Saturday, August 29, 2026

Before Watchmen: Is Ozymandias Alan Moore?


I don’t like the execution of this Jae Lee cover, but I really appreciate the concept of it. When Clark Kent rips open his shirt like this, he reveals his true, more powerful Superman self beneath. But when Ozymandias pulls off his costume, he reveals the much more powerful (and dangerous) Adrian Veidt. I think the message this image sends is perfectly fitting. I just wish someone other than Lee had drawn it.


I unfortunately find the variant cover by Jill Thompson rather off-putting. There’s something about this style that feels rather amateurish to me. Ozymandias appears slightly off model. And Bubastis isn’t even the right color. Was this a rush job? It’s a shame there isn’t any appealing art with this issue because I think Len Wein actually did something interesting here.

The issue begins with Adrian conceding that even though he’s the smartest man in the world, he’s not the most creative. He was convinced he had to do something dramatic to save the world, but he had absolutely no idea what to do. So he turned to the world of science fiction. Adrian assembled a massive collection of books, TV shows, and movies, which he spent several months consuming. But even after reading and watching everything he could get his hands on, he still lacked the inspiration he needed. So he went back through everything a second time. And then a third time.

Finally, something spoke to him. An episode of a 1960s show called The Outer Limits, which featured an elaborate plot to create a fake alien scare in order to unite the world divided by the Cold War. Adrian became obsessed with that episode, called The Architects of Fear, and watched it repeatedly for several days. Seeming to forget it was a work of fiction, he scrutinized every detail of the characters’ plans, determined to deduce why their plan had failed. Ultimately, Adrian decided they didn’t go big enough.

So he quickly built a biolab and tried to genetically create the most hideous creature he could imagine. He ended up with an adorable kitten of a tiger/lynx hybrid. Adrian fell in love with his new pet, which he named Bubastis. However, he was once again forced to confront the limitations of his imagination, so he launched an elaborate plan that began with the purchase of an isolated island and taking every precaution to conceal it from all available public records. And then spend several years constructing all the necessary infrastructure on said island.

Time passes and Adrian is horrified to learn that President Nixon has sent Dr. Manhattan to Vietnam. Adrian is even more bothered by Nixon changing the Constitution so he can serve a third term. So he takes this moment to publicly reveal his secret identity, making the same striking pose he did on the cover. But when the police went on strike, and Nite Owl teamed up with Comedian, Adrian chose to put his costume back on and go out and help. However, he doesn’t really do much. He injures a kid who spray-painted “Who Watches the Watchmen” on a wall, then he beats up a guy who was stealing a TV. We later learn that Adrian was just hoping that enough people would see him in costume to spread rumors that would boost the sales of his Ozymandias action figures.

At the time of the Keene Act passing, Adrian is frustrated that all his years of working with Dr. Manhattan has yet to reveal the secret of teleportation to him. But he does take some comfort in observing the technological progress the two of them have brought to America with electric cars and affordable blimps.




So I had an epiphany while reading this. What if Len Wein had been writing Adrian Veidt as if he were Alan Moore all along? A genius, to be sure, but also a cocky, overly wordy one who is easily distracted and not necessarily the most creative. Think about it: Moore’s most celebrated works weren’t exactly original creations. V for Vendetta was a modernization of the Guy Fawkes legend. The League of Extraordinary Gentleman was a conglomeration of famous literary characters freely available in the public domain. And his original plan for Watchmen was to involve the group of characters DC had recently acquired from Charlton Comics. DC wouldn’t let Moore work with Blue Beetle, Captain Atom, and the rest, so Moore just barely tweaked those characters and left everything else the same.

And then there’s the ending. Moore really did steal his climax from The Outer Limits, but he didn’t tell anybody until Wein (the editor of the original series) discovered the connection while issue #10 was in production. Wein demanded that Moore change it, but Moore refused, choosing instead to randomly throw in a line of dialogue from The Architects of Fear episode as a tribute. Of course, this decision would have major ramifications for the film adaptation of Watchmen, as DC desperately sought to avoid a lawsuit. But Moore didn’t care about that.

Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but it really feels like Wein was making fun of Moore here. “Oh, sure, you need to read every single sci-fi book known to man and watch every TV show three times over for ‘research’ … yeah, right!” I don’t know if that was Wein’s intention, but this reading certainly made this series a lot more enjoyable to me. So that’s what I’m going to go with.

Thursday, August 13, 2026

1974 Part One: The beginning of the end


What does it mean for your team when the owner decides to run for governor? Well, in the case of the Utah Stars, it meant nothing but bad news. The year of 1974 was the beginning of the end for the ABA in Utah. But it also was the beginning of the NBA’s arrival to Utah.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that the Stars had to spend most of the 1972-73 season knowing they’d soon lose their head coach, Utah then spent much of the 1973-74 season with the knowledge that owner Bill Daniels would be selling the team. In January 1974, Daniels announced his candidacy for the Colorado governorship. He promised to hold on to the Stars until the season ended, and he vowed to do everything he could to keep the team in Utah. Unfortunately, it proved enormously difficult for him to find someone willing and able to purchase the club.

And then in February, the Stars were hit with a bombshell. Their top player, Zelmo Beaty, had filed a lawsuit for more than $1 million. This all began in October 1973, with Beaty holding out of training camp to try to get a better contract. The Stars responded by suing him, but he quickly agreed to pay a fine and return to the team in order to have that lawsuit dropped. But a few months later, Beaty decided to sue his team partly for that training camp fine, but mostly for failing to honor all the terms of the contract he had originally signed with Jim Kirst back with the Los Angeles Stars. For better or worse, Beaty agreed to continue playing for Utah while the lawyers battled it out in the courts.

So with all that looming over Utah’s head, the players tried to stay focused on winning basketball games and the front office of Vince Boryla and Arnie Ferrin tried to prepare for the draft. Everybody apparently hated the ridiculous format of four separate drafts in 1973, so the ABA wisely pared it down to a more standardized system. Of course, they still continued their practice of beating the NBA to the punch, holding the first two rounds of their draft in March, then the next seven rounds in April. Neither of Utah’s first two picks — Joe C. Meriweather and Len Kosmalski — joined the team, which sadly was all too commonplace in the ABA.

Between the second and third rounds of the draft, Daniels finally ended his months-long search for a buyer. Daniels had allegedly asked for $2.5 million for anybody willing to keep the team in Salt Lake City and $3 million for out-of-state offers. On April 1, Daniels announced that a Salt Lake-based corporation called West Am agreed to purchase the Stars. (Is it really wise to make such important announcements on April Fools’ Day?)


Keith Howick, president of West Am, promised to not only keep the Stars in Salt Lake, but also to keep the team’s front office in place. Although the purchase of the team (which was scheduled to be finalized on August 1) included Vince Boryla’s minority share, Howick hoped to keep Boryla on board as team president for at least two more seasons. Daniels perhaps felt a little strange selling the team to a company, but he acknowledged that the prices of professional sports teams had risen to the point where individuals couldn’t afford them by themselves. But could West Am actually afford the Stars? The company owned a small ski resort, a motorhome manufacturer, and various real estate properties throughout the state. Nowadays, it doesn’t seem like too big of a hurdle for such a corporation to come up with $2.5 million. But back then? Well, I consider it a bit of a red flag that West Am immediately began calling on the government’s help to enable them to sell off 80% of the team as public stock options. West Am claimed this was because they wanted to let local Utahns have a more direct ownership in the team. But I (with the benefit of hindsight) can only see this as an admission that West Am did not have the required capital.

Regardless, this was an exciting time for the Stars. And it may have been the allure of new owners that prompted Boryla and Ferrin to make a massive gamble in the third round of the draft.


Moses Malone was a high schooler from Virginia, who had been considered by many to be the next Wilt Chamberlain. He was also intrigued by the idea of becoming the first basketball player since the 1940s to completely skip college and go straight to a professional league. The NBA forbade this, but the ABA was willing to set a new precedent. And the Stars were willing to take that risk. Of course, this pick was incredibly polarizing at the time, with many people — including in the local media — criticizing the Stars for seeking to exploit a teenager.

Of course, there was no guarantee that Malone would actually join the Stars. That saga would take months to resolve. In the meantime, there was still plenty of basketball left to play! So let’s take a look at the five most interesting players this season.


Zelmo Beaty’s legendary career had finally begun to approach its end. Although the 34-year-old managed to appear in 77 games, he only put up 13.4 points and 8.0 rebounds per game. And he missed the All-Star Game for the first time in his ABA career. But he was still regarded as the leader of the team and many envisioned him as the ideal mentor to young Moses Malone (should he choose to join the Stars).


Willie Wise once again was Utah’s best player, putting up 22.3 points, 7.6 rebounds, and 1.4 steals per game. He made his third straight All-Star Game and was on the All-Defensive First Team for the second year in a row.


James Jones also had another strong season with 16.8 points, 5.2 assists, and 1.9 steals per game, along with an ABA-high .884 free throw percentage. He made his second-straight All-Star appearance, which was his sixth overall.


Ron Boone continued to thrive in his starting role, averaging 17.6 points, 5.2 rebounds, 5.0 assists, and 1.5 steals per game. He also was named an All-Star for the second time of his career, his first time as a member of the Utah Stars.


Gerald Govan was acquired by the Stars in 1972, when Utah sent former Ute Merv Jackson to Memphis. Govan was a 6-10 center from Jersey City, who played college ball at St. Mary of the Plains in Kansas. He was drafted by the St. Louis Hawks in the 11th round in 1964, but he didn’t make the team. So he went to Italy until he signed with the New Orleans Buccaneers in 1967. In 1969, he made his first and only All-Star appearance. His numbers dipped by the time he reached Utah — just 7.0 points and 8.8 rebounds per game in 1973-74 — but he was a reliable player who helped ease the pressure off the oft-injured Beaty.

New coach John Mullaney kept the Stars on their winning ways, finishing with a 51-33 record to win the Western Division for the third-straight year. Utah needed six games to eliminate San Diego in the first round, before facing off against Indiana for the fifth consecutive season. Once again, the Western Division Finals went a full seven games. Fortunately, Game 7 was played in the Salt Palace. Unfortunately, Zelmo Beaty was unable to play.

However, James Jones stepped up big time with 29 points, nine assists, seven rebounds, and two steals as Utah cruised to a shocking 109-87 victory. This put the Stars back in the Finals for the third time in franchise history, this time pitting them against superstar Julius Erving and the New York Nets. Utah dropped the first two games in New York before returning to Salt Lake for Game 3. Despite Jones’ 28 points and Beaty’s 22 points with 16 rebounds, the Stars lost by three points in overtime. (Willie Wise’s 7-for-20 shooting performance certainly didn’t help matters.)

The Stars did avoid a sweep, thanks to Jones’ 24 points and Gerald Govan’s monster 23 rebounds in Game 4. But the Nets claimed the title with a 111-100 win in Game 5. Sadly, Zelmo Beaty (who apparently had the flu) only had four points and zero rebounds in what turned out to be his final game for the Utah Stars. It also ended up being the final game for Willie Wise and James Jones in Utah uniforms, though they both performed much better. Wise had 34 points and Jones scored 20. Whether anyone involved knew it at the time, it was the end of an era.

Just 11 days after losing the championship to the Nets, Bill Daniels was forced to make an unhappy announcement. The proposed deal with West Am Corporation had fallen through. Daniels refused to go into much detail of why the agreement was canceled or what happened to the down payment West Am had given him of more than $50,000 and 350 acres near Heber City. From what I can tell, it seems the biggest sticking point was West Am’s inability to guarantee a full sale of 80% of the team through stocks by September 1.

In a tense press conference, Daniels vowed to sell the Stars by August 1, saying that date would give the new owners time to relocate the franchise in time for the 1974-75 season, if necessary. Although he prioritized keeping the Stars in Salt Lake, Daniels did raise his asking price from $2.5 million to $2.8 million to offset the losses he had sustained since April. The sad fact was that the Stars were bleeding money. Despite being one of the winningest teams in the ABA, attendance at the Salt Palace had been in a steady decline since their 1971 championship. And nobody really knew why. Even the league’s biggest star, Dr. J, couldn’t sell out a Finals game in Salt Lake. Was it because the Stars didn’t have any local talent on the roster by this point? Was it because basketball fans had come to regard the ABA as an inferior product to the NBA? Was it because Ron Boone was so boring to watch?

Vince Boryla went on the offensive during the May 21 press conference. He placed all the blame on the media for driving fans away. He claimed the Stars only received negative attention from the papers — even after they reached the Finals. Daniels hastily distanced himself from Boryla’s remarks, and he put out another concrete number that would serve to guide the next potential buyer. He set the Stars’ break-even point at 5,000 season tickets, but in 1974, they had less than 3,500.

Enter financial consultant James A. Collier. He launched an ambitious “Save Our Stars” campaign to drive up season ticket sales. By July 24, the Stars had reached 5,000, but their goal was actually 7,000. Both he and the local government didn’t just want the Stars to break even — they wanted the team to actually be profitable. They worked out a complicated deal involving escrows and stock options and tax rates that went way above my head. But from what I can tell, that 7,000 goal was never met. But that didn’t stop Collier from trying to purchase the Stars. He spent all summer quietly negotiating with his team of 20 investors. That number soon dropped by half, then finally six by the time August rolled around. Which then set up a rather unusual press conference.


Without ever actually saying that he had purchased the Utah Stars, Collier indirectly implied that he and his five fellow investors were now in control of the franchise. If you think that sounds fishy, you’re not alone. One of the first people to jump ship at this news was head coach Joe Mullaney. In his lone season with the Stars, he not only took them to the Finals, but he was named co-Coach of the Year. But even though he had two years left on his contract, he decided he didn’t want to risk missing any paychecks (as so many people involved in the ABA did). So Mullaney went to Memphis, then St. Louis, before returning briefly to the NBA with Buffalo. But he was out of the big leagues by 1978, finding work in Italy, at Brown, and then finally back to Providence, where he retired in 1985. He eventually passed away in Providence, Rhode Island, in 2000 at the age of 75.

It was pretty much an open secret that Mullaney was headed out the door by the time Collier and associates held their odd press conference. So Collier came prepared, using the opportunity to announce the hiring of former Ute Bucky Buckwalter as director of player personnel. Although Collier didn’t explicitly say it, everybody naturally assumed that Buckwalter would also be named the head coach. Of course, the Stars did officially make an offer to Zelmo Beaty, who was still interested in becoming a player/coach. But he was insulted by their offer of $25,000 when the average salary for ABA coaches was $50,000.


Morris “Bucky” Buckwalter was born and raised in Oregon, but played for the University of Utah, leading them to the NCAA Tournament quarterfinals in 1956, only to lose to Bill Russell and the San Francisco Dons. Buckwalter wasn’t good enough to go pro, so he got involved in coaching, joining the Ute staff as an assistant in 1959. He served under the legendary Jack Gardner until 1967, when he got his first head coaching job at Seattle University. He stayed there until becoming an assistant for the NBA’s Seattle SuperSonics in 1972. In 1973, he was named the interim head coach to replace Tom Nissalke (remember that name). 

After a 13-24 record, Seattle wasn’t too interested in keeping Buckwalter, but the Utah Stars were happy to have him for two reasons. One, he was a connection to Utah — something the Stars hadn’t had since LaDell Andersen left. And two, he promised to play an up-tempo game. Even though Joe Mullaney’s slowed-down isolation offense worked well with Utah’s aging roster, the fans hated him for it. Apparently reaching the Finals didn’t matter if it wasn’t fun to watch. In any case, no one was too sad to see Mullaney leave.

And it seems like very few people lamented Vince Boryla’s departure, either. His shares in the team had (allegedly) been purchased by Collier and associates, and Collier himself had claimed Boryla’s position as team president. Boryla had been an effective general manager, making big, bold moves that helped the Stars win the 1971 title and remain a contender for the following three years. But he had also been a brash, contentious figure, constantly complaining about the media and the ABA’s ineffectual commissioners. 

I don’t think his criticisms of the sports reporters was warranted, but I do empathize with his complaints about the ABA. I find it completely outrageous that the league allowed another team to essentially steal Utah’s No. 1 draft pick. I also have a bit of sympathy for Boryla being forced to make all the hard decisions for the franchise. While Daniels seemed to do little more than write checks from Colorado, Boryla was the one dealing with Utah’s constantly rotating coaching carousel and the increasing cost of the players’ contracts. Yeah, Daniels did have deep pockets, but it became harder to justify his spending when the team kept losing more money each year.

Boryla kept busy by becoming the agent for his quarterback son, Mike, who was drafted in fourth round in 1974 by Cincinnati. Mike Boryla was a Pro Bowler in 1975, but a knee injury ended his career in 1978. Vince Boryla returned to the NBA as the general manager of the Denver Nuggets. In 1985, he was named Executive of the Year. In 2016, he died in Denver at the age of 89.

With Boryla and Mullaney out of the picture, that left Arnie Ferrin, James Collier, and Bucky Buckwalter to try to convince Moses Malone to sign with the Stars. Shortly after announcing his “takeover” of the team, Collier led the way of wooing the 19-year-old phenom. Wisely, Zelmo Beaty was not involved in these efforts. I imagine his frustrations with the Stars would have turned Malone away faster than Robert Parish. But convincing Malone to join still took an enormous amount of work, mainly because he had already signed a letter of intent with the University of Maryland. For one wild week in August, Malone dominated the headlines, seemingly changing his mind back and forth each day. And the amount of money Utah was offering him also varied widely. But finally, the intense negotiations paid off for the Stars’ new management. Partly because Malone was worried the NCAA would punish him for receiving money from college recruiters.


After initially seeking a 15-year contract worth over $3 million, the Stars signed Malone to a five-year deal worth approximately $1 million. The team was notoriously cagey about revealing any financial details, especially at this time, when Collier wouldn’t even explicitly say whether he purchased the team. Regardless, it was an enormous amount of money for a team with cash flow problems to dedicate toward one player. This deal reminds me eerily of the Los Angeles Stars signing Zelmo Beaty. It was the right move for the team, but the wrong move for the franchise.

This was supposed to be an exciting moment for the Stars. They had returned to the Finals, secured a new owner who would keep the team in Utah, and they added one of the nation’s top prospects. But everything continued to crumble down around the franchise. And for Bill Daniels, too. Despite pouring approximately $300,000 of his own funds into his political campaign, Daniels lost in September’s Republican primary to incumbent John Vanderhoof, who went on to lose to Democrat Richard Lamm in the general election. Perhaps he was distracted by endless negotiations of the sale of the Stars, or his still on-going lawsuit against his first coach, Bill Sharman.

The bad news continued when general manager Arnie Ferrin resigned just one week after Daniels’ gubernatorial defeat. Ferrin took a position in the University of Utah’s athletic department, but he made it clear that he was worried about the financial stability of the Stars and the ABA as a whole. He admitted that he (and perhaps others in Utah’s front office) had really been counting on the long-promised merger with the NBA. But that Oscar Robertson lawsuit still hadn’t been resolved, putting the future of the ABA in serious jeopardy. Ferrin quickly was promoted to athletic director for the Utes and held that position until 1985. In 2022, he died at age 97.

Just three days after Ferrin announced his resignation, the Stars released Zelmo Beaty, while Willie Wise and Jimmy Jones announced their intentions to hold out of training camp. Talk about everything happening at once! Of course, each of these decisions had slowly been building all summer long, so let’s break them down one at a time.

Despite Beaty’s frustration with the Stars, he insisted that he wanted to retire in Utah. He had received an offer from the Lakers in August, but decided to give the Stars a month to try to match it. In explaining how the negotiations broke down, Beaty casually dropped what I consider a huge bombshell: “I don’t think the fans are aware of the fact that Bill Daniels still owns the Utah Stars.” That’s right. Everyone had spent all summer referring to Collier as the owner, and Daniels and Collier played along with it, even though they both knew full well it wasn’t true.

This was particularly troubling for Beaty, who seemed like he had been hoping for a fresh start with Collier. Beaty realized he would never be able to get a fair deal from Daniels after he had sued his employer in February. So Utah decided to cut their losses with Beaty and allow him to reunite with Bill Sharman in Los Angeles. Beaty didn’t play particularly well in his lone season as a Laker and retired in 1975. He then finally fulfilled his dream of becoming a coach, by taking over the Virginia Squires. But he only put up a 9-33 record in that hectic final season of the ABA. 

Beaty never held another coaching job after that. And it seems like he largely disengaged from basketball, apart from a couple of brief gigs with the Utah Jazz broadcasting team. In 2013, he died of cancer at age 73. Three years later, he was posthumously enshrined into the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame. His wife of 50 years, Ann, delivered an extremely brief prerecorded speech. She and her two children were then officially welcomed into the Hall of Fame by Lenny Wilkens, who had played with Zelmo on the St. Louis Hawks.

In an October press conference, Daniels sheepishly apologized for pretending he had sold the team. He also admitted that Collier had only sold 5,600 season tickets — well short of the promised 7,000. Even worse, many of the people who had purchased tickets had backed out. But Daniels remained adamant that Collier would still become the owner of the franchise by the end of October — they just needed to finalize the details, which apparently included a massive drop in price to $1.8 million. Unfortunately, Daniels chose to use Jones and Wise as scapegoats, arguing that the holdouts were preventing the sale.

While Beaty’s departure hurt, it wasn’t terribly surprising. Nor was Jimmy Jones’. Back in June, after his contract expired, Jones made it quite clear that he would leave unless he got a pay raise. Jones asked for a four-year deal worth $250,000. He said that Utah had offered him only $80,000, while Collier claimed the deal was for $150,000. In any case, Jones made the argument that because the new offer was more than 10% less than his current salary, he was now legally a free agent. This was another case where Utah’s secrecy with financials came back to hurt them.

In October, Jones signed with the NBA team that had originally drafted him back in 1967, the Washington Bullets. The Stars tried to prevent this with a legal injunction (not that they didn’t have enough lawsuits on their hands), but were ultimately unsuccessful. Unfortunately, Jones’ NBA career turned out to be a dud. He tore the ligaments in his knee in 1975 and had to retire in 1976. Sadly, he was recently seen working as an 81-year-old Uber driver in Las Vegas.

While the Stars had all summer to deal with Beaty and Jones, Willie Wise’s trade request caught them completely off guard. And they did not take it well. In addition to fining him $300 a day, Daniels refused to trade Wise or even sell his contract — even though he publicly admitted that seven other teams had made serious offers for the valuable two-way forward. Wise could have ended the standoff at any time by simply rejoining the Stars, but he was just as stubborn as Daniels, saying he’d rather be poor and happy than rich and miserable.

And why was Wise so miserable? He had learned that Vince Boryla (and/or Wise’s agent) had secretly altered his contract, which had included a substantial amount of money to be deferred until 1975. But without Wise’s consent, that deferment had been pushed back to 1979. With the turmoil of Daniels struggling to sell the Stars to Collier, Wise rightly worried that his contract would never be paid in full. He was also quite distressed with how the team treated Beaty and Jones. After spending years propping Beaty up as the face of the franchise and Jones as the best guard in the league, Utah was loath to pay them what they were worth and quick to demonize them as disloyal and selfish. 

Wise aptly put it thusly: “They say they are tired of players who don’t live up to their contracts, but why can’t we get tired of them making promises and not living up to them or fulfilling clauses in specific times? Or doing things underhanded that we’re not aware of? We have no recourse? We have to take it and the abuse dished out in the papers?”

Can you believe that Zelmo Beaty was named president of the players union ahead of this guy? Seriously, every interview I’ve watched or read from Willie Wise has blown me away with how articulate and thoughtful he was. Anyway, Wise’s contract was eventually sold to Virginia, but not until January 30, 1975. Wise spent two seasons with the Squires, which meant that he was coached by Beaty, but only for a little bit. Beaty wasn’t hired until January 26, 1976, and Wise went down with a season-ending injury on February 24. After the ABA collapsed, Wise signed with the Denver Nuggets, but was limited to a reserve role. The next year, he joined the Seattle SuperSonics, but only appeared in two games before another injury forced his retirement. Today, Wise is working with Jimmy Jones to advocate for higher pensions of former ABA players.

So, to recap, in one year, Bill Daniels …
• Spent months negotiating a sale of the Utah Stars to West Am Corporation, which ultimately fell through
• Spent even more months negotiating a sale to James A. Collier and his associates, which never fully materialized
• Spent a sizable chunk of his personal fortune on a failed run for governor of Colorado
• Spent quite a bit of time and money in court, battling lawsuits against his former coach and two of his players
• Lost his current coach, team president, and general manager
• Lost the three best players of his team

But he did gain Moses Malone … a transaction that only cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars that he didn’t really have. As October turned into November and then December, Daniels was forced to finally admit that Collier would never be able to purchase the Stars. Daniels promised to keep the team in Salt Lake through the 1974-75 season, but beyond that was anyone’s guess. For the first time all year, he actually publicly began musing about moving the team to Cincinnati, Toronto, or even back to Los Angeles and Anaheim. He also expressed interest in owning the Denver Nuggets, since their owner lived in San Diego and would have rather owned the Conquistadors. The only thing snagging up this potential trade of franchises was Daniels’ inability to sell the Stars.

So, things were looking pretty grim at the end of 1974. But I’ll leave on a high note. One good thing brought about by James Collier was the introduction of fresh new jerseys.


Collier replaced that obnoxious giant star in the middle of the jersey with a fun, dramatic swoop, reminiscent of the controversial Atlanta Hawks jerseys of the day. Obviously these new uniforms weren’t enough to save the Stars, but they were a welcome change of pace.

I had originally planned on adding the formation of the New Orleans Jazz to this post, but I decided it was already long enough. (There was just so much drama this year!) So next time, we’ll explore the origin of the franchise that eventually became Utah’s preeminent professional basketball team.

Saturday, August 8, 2026

Before Watchmen: A little coordination would have helped


At last, we come to the end of Darwyn Cooke’s amazing Minutemen series, which has by far been the most consistent and engaging product of the cash-grab bonanza from DC. Cooke concludes his miniseries with a haunting image of the Hooded Justice, who was by far the most mysterious and enigmatic character in Alan Moore’s Watchmen. The Hooded Justice presented the most world-building, story-writing opportunities, as he’s essentially a blank slate. But Cooke resisted that temptation so strongly, he even refused to give us a clear look at him on his cover. Of course, as the story will soon reveal, this may not even be the real Hooded Justice …


The variant cover by Becky Cloonan is underwhelmingly mediocre. It’s your basic collage of the Minutemen, with Hooded Justice looming large over everyone. But there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for the staging of these characters or the expressions on their faces. Some are happy, some are stern, and I have no idea why.

Last issue ended with the cliffhanger of Nite Owl being knocked out by the Hooded Justice while trying to rescue a young boy. This issue jumped ahead so abruptly, I thought I had missed something. Nite Owl is being given a key to the city at an event attended by Marilyn Monroe, Joe DiMaggio, and many of the people who had been rescued by Nite Owl, including the boy who had been kidnapped by Hooded Justice. However, even though Nite Owl had saved the boy, he had failed to catch Hooded Justice.

After the ceremony, Nite Owl teamed up with Mothman one last time to try to find Hooded Justice. First they visit Nelson Gardner, who admits he hasn’t seen Hooded Justice in years. But as the three talk, they simultaneously realize that Hooded Justice’s most likely hiding place is their old headquarters. So Nite Owl and Mothman storm the tower and, sure enough, Hooded Justice is there waiting for them. He greets his visitors by throwing a large box at them, which severely injures Mothman. Hooded Justice then threatens to kill both of them if they don’t leave. Instead, Nite Owl attacks, brutally murdering his former teammate. Hollis Mason later wrote that he wishes he could say it was an accident, or that his rage had blinded him, but he knew full well what he was doing the whole time.

Nelson arrived shortly after Hooded Justice’s death and he screeched at Hollis to not touch or unmask Hooded Justice. But Hollis didn’t care about that. He helped the injured Byron Lewis limp away, while Nelson burned down the entire tower to bury his former lover. Believing he had avenged the deaths of countless innocent boys over the past few decades, Hollis slept like a baby that night.

The years passed, and Hollis gradually realized it was time for him to retire. In one of his last moments of lucidity, Byron purchased him the car shop he would end up operating for the rest of his life. As Hollis got closer to publishing his book, he was suddenly visited by the Comedian. Eddie Blake warns Hollis not to print the book, but Hollis stubbornly insists it only contains the truth. So Eddie decides to reveal the real story about the Hooded Justice.

When Hooded Justice refused to testify before Congress, J. Edgar Hoover ordered the Comedian to track him down. So Eddie decided to start by following Hollis, which led him to the Silhouette’s apartment. Eddie combed through all the material Ursula Zandt had collected on the case of the disappearing boys. Ursula had identified a circus strongman and former Nazi as the key suspect, who Eddie naturally supposed to also be the Hooded Justice. With some help from the FBI, Eddie found the strongman and killed him. Although he immediately realized that this man was too old to be Hooded Justice. However, he did give him an idea of how to attract the attention of Nite Owl.

Eddie disguised himself as Hooded Justice when he abducted the boy. Eddie bound and gagged the child, but otherwise didn’t harm him, simply using him as bait for Nite Owl. Eddie made sure that Hollis got a good glimpse of his Hooded Justice costume before he knocked him out and ran away. Eddie’s plan worked, as this encounter provided Hollis with the motivation to finally track down the Hooded Justice. Although Eddie admits he never expected Hollis to kill the man.

Eddie then left the stunned Hollis with another threat to not publish his book. Hollis ultimately decided to print it anyway, with major exception. He cut out the part about him killing the wrong man and all the controversial bits that J. Edgar Hoover wouldn’t have approved of — I’m assuming the attack on the Statue of Liberty, the firework warehouse, much of the stuff with Silhouette and Silk Spectre, etc. (basically all the new stuff that Cooke added). Hollis did, however, choose to keep the part of Eddie’s attempted rape, sort of like one final middle finger to the man. The rest of the pages were burned, with Hollis choosing to burden himself with the truth of Hooded Justice to his grave.




That was a pretty neat twist at the end. But what, exactly, was the point? Beyond, of course, making Hollis Mason more of a hypocrite with deeper dark secrets (which I fully support). I’m mostly asking about Hooded Justice. Because Cooke didn’t dare to delve into any specifics of Hooded Justice’s identity and backstory, all of his actions came across as irrational and rather random. I mean, I can understand refusing to testify before the House of Un-American Activities Committee. But why did he keep wearing his costume in complete solitude at the abandoned Minutemen headquarters? And why did he want to kill Nite Owl and Mothman? I suppose there comes a point where you can keep a character so shrouded in mystery that they can’t even be considered a character at all.

All in all, I loved Cooke’s Minutemen series. I believe DC should have given him 12 issues to fully encapsulate all their Before Watchmen ideas. That way, we would have had a punchier story with clean, exceptional art. And we would have had more consistency. Reading this issue immediately after Nite Owl #4 really makes me wonder what was the difference between the papers locked in Hollis’ safe and the papers that he burned. I suppose they could tell the same story, but it doesn’t make much sense for Hollis to dramatically burn the pages and then retype them all up and show them to his protege. I think a little bit of coordination between these two titles would have gone a long way. Same thing with the Ozymandias series, which also briefly explored the disappearance of Hooded Justice (before the book got bored). In hindsight, it seems kind of obvious that everyone should have begun their search at the Minutemen tower — and that includes the Comedian, the FBI, Nelson, Nite Owl, and the world’s smartest man, Ozymandias. Do you really expect me to believe that not a single one of those people thought to investigate literally the only place in the world that the Hooded Justice was known to stay at?

Oh well. This was still a good six-issue run from one of the greatest comic book creators of his time. He did his best with the source material, but I still kind of think that he shouldn’t have done it in the first place. According to legend, DC had asked Alan Moore to write a 12-issue prequel to Watchmen and he had actually agreed to do it … only if DC gave him the rights to Watchmen. I don’t know how much of that is true, but I do know that DC ended up creating a bloated, mostly unsatisfying prequel project that I still haven’t finished.