While watching college football games from the mid-80s to mid-90s for the "Let's Remember Some Games" series, one of the most difficult—and fun—parts of the game to track has been the myriad tweaks to the kicking rules. For instance, from 1948-88, placekickers were allowed to use a tee on extra points and field goals in the NCAA. The goalposts were also five feet wider from 1959-90 than the current standard.

As we saw in the 1985 Notre Dame game, these rules made kickers like John Carney serious threats once their offenses crossed midfield. They were even bigger long-range threats before 1978, when all missed field goals were treated like touchbacks—opponent's ball at their 20-yard line—instead of giving the opponent the ball at the previous line of scrimmage. Watching that game led me to look up the kicking tee rules, which in turn led me to this incredibly comprehensive page of the longest field goals in history, one that also details rule changes and how each kick was made. They even have high school kicks.

You can get lost in that page and looking up related tidbits for hours. Before I get into the ostensible purpose of this post, a quick and not at all comprehensive list of amazing facts contained therein:

1. As you'd suspect, most of the longest field goals come from prior to 1978, when kickers used two-inch tees (they'd been one inch until 1964) and teams didn't face huge field position consequences for attempting long bombs. The record across all divisions is a nice 69 yards by NAIA Abilene Christian's Ove Johansson in 1976, the Swede's only season playing college ball after transitioning from soccer. He went 1-for-4 on field goals for the Philadelphia Eagles before moving on to a career in business.
2. The very next person on the list is Dirk Borgognone, who crushed a 68-yarder for Reno High School in 1985. It was the only field goal of his football career.
3. This passage: "In early 1920's Cornell had players build a hill of dirt and more than one player thus held the ball higher for the placekicker. Referees eventually called this a penalty."
4. Steve Rainey, playing on a 7-on-7 flag football team in 1991, made a 67-yard field goal off a one-inch wood block tee—barefoot. It's the longest barefoot kick on record. Also, I told you this list was comprehensive.
5. I urge you to read the newspaper report after Princeton's John Triplett Haxall booted a 65-yarder against Yale at the Polo Grounds in 1882.
6. Ten years later, Birmingham A.C.'s J.P. Ross connected from 65 yards on a drop kick, the longest such kick in history. They beat Alabama, 5-4. The Tide's occasional run-in with horrible kicking luck dates back to the 19th century.
7. In 2002, Ola Kimrin made a 65-yard field goal in the preseason for the Denver Broncos, which would be an NFL record if it had occurred in the regular season. Denver released him after the game.
8. Big Ten, baby: "62 yards Pat O'Dea, Wisconsin (W 47-0) at Northwestern, 11/24/1898 (drop-kick)  [in blizzard] (also has never to be broken longest punt: 110 yards, 1898)  [also kicked 60 yarder in Australia, see below, • Only player to do so in both lands.]"
9. A semi-pro player named Fabrizio Scaccia had a 62-yarder wiped out by an illegal formation penalty. No word on whether he quit on the spot, unfortunately.
10. Michigan State's Ralf Mojsiejenko had a 60-yard kick nullified by a penalty in the 1984 Cherry Bowl, held at the Pontiac Silverdome. He missed the ensuing 65-yarder. State lost to Army, 10-6.

I could go on for ages, but it's time to focus on the real point of this post: 1940s Wisconsin high school football.

Yes, in Wisconsin, for a period of time, you could get three points for hitting the ball through the uprights on a kickoff. This was far-fetched but doable for high schoolers with the tee at the 40-yard line and goalposts on the goal line instead of the back of the end zone.

[Hit THE JUMP for PLEASE DO THIS now updated with STATISTICAL JUSTIFICATION]

What began as a whimsical thought about a weird rule has turned into a real desire to see this in modern football. For college and NFL kickers, it's 75 yards from tee to goalposts, and that crossbar is ten feet off the ground. Even the best kickoff specialists have a hard time getting the distance to split the uprights, let alone the accuracy to do it with any regularity.

The strategic ramifications are wide-ranging and contain great comedic potential. The possibility of a kickoff field goal—raising a touchdown drive to a potential eleven points if you make a two-point conversion—would prevent teams from sitting on a small lead and keep comebacks in play for many more games. The calculus for late-game strategy changes dramatically. Coaches like James Franklin would have to account for all of this. Let that sink in.

imagine if this counted

Mostly, though, it boils down to this: how chaotically fun would it be to see a kickoff specialist line up with one second on the clock knowing his team's only hope of victory is to accurately boot the everloving piss out of the ball. The kicker's team has just driven the field to score a touchdown to even make this possible. The specialist has been recruited out of high school, or perhaps borrowed from the soccer team, specifically for this purpose.

We may have a long time to wait before football comes back. We might as well use it to make this wild sport even better.

UPDATE: Shoutout to friend of the blog Geoff, who did the math I'm incapable of calculating myself. I'm even more in support of this after seeing that it'd only be a good idea if you either had an incredible kicker or it's a desperation late-game scenario.

Meanwhile, FG XP = (FG%(field position)) * (3 pts). However, your opponent gets the ball back on their 25, where XP ~1. So, for this to be the right decision, we have to solve
0.4 = (FG%) * (3 pts) - 1
=> FG% >= ~46%
So probably not great here for your average #collegekickers

— Geoff (@TheBadOne) July 14, 2020

I don't have XP values for clock-restricted situations, and they'd probably be wobbly. But as t->0, the lower the XP is for your offense & your opponent's offense, so kicking it is a better idea. Intuitively, under 30 seconds always kick it, and it's defensible up to about 1:00.

— Geoff (@TheBadOne) July 14, 2020

If you must devise a way to make this less impactful, you can lower the point value to one or two, as a commenter suggested. Just find a way to get this into my life, please.