No Gain

Coaches who had spent weeks working on game plans designed to destroy opening-day opponents were suddenly not sure what team to plot against. Television networks did not know if they would have games to televise. Bookies were beside themselves because the uncertainty was costing them big business. And millions of fans were steeling themselves for an autumn Sunday on which they might have to do something other than watch pro football.

Behind all the confusion last week was the sudden pro football players' strike, the third in five years. Like the ineffectual walkouts of 1970 and 1974, last week's action began with high hopes and fizzled for lack of player support. It was a strike whose ingredients must boggle the minds of experienced union men: a divided membership, a union head bargaining in the face of a vote of no confidence, strike votes taken without members' understanding what they were voting on, and a communications network that centered on one player's kitchen phone. By the time the strike sagged and collapsed on Thursday evening, most fans had once again had their fill of a puzzling dispute pitting greedy team owners against lavishly salaried athletes.

Rozelle Rule. The flare-up began when the New England Patriots voted to boycott the last game of their preseason schedule. The Patriots were not simply demanding a better contract; they were trying to find out if the N.F.L. Players Association was a viable union. Since the failure of last year's strike, the owners have felt no pressing need to bargain with the players' group. "We're tired of waiting for negotiations to progress," announced Randy Vataha, Patriot wide receiver and player representative. "Let's see if the owners are serious--and whether the players are serious."

What Rebel Leader Vataha did not mention was a fistful of bread-and-butter grievances that were the underlying force in the walkout. The most celebrated is the controversial Rozelle rule, which restricts a player's freedom to switch teams. At present, anyone who has completed his contractual obligations with one team can sell his services elsewhere, but if he does, his new owner must compensate the old one with property (player or draft choice) of equal value. If the teams cannot strike a bargain, N.F.L. Commissioner Pete Rozelle sets the terms himself, and the players claim he always exacts a high price to discourage the footloose.

The Rozelle rule is by no means the players' only complaint. Indeed, many of them voted recently to oust Players Association Executive Director Ed Garvey because they felt he had lost last year's strike by overstressing the Rozelle rule and other "freedom issues." More important, particularly to veterans, are the league's pension plan, insurance program and even the number of players allowed each team. Since the last contract expired in 1974, for example, the league has not contributed to the players' pension fund; they have now missed payments totaling $5 million. The players also want teams to carry more than the presently permitted roster of 43 men, so that clubs do not play short-handed when there are injuries.

With those old grievances still rankling, it did not take long for other teams to follow the Patriots' strike lead, particularly when the owners tried to lure New England back to work with an offer the players called insulting. In exchange for a return to work and a two-week no-strike pledge, the owners promised only that there would be no reprisals and that they would make a new but undefined contract proposal by this Thursday. The Patriots turned the owners down flat. With that, they were locked out, and by last Wednesday the New York Jets and Giants, the Washington Redskins and the Detroit Lions had also walked out.

But eleven teams voted not to strike, acting on sentiments that ran from dislike of Garvey and his emphasis on non-money matters to plain lack of enthusiasm for militant action. "I hate to see the association go down the drain," explained Miami Center Jim Langer, whose team voted not to strike, "but they talk like a union. I love the game of football. It's been great to a lot of people, including me."

Action Shift. The competing efforts to expand and contract the strike revolved around Patriot Spokesman Vataha, who fielded calls from other player representatives, mediators, owners and his teammates on one yellow wall phone in the kitchen of his home in Canton, Mass., south of Boston. Downing Cokes by the dozen to keep awake, the short (5 ft. 10 in.) pass catcher and onetime Snow White dwarf at Disneyland went on a 24-hour schedule. "Don't mind me if I'm a little incoherent," he warned callers. "I haven't slept for three days."

Then, on Wednesday evening, the action shifted to New York City. The owners' Management Council got together with Garvey, player representatives from the Giants and Jets, and chief Federal Mediator W.J. Usery Jr. After laboring through the night, the owners and players finally agreed to a proposal that resembled the owners' first offer to the Patriots, with two major differences: 1) the owners promised to present their new bargaining offer on Monday rather than Thursday; 2) Usery guaranteed that the offer would be substantial. By Thursday afternoon the Giants, Jets, Redskins and Lions had returned to camp. That evening, after personal assurances from Usery, the Patriots reluctantly voted to accept the pact.

Last week's flash-fire strike leaves the league mired in confusion. Players on prostrike teams headed into the weekend ready for revenge against opponents who refused to walk out, and that bitterness will not soon fade. Moreover, the Patriots promise they will walk out again if the owners fail to bargain seriously. Should that happen, New England is likely to pick up substantial support. Meanwhile, last week's event led many an irritated fan to an unexpected thought: Sunday without pro football might not be all that bad.

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