A bankrupt league
Former lady cagers Potthoff, Masley left without a job after the break-up of the ABL

By WILLIAM KALEC
Collegian Staff Writer

Angie Potthoff and Missy Masley both distinctly remember where they were when they heard the news.

Out of the corner of her eye, Potthoff noticed a little flashing red light emanating from her parents' answering machine. Her bags were packed, her car was loaded and after a much-needed break courtesy of the American Basketball League's All-Star weekend, Potthoff was prepared to return to Columbus, Ohio to get back to work.

For the past two seasons, work for Potthoff was starting at center night in and night out for the first-place Columbus Quest.

But all that was changed with the touch of a button.

Meanwhile, Masley too was enjoying her break from the grind of the ABL regular season as she sat in her Colorado home. Potthoff's former teammate at Penn State was in the midst of her third year in the league and her first as a member of the Colorado Xplosion when she heard the phone ring. As if nothing was out of the ordinary, Masley routinely picked up and said, "Hello."

And while their means of discovering this pertinent information were slightly different, the result was the same for the former Lady Lions.

Professional basketball in the ABL no longer would be their way of life.

On Dec. 22, 1998, ABL co-founder Gary Cavali announced that his pioneer, rival league of the WNBA had fought its last battle. Fifteen games into the league's third year, Cavali surrendered to the WNBA by declaring Chapter 11 bankruptcy and terminating the 1998-99 season.

Cavali's league that started with so much potential three years ago ultimately ended in a trail of broken promises.

"I think a lot of players were shocked," Potthoff said. "The owners promised us that they would at least finish the season. They promised more television time with the NBA strike, more season ticket sales and those things never developed."

The roots of the ABL's demise rested primarily in its failure to land a major television contract.

While the WNBA boasted major television deals with NBC, ESPN and Lifetime Cable Network, the ABL's revenue came solely from the Black Entertainment Television network. In fact, the biggest slap in the face of the ABL was suffered when the league was forced to pay CBS to televise two of this spring's previously scheduled games in the championship series.

Even worse, the ABL probably could not have paid fans to come see its games, as the WNBA outdrew its rival by an average of 6,000 fans per contest, due to a lack of the ABL's popularity.

"Colorado only drew 1,000 to 2,000 fans per game," Masley said. "We were always doing appearances. I did over 60 myself, people just didn't know about us. We were at everything -- from rodeos to baseball games to car washes. But it still wasn't enough."

For many like Potthoff, former ABL players quickly looked for opportunities to continue their basketball careers, either in the WNBA or overseas. Potthoff's agent, New York City-based Bruce Levey, did everything in his power to land all of his ABL clients jobs in basketball. But according to bankruptcy laws, he couldn't do anything.

For the rest of December and all of January, Potthoff was shackled to her contract with Columbus.

Although she was not getting paid, laws prohibited Potthoff from signing a deal because legally her rights still belonged to Columbus. Ironically, the loyalty between player and upper management that was the foundation of the ABL ultimately led to Potthoff's misfortune.

"It was just a philosophy that the players developed a loyalty to the ABL," Levey said. "You had a very close relationship between owners, management and players. It wasn't bullshit, it was the players' league.

"(Potthoff) has obviously been dealt a severe blow. She has really toughened up, and I think she will be a star in the WNBA," Levey continued. "She does so many things that don't show up in the box score, everything that Rene (Portland) told us about."

But for every rare story of success like Potthoff's there is the more common reality of players whose basketball-playing days have expired.

Masley is one of those players dealing with that reality.

Instead of giving ABL opponents fatal wounds with a last-second jump shot, Masley will now do the opposite and try to save people through medicine.

Next fall, Masley will return to where the roots of her collegiate playing days were laid. But this time, she will start a new chapter of her life, one that does not involve basketball.

By enrolling in the Penn State Hershey Medical Center, the memories of days as a professional athlete for Masley will officially become just that, memories.

But as she sits down in class in Hershey those memories will not soon be forgotten. Masley is one of a selective few that played for the first-ever professional women's basketball league, a league that Masley still takes pride in.

And if one wonders which league had the better talent, Masley will be quick to answer that question.

Just ask her.

"The ABL was just stacked, it's a lot better than the WNBA," Masley said. "It was like playing in the NBA as opposed to playing in pickup games. Most of the players in the WNBA were at tryouts for the ABL and just didn't make it."