The Lost League (Part 3/3)
The Lost League (Part 3/3)
All good things...
To read the first two parts of “The Lost League” click Part 1 and Part 2…
The Wings field talented teams from their inception in 1979 through the first half of the 1980s. They make the semifinals of the MISL playoffs in each of those first five seasons. Dowler earns a team MVP award, the respect of his teammates and the undying love of the fan base; now dubbed The Orange Army.
On paper, the 1984-85 squad should take the team to the next level. Flashy scorers abound: the Argentine sensation Omar Gomez, Danish wizard Erik Rasmussen and English star Andy Chapman. The team flops. Despite a losing record of 21-26, they make the wildcard playoffs but lose in three games to the Minnesota Strikers (a franchise owned by the folks that brought you the Miami Dolphins).
“In order to extend your career and keep posing challenges to yourself, you need to move on,” Dowler says.
Dowler sticks his toe in the free agency market and the Tacoma Stars nibble. He takes the plunge and leaves the team that gave him his start. Dowler now has a great shot at some hardware: he is joined by rising star (and future two-time MLS MVP) Preki and, midway through the 1985-86 season, league MVP Steve Žungul.
“Yes, we were a good side, but did we have enough to win? At the end of your career you want something on the mantelpiece,” Dowler says.
Salaries balloon across the league.
“There were official salaries that were written on a contract. And then [Coach] Roy [Turner] would disappear with a suitcase every summer and I’d wonder what was in that suitcase?” Terry Nicholl says, laughing.
You can make six-figures playing indoor soccer six months a year in Wichita, Kansas. Chico Borja signs a three-year, $1 million contract with the LA Lazers (that’s about $938,000 a year in 2024 dollars). The money doesn’t reach NBA or MLB levels, but it is significant.
“You can get wrapped up in the money,” says Dowler.
He doesn’t.
In the 1985-86 season, Dowler and the Stars dispatch the Wings in the first round of the playoffs. But even with Žungul, they can’t quite make it to the championship. The 1986-87 playoff campaign starts the same way, but this time, after defeating the Wings, the Stars fight their way into the championship series against the Dallas Sidekicks.
Žungul and the gang come up short against a rising Brazilian star named Tatu. In true MISL fashion, he too has a gimmick: he takes off his jersey and throws it into the crowd after scoring a goal. The Stars lose the seven-game series despite winning the first two matches.
The next season the Stars make the playoffs, but the team is not in sync. They lose in the first round to the San Diego Sockers. Žungul is not the ideal teammate.
“Difficult. He is a larger-than-life character in the indoor game. He had a very high opinion of himself. Even if you don’t particularly like each other you can go out on the pitch and do your job. He wasn’t an easy person to play with,” Dowler says.
After Tacoma, Dowler heads to the Kansas City Comets. But there are signs of the league decomposing. Ballooning salaries force the MISL to impose a salary cap of $90,000 per player. Dozens of players across the league take pay cuts.
“Some of the hotels weren’t like the Hyatt Regency anymore,” says Dowler.
The MISL decides against another TV deal with ESPN. Instead, they go with FNN Score. Does anyone remember the days of sitting down with the family to watch the big game on THAT network? Successful franchises begin to fold.
“Yes, the rumblings were all around us. Like everything else in America, the MISL was a business and if the business isn’t successful, it’s going to go under. The LEAGUE is gonna go? How can the league go? For the foreign players, our leagues had been around for a hundred years,” Dowler says.
By 1992, the MISL, down to a handful of teams, gives up. A summary of the excuses: 1) We should have installed the salary cap sooner! 2) We should never have installed the salary cap! 3) The TV deal killed us. 4) The NHL blew by us. 5) The players union killed the league. 6) The U.S. Soccer Federation and the outdoor purists sabotaged us. 7-473) Various and sundry.
Mike Dowler continues on in lesser leagues, ending up in Sacramento in 1993.
“You are slowly losing it. The reflexes aren’t as sharp. I get a bit knackered out there…the spring in my legs wasn’t quite what it used to be,” Dowler says.
The same wrist breaks twice in two seasons. The 1995-96 season is his last. He’s 39 years old.
“Where do I go from here?” Dowler says.
Not to coaching. Dowler spent time as an assistant coach while in Sacramento, but a career as a head coach isn’t for him. Broadcasting piques his interest.
“I’d done quite a bit of color commentary on TV and radio,” says Dowler.
But when Dowler and his family head back to Wales for Christmas, the pull of grandparents and extended family is strong.
“It was 16 years in America and Elaine had followed me here to support my career. At the end it was only right that I repaid that debt of gratitude and go back to Wales. That was a fair deal, I think,” says Dowler.
It’s time to head home.
Even though the majesty and the pomp live on in the pregame introductions of other professional sports, the MISL has no place in American sports history. The rise of Major League Soccer erases the indoor era. The soccer purists have their revenge. Despite a rise in nostalgia for the 1980s, pop culture produces virtually nothing about the phenomenon of indoor soccer, even though it still exists (in a lesser form) today. But pockets of gray-haired fans in places like Baltimore, San Diego, Kansas City and Wichita still remember the old MISL.
“Some of the football was wonderful. I look at it and it’s fantastic. You can hardly believe it. I don’t care what level of football, it’s amazing,” Dowler says.
The elephants, the laser lights, the spaceships descending, Krazy George ascending: did it all happen or was it just some surreal fever dream?
In Wales today, almost no one recognizes Mike Dowler as a former football star. As of 2024, he’s now retired and settled near the seaside. A few might remember him as a lecturer at Coleg Gwent. Newport County superfans might recognize his name from old rosters. But “Double-0” Dowler has the most wins and shutouts in MISL history. He plays in four All-Star games and in front of many national television audiences. But his MISL career from 1980 to 1992 is unknown in Wales.
“Nobody knows over here. And there’s no point in me telling them because it’s not the real game as far as they’re concerned,” Dowler says.
But in America in the 1980s, Dowler and the MISL made an impact.
“In the MISL I had a second chance and I’d like to think I did something with it,” Dowler says.
Next week: “MISL Conception: The Origin Story”
Good stuff Tim!
These years live in my memory like it was yesterday. I guess I can take pride in the fact that I am now a part of the "pocket of Gray-haired fans." I accept that. To say that MISL has no place in American sports history, may be an overstatement for those of us that lived it intensely and still harbor the memories deep in our hearts. In some cases, as in mine, this era contributed greatly to the player, employee, teenager, and though sooner than we liked, adults. Those memories will simply never be erased. The fact that you are writing about it says plenty. Thank you, sir.
I wish that I had been old enough to appreciate the cultural significance of the MISL. I always enjoyed going to Wings games as a kid but was unaware of the popularity of the league as a whole.
Question about the first installment: Did the popularity of KC's MISL team really play a part in the King's decision to move to Sacramento?