Here to serve

The soup kitchen at the recreation center on Redemption Avenue was especially busy two weeks before the Thanksgiving holiday, and Nate Raimi was spooning out his vegetable medley special just as fast as he possibly could.

“How’s it going, buddy?” he said to the bearded man whose shaky hands were holding a Styrofoam bowl. “I threw in some navy beans in this batch, and I think it might be the best soup we’ve had in a while. There’s bread and tea over there on the table … and feel free to come back for seconds. Or thirds.”

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

Two years earlier, Raimi had met with an official from the World Metahuman Clearinghouse in hopes of getting funding for a project designed to help him spread compassion throughout the world.

Working under the not-so-secret identity of “Compassion-Nate,” his superpower was setting off a chain reaction of empathy to all those he encountered. Unfortunately, the WMC not only refused his request for a grant, but he soon learned the group wasn’t interested in his brand of heroism.

A world full of compassionate people would lessen the need for superheroes, and that was bad for their business. Thus, some of the more cut-throat officials were determined to stop him – by any means necessary.

Despite the threat, Nate still did what he could, and bringing a bit of hope to people who had little or none was why he spent much of his time as a volunteer.

Yet, while serving those in need took up a good bit of his time, he was also learning all he could about Clancy Orion.

Orion had become an internet sensation when he prevented a drunk driver from hitting a group of children at a playground. The social media world dubbed him “Captain Hysterical” after he claimed his ability to crumple the front end of the vehicle and stop it cold was due to high adrenaline, or “hysterical strength.”

Nate discovered that was not the case. Orion was actually an extraterrestrial from the planet Wolf 1061c who had been on earth for a decade. There was a significant number of superheroes who feared he was the vanguard of an imminent Wolfian invasion, although Nate was not among them. He looked for the best in people – human or alien – and Orion’s actions suggested he was here to help rather than harm.

Captain Hysterical was an observer, perhaps, but not an occupier.

Today’s immediate concern, however, was feeding the hungry, and assisting Nate in that endeavor was an old friend, known in crimefighting circles – appropriately enough – as “Old Man.” O.M., as Nate calls him, had gained a bit of notoriety when he apprehended Professor Purloin at Rickman Plaza back in 2023. However, he was quickly forgotten as Spectacular Man and Frau the Fearless dominated headlines with their flashy uniforms and over-the-top theatrics while catching more colorful villains.

Older people often go unnoticed, which worked to his advantage, but it also meant Old Man found himself on the outside looking in lately when the world needed a hero.

With his services no longer wanted, he showed up every weekday at the soup kitchen to lend Nate a hand. Of course, his guise made him look more like a customer than a volunteer – a ragged Jaxon cap, blue and red flannel shirt, and polyester pants pulled up almost to his nipples.

“Hey, O.M., do you mind going back to the kitchen and checking on the soup?” Nate asked. “We’re getting near the bottom of this pot.”

Old Man nodded.

“On it. I ever tell you about the time I used a can of minestrone to stop a grocery store robbery?” said O.M., whose rambling stories would often throw evildoers off their game and allow him to take the upper hand. “Rascal walked in and pulled out a pistol while I was on aisle 5A – that’s the soup, rice and beans aisle – so I grabbed a can of low sodium minestrone, took aim, and clocked him right in the noggin. He went down like one of them Jenga towers and I moseyed on over and kicked his weapon away. You remember what I told the police when they showed up?”

Nate chuckled.

“I do … but you’re gonna tell me again, anyway.”

“I said to the officer, I said, ‘The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a can of soup.’ He got a chuckle out of that. And you gotta admit … it’s a dang good line. Probably shoulda copyrighted it now that I think about it. Superheroes need a catchphrase.”

As O.M. made his way toward the kitchen the feeding line kept forming, and Nate noticed a smartly dressed woman walk through the front door.

Maisie Petra was well-known around the rec center. She was a homicide detective and could often be seen cruising through the neighborhood, one that she had grown up in and still cared for.

What wasn’t well-known was that she was also Violet Femme, a crusading hero who often clashed with the sinister Havoc Club. She had actually worked with Old Man on a few jobs, but her encounters with Nate had mostly been “off the clock” and informal. He provided a shoulder to cry on when her crimefighting partner, Yellowhammer, was killed, and the two had stayed in touch ever since.

On this afternoon, however, she had some business to discuss with the man furiously ladling soup.

“Care to try my special, detective?” he asked.

“I know it’s delicious, but I had an early lunch,” she said. “When you get a minute, though, I’d like to talk to you about something. I understand you have some information I might be interested in hearing.”

Old Man was just coming out of the kitchen with a huge pot of soup and lit up when he saw Maisie.

“Hiya, kid!” he chirped. “This ain’t a raid, is it? If so, you’re too late. Poker game broke up more than an hour ago.”

Maisie laughed and, after O.M. put the soup down on the serving table, walked over to give him a hug.

“You taking care of yourself, Old Man? I see you’re still a fashion plate.”

O.M. pulled his pants even higher.

“Never needed a fancy costume,” he said. “Just gimme some thrift store britches and a bad guy to bamboozle, and I’m raring to go. Anyway, I overheard you saying you need to talk to Nate … forgot I had my hearing aid set on supersonic.”

O.M. grabbed the ladle from Nate.

“Go talk to your girlfriend,” he said with a wink. “I got this.”

Maisie and Nate stepped toward the back of the rec center and he produced a thumb drive.

“This has everything we know about Clancy Orion,” he said.

“Lots of interesting stuff on there. I guess for our purposes, though, the headline is that he can only eat tomatoes.”

Nate handed the thumb drive to Maisie.

“Please keep this between us, Maisie,” he said. “I’ll let O.M. know. Oh … and I’ll be in touch about Thanksgiving.”

Maisie waved at Old Man as she left, and Nate returned to take control of the soup ladle.

“Well?” O.M. asked.

“Well, I let her know he can only eat tomatoes, which changes our meal plan a bit,” Nate said. “But, we’ll make it work.”

O.M. gently patted Nate on this hand.

“You’re a good egg, my boy. You think he’ll accept your invitation? If I was him I’d be a little paranoid, especially with everything going on at WMC … and the world.”

Nate nodded.

“I’m pretty sure he knows who we are and knows our intentions. I hope he comes … he’s lightyears from home, and Thanksgiving can be a tough time. I hate to see anybody spend it alone.”

These characters were featured in earlier flash fiction pieces. In case you forgot them, here are links to their origin stories.

Dempsey’s ‘miracle’ kick

Cam Little’s 68-yard field goal against the Las Vegas Raiders last Sunday set a new NFL record, so the Jacksonville Jaguars kicker now stands alone with the longest three-pointer in league history.

But for how long?

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

His effort was of the “no doubt about it” variety, meaning it would’ve been good from 70 yards – a mark he had already met in a preseason game, incidentally. It was an impressive feat, and something he’ll always remember.

Thing is, though, it’s not gonna stand … not for any significant length of time, anyway. It might be broken later this season – or even as early as tomorrow. What once seemed next to impossible is now a probability.

The former record holder was Justin Tucker, whose 66-yard boot set a new standard back in 2021.

But this year alone there have been six field goals made from 60-plus yards, and 22 kickers have split the pipes from at least 55 yards away.

On October 19, both Dallas’ Brandon Aubrey and Green Bay’s Lucas Havrisik drilled 61-yard field goals, marking the first time in NFL history two 60-plus yarders had been made on the same day.

Yet, there was a time when a ball that cleared the crossbar from that distance was the ultimate rarity – and that time was November 8, 1970.

The lowly New Orleans Saints – on their way to a 2-11-1 worksheet in their fourth NFL season – trailed the Detroit Lions, 17-16, with just two seconds left in the game.

Instead of opting for a long bomb in hopes of a miracle finish, New Orleans boss J.D. Roberts (in his first game as head man after Tom Fears was fired) called Tom Dempsey’s number.

The 264-pound second-year kicker out of Palomar Junior College was asked to attempt a 63-yard field goal, which seemed ridiculous.

The longest field goal in league history was 56 yards, that set in 1956 by Baltimore’s Bert Rechichar in the Colts’ 13-9 victory over the Chicago Bears.

But long odds were hardly new to Dempsey, who was born with a congenital condition that left him with no toes on his right foot and no fingers on his right hand.

In fact, he wore a specially designed (and NFL-approved) shoe that featured a 1 ¾-inch-leather block at the toe. The 23-year-old had a powerful right leg, and the sporting world was about to learn just how strong it was.

So, with the ball at the Saints 45 (goal posts were located on the goal line in 1970), the snap to Joe Scarpati was placed down at the 37.

Sixty-three yards and an inch or two later, New Orleans had a 19-17 victory and the Crescent City had a new folk hero.

“We were beaten by a miracle,” Detroit coach Joe Schmidt said.

There were 66,920 fans at Tulane Stadium that day, and I’m guessing most claim to have witnessed the “miracle.” But Detroit’s Errol Mann made an 18-yard field goal 12 seconds earlier, sending thousands of them toward the exits.

“I knew I could kick the ball that far, but whether or not I could kick it straight kept running through my mind,” Dempsey told the Associated Press. “I knew I had to hit the ball awfully hard and would need a little extra time.

“There’s so much involved in kicking a 60-yard field goal. You’ve got to try and hit the ball as hard as you possibly can, and yet, kicking it straight is a hard thing to do. It just happened that I hit it right that time and it happened at the right time.”

Dempsey had already kicked three field goals in the game and wanted to try a 55-yarder earlier.

“We didn’t let him kick that shorter one,” Roberts told AP. “He was upset and I said, ‘Well, if you think you can get high trajectory on it, we’ll kick a long one a little later.’ But I didn’t think it would be that long.”

Who would have?

Certainly none of the Detroit players.

“Tom Dempsey didn’t kick that field goal,” Lions linebacker Wayne Walker said. “God kicked it.”

But no good deed goes unpunished, and three days after Dempsey’s historic kick, Dallas Cowboys president Tex Schramm said he was going to protest the use of Dempsey’s shoe. Schramm’s reasoning was that it gave the kicker an unfair advantage because of its sledgehammer-like design.

There was immediate backlash at the suggestion someone born with basically half a foot had an “advantage,” and Schramm withdrew his protest on November 13.

“It was a mistake and bad timing on my part,” Schramm said in an interview with The Times-Picayune of New Orleans. “I will not pursue it. I want to apologize to Tom Dempsey, the Saints and the people of New Orleans for the impression my remarks created. It was not my intent whatsoever to criticize Tom. That 63-yarder was a heck of an accomplishment and a tremendous tribute to him.”

(As a quick aside, in 1977 the NFL made a rule mandating that “… any shoe that is worn by a player with an artificial limb on his kicking leg must have a kicking surface that conforms to that of a normal kicking shoe.” It became known as the Tom Dempsey Rule, although Dempsey had no artificial limbs).

In 1992, the Detroit Free Press asked Dempsey to look back on his accomplishment.

“I always practiced kicking from 65 yards away,” he said. “Lots of times I’d kicked 70-yard field goals in practice, so I didn’t pay any attention to the distance on this kick.

“All I noticed was the goalposts looked a little small.”

The record stood for 43 years, although Denver’s Jason Elam tied it in 1998. It was broken by Broncos kicker Matt Prater’s 64-yard field goal against the Tennessee Titans on December 8, 2013.

Still, for those of us “old school” fans, Dempsey’s achievement remains one of the truly great moments in National Football League history.

CoFL making a bold move

When a new football league comes along, it has to accomplish one major task to pique my interest – shake up the rulebook.

Mike Kelly, commissioner of the new Continental Football League, has done more than that. He put the rulebook in a blender and flipped the switch to “high.”

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

When the reimagined CoFL takes the field next summer, games will feature the “Continental Shift” starting with the fourth quarter of every contest. At that point, the American football rules that have been used for the first three quarters will be abandoned. In their place will be Canadian Football League-style action: three downs to make 10 yards, all backs allowed in motion toward the line of scrimmage, defenses lining up a yard off the ball, no fair catches, and even the single point rouge.

It took me a couple of minutes, but my reaction to this fantastic tweak went from “Eh, this might too much” to “No, this is absolutely brilliant.” I mean, if you’re gonna be bold, be very bold. (And admittedly, it doesn’t hurt that I’m a huge CFL fan).

“The Continental Shift will give the fans a new perspective if they have not already experienced the CFL style of play, and it doesn’t allow a team in the lead to run out the clock, so there is always a chance for a wild outcome,” Kelly said. “The shift also gives CFL scouts an opportunity to evaluate the skill sets that suit their style of play, and we’ve been in preliminary discussion with organizations in Canada that have interest in joining our league.

“As for other changes, we’re currently discussing altering the severity of particular penalties and adjusting the distance imposed.”

Kelly has coaching experience at the college, CFL and original XFL level, and was head coach of the CFL Winnipeg Blue Bombers in 2009. His administrative work came in the NFL and CFL, and now he wants to apply his across-the-board knowledge to a new organization that plans to begin play with eight clubs in June, 2026.

But I had to ask … why revive the Continental League brand?

“My first inclination was nostalgia,” he explained. “My father took me to games in my hometown in Connecticut to see the Waterbury Orbits in the mid-1960s, and it made a lasting impression on me. This was my team, in my town, and these were local heroes that I could actually see firsthand.

Secondly, there is void that needs to be filled. Forty-three percent of all student-athletes entering the NCAA transfer portal do not find a new home. Now what? 

“This is their opportunity to continue to play and to be seen by scouts in the National Football League and the Canadian Football League, and we’re currently investigating if they can return to the NCAA because of  our structure. Now, we’re giving them a chance to fulfill their goals and aspirations.”

While minor league football has often been viewed as a last chance platform for athletes, the CoFL aims to be more of a first look showcase. It isn’t shying away from the “developmental” label at all.

 “We will go to camp with 50 players, 25 of whom will be mandated to be between the ages of 18 and 25,” Kelly said. “This is not ‘mercenary’ football with older players holding on to false hope. This is an opportunity league. Think AA minor league baseball … an opportunity to grow and mature and provide an answer to, ‘Where can I get a chance?’”

As of now the league has identified three of its franchises – the Ohio Valley Ironmen, San Antonio Toros and Texas Syndicate.

Ohio Valley, based in Wheeling, West Virginia, is not only a callback to the original CoFL, but trading up from the dumpster fire that is (was?) the International Football Alliance, where it began play in 2025.

The Toros name also has roots in the CoFL as well as the Texas Football League, Trans-American Football League, Southwestern Football League and Mid-American Football League.

The Syndicate will be based in Austin.

“We’ll start with four teams in each division, North and South,” Kelly said. “The idea is regional travel keeping overhead low and creating rivalries. We would like the locations to be no more than an eight hour bus ride between cities. A home and away will be played within the division with No. 1 playing No. 2 in a division final, and then the division winners playing for the league title. That will be the only real travel cost incurred. 

“As we grow, and the interest we’re receiving from all over the country tells us we’ve struck a chord, we’ll look to build divisions under the aforementioned premise.”

As for the rest of the 2026 club lineup, Kelly is steering clear of major markets.

“We want to go into underserved communities,” he said. “Small to mid-sized cities that have a municipal stadium that’s not producing the type of revenue it could or should be. We want to play in smaller venues of 5,000 to maybe 12,000 seats, so the fans feel a real connection to the players and their team … provide that grassroots, hometown feel where a family can go and enjoy a night out and see professional football.”

In recent years start-ups have eyed the spring, but Kelly thinks a short June-July slate will be a perfect lead-in to the “traditional” football season.

“Going to minor league baseball games in the summer is so much fun, but football is a game like no other and we are playing at a time when the summer is really starting and that excitement of relaxed warm nights and taking the family out is appealing,” Kelly said. “Our timeframe also serves a purpose. We’ll conclude the season by the third week of July. That provides the players, those that have attracted attention by the NFL or CFL, to have time to enter an NFL camp. And there is a roster shift in the CFL that happens around Labor Day that also easily gives our players a chance to sign on to some form of a roster spot. The fans also have the opportunity to buy into the franchise as minority owners. 

“Now they are truly looking at ‘their team.’ Local advisory boards will also be implemented so that the franchise can address the concerns of the fans and minority owners to make the gameday experience what they desire.”

Kelly adds that teams will be stocked with players familiar to the fans.

“Each team will have territorial rights to players, so now when you go to a game, you’ll recognize names from local universities and high schools and truly embracing hometown heroes. We’ll be part of the fabric of your town.”

And being the fabric of a town means teams will be based in the cities they represent; there will be no central hub.

“Our players will be housed in each community,” Kelly stresses. “It’s mandated that the franchises incorporate the players into the community. Fan appreciation events, charitable endeavors … we want these players invested into the town. We will assist and encourage players to network and find employment in the community to build their work/professional resume reflective of their degree attained so that when their playing career has come to a conclusion, they have strengthened their resumes.

“That makes for a smooth transition into the workforce and hopefully some will remain in the community, someday bringing their own kids to see where daddy once played.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah … I realize the sports graveyard is full of leagues that looked good on the drawing board but either never got off the ground or crashed almost immediately. Odds of success are long.

But counting the USFL/XFL combo that is now the United Football League – a venture heading into a fifth season in 2026 – survival is possible.

And Kelly’s gameplan is intriguing enough to make me anxious to see it become reality.

So, here’s hoping when next June rolls around, I’ll have identified a Continental Football League side to cheer for. Regardless, it’s a safe bet that my biggest cheer will be reserved for the Continental Shift.

For more information about the CoFL, go to coflfootball.com