In the early 1980s, Congress was looking into the issue of franchise relocation in sports. On December 10, 1981, George Halas, the Chicago Bears’ owner and one of the founders of the NFL, appeared before a Congressional committee to explain the evolution of the NFL. It was a powerful statement on the importance of the partnership between NFL clubs. As we close the twentieth century, the message remains largely unchanged. Here, in the words of George Halas, are the essential structural elements that have made the NFL the most successful sports league of the century:

I am George Halas of the Chicago Bears Football Club. I was born February 2, 1895, in Chicago. Chicago has been my home for 86 years. I was graduated from the University of Illinois in 1918 with a degree in engineering. I served my country in the United States Navy for 12 months during World War I and for 39 months during World War II.

With your permission, I would like to give you a brief sketch of my 61 years in professional football and my 60 years in our league and the purposes of both—they are one and the same.

My love for football began when I was 14. I played football in high school, in college, for the Navy, and as a professional.

In March of 1920, I was employed by the C, B & Q railroad. I received a call from the representative of Mr. A. E. Staley of Decatur, Illinois—the man who built an empire on his faith in God, his fellow man, and in corn and soybeans. Would I move to Decatur and work for Staley? I would learn to make starch and begin a lifetime career in a fast-growing concern. Would I take charge of the company athletics? I would be in baseball, football, and, if I so desired, basketball. I had the opportunity to build a winning football team. This was the magnet! My salary? I don’t remember.

Little did I realize Mr. Staley was opening a tremendous future for me and the influence this great man’s wisdom, example, and counsel would have on my life. My realization increases with each passing year.

I wasted no time. March 28, 1920, I began to learn how to make starch and to have Mr. Staley’s counsel. He told me good products could only be made from good material. He told me one must have solid preparation for any task. His influence colored my life. My professional career started. I am still working at it.

The Staley team was successful. Paid football was not. I knew we needed an organization. I wrote Ralph Hay, manager of the Canton Bulldogs. He agreed with me. He had already discussed this with Stan Cofall of the Massillon Tigers. Meetings ensued and then on September 17, 1920, 12 independent teams met in Canton, Ohio, in Ralph Hay’s automobile showroom. Chairs were few. I sat on the running board of a Hupmobile. All agreed we needed a league. In two hours, our league, The American Professional Football Association, was born.

First on the agenda of our new league was to issue franchises. All 12 teams present were franchised at $100 each. As a matter of interest, no team had that much money so no payments were made. Twelve members and an unpaid capital of $1,200 hailed the birth of our league. Jim Thorpe was elected president.

Our league for me was then—and still is—best exemplified as a wheel. In 1920, we were 12 independent spokes. But spokes, if they are to serve a useful purpose and make a contribution, must have a rim. A spoke may weaken, even break, but the rim prevents collapse. Our league was and is our rim. The credo of sharing became the foundation of our league. On this foundation, professional football was built. This sharing concept was unprecedented in sport.

I will tell you of just a few instances of this sharing over these 60 years.

Scheduling

Competition is the lifeblood of sports. In the early years of professional football, each team lined up its opponents. This schedule could be—and often was—changed at any time during the playing season. Naturally, each team wanted to play a team which would draw the most fans. What was happening was that only the best teams would compete with each other. It reached the point where the Giants, Green Bay, and the Bears (the most successful teams) became the most sought-after teams to play. Some of our spokes were weakening. Our wheel was getting wobbly.

In 1941, we went from individual-team scheduling to a system of the member clubs scheduling their next season during a league meeting. Actually, it was the same story. The Bears only wanted to play outstanding teams as did the other top teams. This system proved nothing. Our wobbly wheel was not conducive to longevity for either good or bad teams.

We had to have official scheduling. The member clubs authorized our league president to set the schedule. (The title commissioner was not used until 1941.) Our league’s scheduling procedure was formally established in 1957. This scheduling procedure is still in effect. Our league’s action made the season—as much as the games of individual teams—of particular interest to the fans. By making the season more interesting to the fans, this action benefited each member club and helped to stabilize each club. Our credo of sharing shored up our wobbly spokes and made the wheel run more smoothly.

The Draft

Club competition, in relation to the acquisition of players, was stifling the life of the lesser teams. Winning teams had more money to attract players, and naturally players only wanted to affiliate with the wealthier teams and the winning teams. The weaker teams could only take what was left.

This was causing the strong teams to become stronger and the weak teams weaker. Our wheel was wobbling dangerously. Some of our spokes were seriously weakened, and the support of our rim was being jeopardized. Has a familiar ring, doesn’t it?

We member clubs met. Tim Mara of the Giants and I had the most to lose. A draft system was proposed. Tim and I enthusiastically supported the draft system, and in 1935 our draft system became official. Simply put, the team that finished last in the season would get the first draft choice. Our draft was a major key to a team’s future greatness and stability. Our draft system has increased competition. This has created larger audiences, which has increased each club’s revenue, which has enabled each club to pay larger player salaries, and that has made it feasible for our league to enlarge its operations by bringing NFL football to new communities. Our credo of sharing, as administered by our league, again preserved the continued operation of the individual clubs.

Financial

On the subject of club financial problems, I will confine my remarks to the 40-plus years of hand-to-mouth existence of the Chicago Bears. In so doing, I will tell you of identical financial pictures for the majority of the member clubs in our league.

After the formation of our league, nothing could dissuade me from my belief in professional football and its future. Thank God, my belief was unshakable because I was constantly buffeted by the unalterable truth that football was expensive.

October 1, 1920, Mr. Staley asked me to come to his office. He told me of the recession that was affecting the nation’s economy and, thus, his company. He told me for this reason he could no longer continue to underwrite the team’s dollar losses. It was then he told me only large cities could support professional football. Next came the words that charted the course of my professional life: "George, why don’t you take the team to Chicago?" He told me he would give me $5,000 to help me. With all his problems he was thinking about me and my future. I knew then that this same concern must become the main ingredient of the Chicago Bears and the spine of professional football. It became our league’s credo— sharing.

I returned to Chicago. Mr. Staley asked that the team be called the Chicago Staleys for one more year. After that, the name was up to me. His one provision—there was no time limit—was that the team must conduct itself on and off the field in a manner that would always reflect credit on the Staley name. I made this a team rule. This rule still stands.

Each season began with more enthusiasm. Each season ended with better football. Each season ended with mounting financial problems. I had to borrow money at the onset of each season to keep my Bears afloat. This was a financial pattern for me that continued until 1955.

My faith in my Bears has always been limitless. So, too, is my belief in a man’s word. Our ticket sales increased with each season, but club operating expenses always exceeded our income. In my first years of borrowing, I had no security to offer. My words were my collateral. Actually, it was just an implied collateral, for no formal papers were ever drawn. Each season I promised to repay my loan. Each season I kept my promise.

Three times in my life I looked to other sources for extra funds for my Bears. I tried real estate. The stock market crash quickly and emphatically ended this venture. I had a part interest in a laundry. I had half interest in a catalog jewelry/sporting goods business. These ventures spanned a few years and were only to aid my Bears. I gave IOUs to my players and, on occasion, had to give an IOU to the visiting team. Before we were married, Mrs. Halas had put all her savings—$700—into Liberty bonds. It reached the point where Min had to cash in her bonds and give me the money for our Bears. I even emptied the piggy banks of my daughter and son. I repaid Min and I repaid my children. I redeemed all my IOUs. It was years of scratching to just keep my Bears afloat. Then, in 1947, came television.

The late Don Maxwell of the Chicago Tribune insisted I explore television as to its benefits for football. At no time did I give any thought to its financial impact.

First, I paid a local station to televise a few home games. We had a sponsor. He paid us $900 per game. We broke even. In 1951, the Bears went with the Dumont Network. We lost money. In 1952, the Bears went with ABC and made a small profit. Now, I began to see television in the light of financial aid. Beginning in 1953, our television rights were bought by ABC and CBS, and the Bears had a guaranteed season income. My financial picture was much better.

But history was repeating itself. The lesser teams were not attractive to the networks. I knew television was the financial lifeblood of my Bears. I also knew that without regional competition television would soon lose interest in football. Once again, our wheel was wobbling.

We turned to our league and the powers invested in it. In 1961, our Commissioner signed a contract with the television networks to cover league games. A ruling was handed down that this contract violated the terms of an earlier court decree, and we could not go forward with the contract. The late Senator Everett Dirksen and other far-sighted leaders took exception to this decision, and a bill was passed legalizing single-network contracts. The late President John F. Kennedy signed this bill into law. Negotiations began anew. A contract was signed, the income to be divided equally among the member clubs. A new financial era had opened. Television solved my yearly financial worries as it did for other clubs.

We also had regional competition, which was so necessary for public interest and for our survival. Again our credo of sharing benefited each member club.

I would like to leave you with these thoughts:

Throughout my life, I have tried to honor the trust Mr. Staley placed in me. I have also tried to keep alive—and guard—the grassroots commandments of our league and its reasons for being. We 12 men who started our league had great ambitions and dreams for our league. We knew our dreams would come true and our ambitions would be realized only if we guarded our league’s structure, which was our foundation.

Over the years, I have been called many unflattering names—even unconstitutional— because I would not—and will not—bend to the demands of the times or the whims of fleeting popularity, both of which would have—and will—mock the mantle of responsibility handed down to me over the years by my 11 associates at the meeting on September 17, 1920.

I have devoted all my energies to professional football. No other business enterprises command my attention. No other professions demand my time. When I returned to civilian life after World War II, I was asked to run for Congress with the guaranteed backing of the Chicago Tribune. I declined. I would not and could not walk out on my responsibilities to my profession, my Bears, and our NFL.

In 60 years, I have watched our ugly duckling grow into a majestic eagle. The majesty of our eagle has grown because of our sharing and because those who were and are responsible for our league’s development recognized that our rim is more important than any one spoke. There have been, there are, and there always will be negative voices inside our league and outside. Voices which would tear down what it has taken 60 years to build. Some of these voices speak solely from self-interest, others from lack of understanding, but they are all negative voices. These voices serve no public interests, no fan interests, and no community interests.

My parents immigrated to America from Bohemia so they could live in a country where human dignity and work would have its rewards and where they could live and die under the flag of freedom. My brothers, my sister, and I were well taught by them to make use of all the opportunities this country offered.

The National Football League was not and is not an accident. Our league did and does demand hard work, planning, experimentation, and solid management. Our league will continue to grow and bring professional football to new communities only if the foundation and principles on which it was built are permitted to survive.