And the Strike Goes On

By Tom Callahan

Some singing, some fishing, finally some talking

Six weeks into the National Football League strike, the players were still fixed in their five-point stance, and the owners had to be coerced even to huddle.

Tweaked by the National Labor Relations Board, which scheduled a Nov. 15 hearing on a preliminary finding that the league has failed to bargain in good faith, management at least agreed to reopen negotiations over last weekend. But the owners seemed no more disposed than ever to grant the union's five demands: substantially increased salaries, performance bonuses, elimination of wage inequities position to position, veterans' protection from economy cuts, and a guaranteed share in television revenue.

One week after throwing up his hands and going home, Private Mediator Sam Kagel, 73, summoned Jack Donlan, 47, of the management council, and Ed Garvey, 42, of the Players Association, back to the table to "reexamine and reassess." No one was acting hopeful. A "credible" season, as first defined by Commissioner Pete Rozelle, was understood to be no fewer than twelve games. In an unshattered year, the number is 16. But a twelve-game season with two weeks of abbreviated playoffs leading to the Super Bowl on Jan. 30 (a date Rozelle and the owners claim is logistically unalterable) would require play to resume this weekend. So the next question may be whether a ten-game season is credible enough. Or, as owners, players and fans are beginning to wonder, Is the season over?

To which Garvey replies, "Nonsense." For one thing, he says, there is nothing holy about the Super Bowl date. He would simply pick up the regular schedule at the third game, where everyone left off, and play it out, perhaps shifting a few games from icy cities as winter stiffens. Is that possible? "This league stopped barnstorming 40 years ago," snaps Rozelle, who usually tries not to snap in the service of the owners. "Is Buffalo going to use Birmingham for six games? Is Green Bay going to use Memphis? The clubs, in my opinion, would have to offer refunds to season-ticket holders who contracted to watch games in October and November that would be played in January and February." Besides, he doubts that the TV networks would reprogram to oblige the N.F.L.

With its prearranged $150 million line of bank credit untouched as yet, the 28 owners have subsisted on so far unrefunded season-ticket revenue (plus handsome interest) and TV money, some of which will have to be paid back next year. The networks normally pay off in five chunks, $20 million on account in March, followed by four installments of $75.5 million each on the first days of September, October, November and December. The March and September paydays were met. But only half the October payment arrived, and no more is coming.

The alternative TV programming has been even more dismal than expected, since nobody could have imagined so many melancholy boxers or instant replays from pool rooms. Compared with the 24.9 rating and 42% audience share garnered by the first Monday-night game of the season (Pittsburgh-Dallas), ABC's substitute movies have dipped as low as 14.3 and 22%. A "Superstars" competition, sort of a schlock Olympics, did even worse at 10.5 and 17%. After three weeks of Canadian Football League games, the grand experiment, NBC switched to the World Series and then came back to boxing.

The Ted Turner Broadcasting System acknowledged losing more than $800,000 televising two misbegotten union-sponsored "AllStar" games played in front of intimate 8,760 and 5,331 gatherings in Washington and Los Angeles before legal action interceded to the relief of all. On their own time, the players turned out to be more timid than previously thought. "Nobody wanted to get hurt," says Atlanta Falcons Wide Receiver Floyd Hodge. "There might have been a little holdback."

To men for whom holding back is as unnatural as a painless autumn Sunday, the passing weeks have been unnerving but, in a certain way, pleasing. Which may help explain why the union has not cracked. "Getting up for the game is not a nice thing," says Atlanta Falcons Offensive Lineman Mike Kenn. "I don't miss getting nervous." While driving in the country, another Falcon blocker, Eric Sanders, 255 Ibs. and immovable most Sundays, found to his wonder that he could be moved by a falling leaf.

Dave Casper, the Houston Oilers' tight end turned stockbroker, claims to find the market "more exciting than football" and declares almost hopefully, "The season's shot." The players' approach to locating temporary diversion and employment has been resourceful, and musical. Eagles Quarterback Ron Jaworski hoisted a silver tray for charity and raced waiters in Philadelphia. In Dallas, where it is against the law to leave the scene of an accident before writing a song about it, Cowboy Quarterback Danny White has been orchestrating his own country music album. Ironically, now that bad boxers are in demand, retired Pugilist and Defensive End Ed ("Too Tall") Jones has decided that he too would rather be a singer. In partnership with several teammates, Jones also operates Imperial Investors, wonderfully described as "a fast-food, janitorial-service and record company." Their coach, Tom Landry, mounted a horse for American Express. "Do you know me?" The horse looked vaguely familiar.

Those well-intentioned informal workouts of the strike's first days have waned to a few touch-football games, every player seeking his own method of staying in shape. There was some running and weight lifting, but wetting a fishing line was more popular. Beasley Reece, New York Giants defensive back, enrolled in an aerobic dancing class.

"After they finish killing me with that," Reece says, he gets back to the silk-screening business in his apartment. Recce's favorite creation: a T shirt depicting a small innocent football player being menaced by a large carnivorous owner. It does not show who wins.

--By Tom Callahan. Reported by Joseph N. Boyce/ Atlanta and Jack E. White/ New York

With reporting by Joseph N. Boyce, Jack E. White

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.