as much as this one has. Maybe I'm just a sucker for alternate worlds and different possibilities, but I think it was presented in a fascinating way, especially with the scientific discussion anchoring everything. This is exactly the kind of story I wanted for Dr. Manhattan.

The Crimson Corsair backup story by John Higgins continues in this issue. It is beautifully illustrated, but still dreadfully boring. For me, anyway. Hopefully the rest of this Before Watchmen series will be good when I get read them. I guess right now, those issues are both simultaneously the most interesting and most dull stories until I open them up.