Communists, Caviar, and a Conception (Part 2/2)

Or, A Butterfly Flaps Its Wings in Philly and Alters the Future

The Philadelphia Atoms vs. Moscow Red Army game would not be identical to what was to come in the Major Indoor Soccer League, but it would have looked awfully familiar: a fast-paced game with a lot of offense, six players on a side, synthetic carpeting and balls bouncing off sideboards. The biggest difference would be a much shorter goal: only 4 feet high.

”Indoor soccer, it turns out, offers as many hurtling bodies as, say, Roller Derby. There’s some of the reckless flair of a Demolition Derby, too, and enough kicked shins, scraped knees and twisted ankles to satiate most blood-lovers,” the Philadelphia Inquirer’s Bill Lyon wrote.

Any sporting event between the Soviet Union and the United States of America carried greater weight than a soccer game between the Atoms and the Cosmos. Former Olympic athlete John B. Kelly, Jr., a member of the Philadelphia city council, presented a letter to the Soviet team upon their arrival. In it, he asked them to pass on to the Soviet government his disapproval over antisemitism during the World University Games held in Moscow the previous year.

Despite the larger political environment, the personal relations between the two sides were quite warm. The night before the game, owner Tom McCloskey and Miller rolled up in a limo to the Soviet team hotel and whisked the team president and other associates away to a Philadelphia Flyers game. None of the officials spoke English, but an interpreter helped smooth the way.

“I think one of the other guys was KGB,” Miller said.

Through the interpreter, the club president invited McCloskey and Miller up to their hotel suite for some postgame vodka. Fitting for Russians.

“I didn’t drink, but my owner did: he loved vodka. I think it fooled him because it was pretty strong,” Miller said.

The Soviet team president proceeded to open a drawer in one of their dressers and brought out loads of Russian caviar. A feast of caviar and vodka ensued, lubricating the rough edges of what could have been a tense and uncomfortable scene: two groups from opposing nations, ideologically opposed, speaking different languages. McCloskey, in particular, seemed to be having a hell of a time.

“Tom, after he had way too much vodka, shouted across to me. ‘Hey Al, Khrushchev didn’t mean anything bad, he just didn’t have enough vodka!’” Miller recalled.

Game day, February 11, 1974, came with great hope and great hype. Miller was quoted in the Philadelphia Daily News that though he didn’t think they would rip the Red Army team, they COULD hang with them. But Miller worried about the Red Army goalie, Leonid Shmuts.

“Man, he must be 6-feet-5 and he looks like Lurch on the Addams Family. His hands hang down to the floor. He’s a superb goalie, like a vacuum cleaner,” Miller told the Inquirer’s Bill Lyon.

Shmuts had a promising career with the Soviet national team. Emphasis on the word “had.” During a 1971 Soviet league game, after starting to throw the ball to a teammate, he paused and retracted his arm. Unfortunately for Shmuts, the ball slipped out and into his own goal. He never played another game for the national team. Nonetheless, he presented a (literally) big obstacle to the Atoms.

Lyon exclaimed in his column that “…the Russians are coming! The Russians are coming!” They were. But so were hordes of Philadelphians. The sidewalks around the arena thronged with soccer fans and those curious just to see a real-live Russian. Reporters milled throughout the crowd, doing man-on-the-street interviews with the fans.

The game itself turned out to be a close affair for the first two of the three periods. The Atoms scored first. They then lost the lead, but kept rallying to tie. At the start of the final period, it was all tied up at 3-3. The players noted that conditioning was key in this newfangled indoor game. And things moved very fast.

“This demands a lot more concentration. It’s all quick stuff,” Atoms goalie Bob Rigby told Lyon.

In the final period, the Soviets scored three goals in succession to put away the Atoms. The final score: 6 (Godless communists) to 3 (for the red-white-and-blue-blooded Americans).

“I’m disappointed. We wanted to win this sucker so badly, but their style and high standard made us do a lot of chasing. They find people. They don’t waste balls. The first period, when everything was even, there was no reason to believe we can’t play them if we’re fit and ready,” Miller told the Philadelphia Daily News’ Phil Jasner.

Miller knew his Atoms had been ready and excited to play. And he believed they played well, over their head even. But the Russians were simply better, more experienced, and accustomed to playing the highest level of competition. Staying with the Soviets until the final period made Miller happy. Not as happy as he would have been with a victory, but it was a real accomplishment for his young Atoms.

“But the most important thing was the fans loved it. And the league loved it. They thought this could be a real winner for us. Philadelphia drew more indoor that game than most teams were drawing outdoors. It was pretty sensational,” Miller said.

Atoms defender Bobby Smith and unidentified Commies.

The Atoms sold a lot of advertising on the dasher boards and made a ton of money on tickets that night. The next year, the NASL would host an indoor soccer tournament. Miller had hopes this would launch a full-year schedule of games, indoor in the winter and outdoor in the summer, that would allow the players to make a full-time career out of the NASL.

“We averaged 12,000 people for 11 home games last year, and this year, in one week, we sold more season tickets than we did all of last season,” Miller told Lyon.

The Atoms team office was deluged with letters from the fans, enthusiastic about what they had seen, and wanting more of it. At first, he thought maybe it was the novelty of seeing the Russians play, but eventually he decided it was the indoor game itself.

“Indoor soccer, as it turns out, offers as much action as a Saturday night stroll through Central Park right after the muggers have thrown out the first body of a new season. Play is continuous, and as violent, as ice hockey, with Roller Derby overtones and the ball caroming off the boards, with exciting velocity,” Lyon wrote in the Inquirer.

The Red Army game in Philly started something big. But as it would turn out, that something didn’t involve the NASL.

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Ed Tepper, on the right, when he owned the Philadelphia Wings professional lacrosse team.

It was at this point that a butterfly named Ed Tepper flapped his wings.

Ed Snider, owner of the Philadelphia Flyers, had tipped Tepper off about the game, thinking he might find some use for AstroTurf for his professional lacrosse team. But after watching the Atoms battle it out with the Soviet Red Army team, Tepper thought to himself, this should be a major sport.

“After the game I went downstairs and spoke to some of the Atoms players. They had no idea how to play indoor soccer,” said Tepper.

Who did? It was an amorphous creation; a Frankenstein-like combination of hockey and soccer. It had existed in various forms around the world, but mostly as something that occurred during training.

“Everybody who has coached or played soccer knows that five-a-side in practice is where you really see the talent players have. You are playing in a more confined space, they have to think quicker, act quicker, be more skillful and be savvier,” Miller said. “I’ve watched Messi in a training session and oh my God, if you think he’s magical in a 11-a-side game, you should see him in a six or seven-a-side game.”

In 1978, Tepper would get together with Snider’s brother-in-law, Earl Foreman, former owner of the ABA’s Virginia Squires, to beat the NASL to the punch. The Major Indoor Soccer League (MISL) started one year before the NASL’s first indoor season. This one-year gap made all the difference. Though the NASL would limp through to the 1983-84 season, it lost the battle for indoor dominance.

If Ed Tepper missed that February 1974 game in Philadelphia, it is unlikely the MISL would have happened. Perhaps the NASL’s indoor league might have met more success in such a scenario. Or maybe another butterfly would have flapped its wings and created some other indoor league. Regardless, Al Miller’s Philadelphia Atoms and Moscow Red Army were there at the conception of something special…but nobody would know it for another four years.

THE END

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Next Week: A profile of Erik Rasmussen -“The Contrarian Wizard of the Pitch - Part 1/2”

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Selected Bibliography

• Hanlon, Tim, host. “EPISODE #103: MISL Indoor Soccer's Origin Story – With Co-Founder Ed Tepper.” Good Seats Still Available (podcast). March 9, 2019. https://goodseatsstillavailable.com/listen/2019/3/9/episode-103-the-major-indoor-soccer-leagues-origin-story-with-co-founder-ed-tepper

• Hanlon, Tim, host. “EPISODE #71: National Soccer Hall Of Fame Coach Al Miller - Part Two.” Good Seats Still Available (podcast). July 21, 2018. https://goodseatsstillavailable.com/listen/2018/7/21/episode-70-national-soccer-hall-of-fame-coach-al-miller-part-two

• Holroyd, Steve. “Russians, Atoms, and the birth of indoor soccer.” The Philly Soccer Page. February 11, 2019.

• Jasner, Phil. “Atoms Shot in Russian Roulette.” Philadelphia Daily News. February 12, 1974.

• Lyon, Bill. “If Russians are Coming, Do We Defuse Atom Bomb?” The Philadelphia Inquirer. February 10, 1974.

• Lyon, Bill. “Atoms Fall to Red Army Blitz.” The Philadelphia Inquirer. February 12, 1974.

• Lyon, Bill. “No Bomb, the Atoms Aim for a 2nd Blast.” The Philadelphia Inquirer March 18, 1974.

• Miller, Al. Interview by Tim O’Bryhim. November 10, 2023.

• Staff. “Red Army Too Much for NASL Stars.” Philadelphia Daily News. February 8, 1974.

• Staff. “Kelly Sends Red Letter.” Philadelphia Daily News. February 12, 1974.

• Tepper, Ed. Interview by Tim O’Bryhim. November 10, 2023.