Scott Adamson, Author at Adamsonmedia.com

Some trivia, just for kicks

As a former kicker (yeah, yeah … it was YMCA ball in 8^th grade, but still), field goals always pique my interest. And you might be interested to know it’s been almost 19 years since a pro football kicker has connected on a 4-point field goal.

If you’re an alt-football junkie, you already know by now that the United Football League released a new rules package for the 2026 season – one that includes a 4-point field goal. Yet, as creative as it is, it’s not unprecedented in tackle football.

**Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Bluesky @scottadamson1960.bsky.social**

The World League of American Football introduced the 4-pointer in 1995 as part of its all-European reboot.

The WLAF played two spring-summer seasons, 1991 and 1992, with 10 franchises, including seven in North America. The circuit – owned and operated by the National Football League – featured standard NFL rules for the most part. But after the WLAF flopped in U.S. markets, it went on hiatus for two years.

When it returned, the NFL decided to use it as a proving ground for rule innovations and the 4-point field goal was arguably it’s boldest experiment.

“We think the four-point play is an exciting rules change which is in keeping with the innovative style of the World League,” WLAF vice president of football operations Jerry Vanisi said.

Of course, while the UFL rule mandates that a field goal is worth four points from 60 yards or more, WLAF kickers needed only to split the pipes and clear the crossbar from 50 or better. (There weren’t nearly as many Cam Littles and Brandon Aubreys 30-plus years ago).

London’s Don Silvestri connected on the first successful 4-point field goal in WLAF history on May 7, 1995. He nailed a 52-yarder against the Scottish Claymores to open scoring in an 11-10 victory for the Monarchs.

The rule remained in place over the years as the WLAF morphed into NFL Europe and, finally, NFL Europa.

The last 4-pointer came in week 10 of the fifteenth and final season of the NFL-sponsored spring league. Rhys Lloyd of the Frankfurt Galaxy closed out scoring with a 50-yard field goal in a 31-14 victory over the Cologne Centurions on June 16, 2007.

Certainly, 4-point field goals will be divisive to old-schoolers, but what if you made kicks worth one, two or three points based on distance?

The World Football League did just that during the preseason of its ill-fated 1975 campaign.

Billy DeCarlis, chairman of the WFL rules committee, proposed that field goals inside the 10-yard line would count one point, tally two points from the 10 to the 30, and three points from 31 yards out or further.

The league was keen on deemphasizing scoring via the kick; touchdowns counted seven points and the PAT was eliminated in favor of an “action point” that required a run or pass for a single-point conversion.

“If a team were trailing by two points, it would have to use strategy, maybe even take a loss, to get the ball in position for a three point try,” DeCarlis told The Birmingham News in a May, 1975, article. “It would be a multiple choice type decision. Try to take it into the end zone, stay outside the zone, or kick immediately. It could eliminate running the clock down to get a chip shot field goal at the end.”

I had an in-person brush with this bit of history on July 12, 1975, when I watched the Birmingham Vulcans defeat the Portland Thunder, 25-9, in an exhibition contest at Legion Field.

Birmingham’s Ron Slovensky booted a 35-yard field goal late in the fourth quarter – good for two points.

However, if a rules committee ever wants to really mess with field goals (and the minds of football fans), they could try the WFL experiment in reverse. The job of the offense is to gain yards against the defense and move the ball toward the goal line, right?

So, to reward progressing down the field, a field goal inside the 10 would be worth three points, between the 11 and 30, two points, and anything beyond that, a single point.

I’ll show myself out …

Knock, knock, knock

Standing at the edge of the bed with the fur on his back standing at attention, Chester unleashed a series of ear-piercing barks. Those poses – and noises – were not uncommon for the high-spirited chihuahua, but such behavior at 3:45 a.m. on a Tuesday certainly was.

The ruckus caused both June Stockton and her husband, Belk, to rouse from their slumber.

“What is it, Chester?” Belk asked, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the matter, buddy?”

This time the couple heard the noise – three sharp knocks on the front door.

“Nobody should be knocking this late,” June said. “Or this early.”

Their “home protection system” consisted of an aluminum softball bat that occupied the corner of the bedroom near Belk, and he grabbed the weapon and raced toward the door. A look through the peephole revealed nothing, and when he returned to the bedroom, he saw that June had separated two blinds with her right finger and thumb to get a peek outside herself.

“I don’t see anything,” she said. “How about you?”

Belk shook his head.

“Not a thing. There was nobody out there … and it’s not like we have any bushes big enough for them to hide in.”

Chester had lost interest in the drama and returned to his spot under the covers.

“Could we be mistaken?” June wondered. “I mean, we both think we heard a knock, but we were barely awake. Plus, we’ve lived here less than a year. I suppose it could be house noises we aren’t accustomed to yet.”

“Well, Chester heard something … and I’m pretty sure that something was a knock on the door – three knocks. That’s a strange prank to play on someone, though, especially in the dead of night. I’m gonna go out the back door and sneak toward the front yard and look around.”

When he did, Belk spied nothing unusual. The cul-de-sac was quiet and, best he could figure, all the occupants were inside their own homes. He made his way back in to the bedroom, placed the bat in its customary spot and crawled back onto bed. He leaned over and gave June a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s way too early to get up,” he said. “Let’s try to get at least a couple more hours sleep … if they come back, I’m pretty sure Chester will let us know.”

By morning the incident had been mostly forgotten, and when the pair turned the lights out for the evening, it was never mentioned.

Then came the barking at 3:45 a.m. on Wednesday.

Just as had occurred the night before, Belk and June were startled awake by Chester’s frantic yapping, which preceded three more sharp knocks on the door. This time Belk wasted no time. He snatched the bat from the corner, raced to the front door and quickly pulled it open.

When he did, he was greeted by … absolutely nothing.

He ran several feet out onto the sidewalk and surveyed the yard, but no creature stirred.

He came back in, made sure to lock the door after slamming it shut, and shrugged.

“Gotta give ‘em credit,” he said. “Whoever it is, they’re quite the speedster. The second they finished knocking they must’ve ran off like a bat outta hell.”

“Later today we should check with the neighbors and find out if something similar has been happening to them,” June said. “It’s just … just really unsettling.”

After breakfast Belk grabbed the trash bin at the back of the driveway and pulled up toward the street for pickup. His next door neighbor, Andrew, was doing the same.

“Morning!” Andrew shouted, giving Belk a wave.

“Morning. Hey, Andrew … have you guys had anything weird happening in the middle of the night?

“How do you mean?”

“Well, two nights in a row somebody has knocked on our door at a quarter of four. Chester starts barking like crazy, but by the time I get there they’re gone. I thought maybe somebody was pranking everybody in the cul de sac. Guess it’s just us.”

Andrew raised his brow.

“That’s funny … well, funny odd,” he said. “The old guy that used to live in your house – Paul Proctor was his name – he’d come home blind drunk in the middle of the night and couldn’t ever seem to get his keys to work. He’d wind up banging on the door so his wife would have to let him in. He had a dog, too, and it would start barking, and that’s what woke her up. She’d come open the door for him and man, she’d get so pissed. He drank a lot, so it happened a lot.”

Belk rubbed his chin.

“Drunks do stupid stuff. Could it be the guy still drinks at a bar around here? If that’s the case, maybe he thinks he still lives here.”

Andrew laughed.

“I seriously doubt that,” Andrew said. “Paul just passed away. As a matter of fact, I think his funeral was on Monday.”

The NFL’s first frantic February

Super Bowl LX is today, meaning people who don’t know the difference between football and foosball will still be tuning in to the event. And make no mistake about it – it is an event, with 60 minutes of gridiron action augmented (and sometimes overshadowed) by music, marketing and talking – lots and lots of talking.

But while February 8, 2026, will see the Seattle Seahawks and New England Patriots battle for the Lombardi Trophy, February 8, 1926, was also a pretty big day in NFL history.

On that date, newspapers across the United States reported that the head of the newly-anointed NFL champion Chicago Cardinals had taken a pass on his team being declared champion. Plus, a new football league was being formed to challenge the National Football League.

That’s a lot to unpack, so let’s open the suitcase …

One hundred years ago, NFL owners held their winter meetings in Detroit. Among the agreements reached for the 2026 season included banning college players from playing in the NFL until their class had graduated; limiting league clubs to scheduling no more than two games per week; upping guarantee money from $1,000 to $1,500, with one percent of gate receipts going to a league fund; increasing team roster size from 16 to 18 players; and reelecting NFL President Joseph Carr for a new three-year term (at $5,000 per year).

“Professional football successfully passed its crisis at the Detroit meeting,” Green Bay Packers president A.B. Turnbull proclaimed to the Green Bay Press-Gazette. “It was the unanimous opinion of the delegates that some drastic steps were necessary and those in attendance lost little time in putting across several regulations that will be of benefit to the postgraduate sport.”

Those “regulations” were interesting, but pale in comparison to the main headlines.

For openers, Carr decided to dethrone the Pottsville Maroons, who finished the 1925 season with a 10-2 NFL record. They were 13-2 overall, counting exhibition conquests of independent Colwyn Darby, Eastern League foe Atlantic Roses, and the Notre Dame All-Stars (featuring Harry Stuhldreher, Don Miller, Jim Crowley and Elmer Layden of “Four Horsemen” fame).

However, the franchise violated the territorial rights of the Frankford Yellowjackets by playing the Notre Dame exhibition in Philadelphia, an offense Carr found so grievous that he suspended the Maroons, stripped them of their title and awarded it to the Cardinals (who lost to Pottsville, 21-7, in 2025).

But … Chicago owner Chris O’Brien declined the honor. The Cardinals, in fact, were on probation for suiting up four high school players in a 2025 contest. He said that sanction – and the fact that Pottsville had been removed from the league – convinced him it would be wrong to accept a crown. He wanted a championship “clearly won on the field of play.”

Thus, league owners voted that there would be no champion for the 1925 season.

Turns out, the NFL had even bigger concerns.

On February 7 it was revealed that a new football league would be formed in Chicago later in the month. C.C. Pyle, manager of superstar Red Grange (who played with the Chicago Bears in 1925), made the announcement when he was denied a franchise in New York.

While Pyle – who had a lease with Yankee Stadium – said the majority of owners were fine with a second team in America’s First City, New York Giants officials blocked the move.

“There is room for two teams in New York, just as there is in Chicago,” Pyle told the Associated Press.

On February 18, Pyle announced that Grange would be the main attraction for the New York Football Yankees of the American League of Professional Football. Philadelphia and Milwaukee were also granted franchises, with St. Louis, Cleveland and Boston awarded conditional franchises.

So, by the end of February, the National Football League found itself without a defending champion and also had to fend off a challenge from another circuit showcasing the sport’s biggest draw in Grange.

O’Brien, however, was confident the senior organization would prevail.

“We have most of the high class stars under contract and a war chest of which we draw, and we certainly intend to protect our investment to the best of our financial ability,” he said in an interview with the Green Bay Press-Gazette. “If the newcomers think they can break in without a fight, they are welcome to try it.”

A century later, it’s obvious things have turned out just fine for the NFL.

Pyle’s circuit lasted only one season, although his Yankees were granted admission to the NFL for 1927. They folded after two seasons, and Grange returned to the Bears in 1929. Frankford – pictured at the top of this article – won the 1926 NFL championship with a 14-1-2 record and nary a hint of controversy.

The National League has held off all challengers ever since. Its biggest, coming from the modern American Football League, resulted in a full merger that went into effect in 1970. Now at 32 clubs and an international brand, it’s hard to imagine any serious future competition.

And as for that vacated title in 1925, well, the NFL officially awarded it to the Chicago Cardinals in 1963.

Travel to the Borough of Pottstown, Pennsylvania, however, and you might find there remains some disagreement over that decision.