Football Daily

It's a moment that can send shivers down the spine of any football fan – the fumble. That heart-stopping drop, that desperate scramble, the sudden shift in momentum. But beyond the drama on the field, the fumble boasts a rich and surprising history.

This series delves deep into the fascinating world of the American football fumble. We'll embark on a journey through time, exploring its evolution from a chaotic element of early games to the statistically analyzed and strategically exploited phenomenon it is today.

Prepare to be surprised! We'll uncover the fumbles that changed the course of history, the legendary recoveries that secured victories, and even the rule changes that aimed to minimize their impact. Join us as we analyze iconic fumbles, dissect the psychology of ball security, and celebrate the unlikely heroes who snatch the loose ball and turn the tide of the game.

Whether you're a die-hard football fan or simply curious about the unexpected twists and turns of the sport, this series promises a captivating exploration. So, get ready to relive the most memorable fumbles, ponder the "what ifs," and gain a deeper appreciation for this often-overlooked yet impactful play in the game of football.

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The modern touchback rule in American football, where a ball fumbled out of the end zone results in possession for the receiving team at the 20-yard line, wasn't always the way it was. Its history reveals an interesting journey shaped by strategic considerations, safety concerns, and the ever-evolving nature of the game.

Timothy Brown of FootballArchaeology.com joins us to discuss this interesting but rare football event and its evolution in history.

Early Days and the Muffed Punt: In the early years of American football (late 19th century), recovering a fumble in the end zone, even if accidentally, awarded the recovering team a touchdown. This strategy, known as the "muffed punt," involved intentionally fumbling the ball just before crossing the goal line to score. It was a risky maneuver but potentially offered an advantage in scoring position.

Safety First: Introducing the Safety: Recognizing the dangers of this practice, a new rule was introduced in 1882, awarding the opposing team two points (later changed to one) for recovering a fumble in the end zone, effectively discouraging the "muffed punt" and prioritizing player safety.

Strategic Shifts and the Touchdown: However, the new rule also created a strategic conundrum. Teams facing fourth-and-long situations near their own end zone could intentionally fumble the ball out of bounds for a safety, essentially sacrificing two points to avoid a potential turnover and touchdown by the opponent. This led to the introduction of the "touchback" rule.

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In the hazy days of early American football, before forward passes soared and helmets resembled leather buckets, a curious rule reigned supreme: the fumble out of bounds. Unlike today's automatic touchback, a loose ball crossing the sidelines triggered a bizarre dance of possession.

Fumbles were not over until they were possessed by a player, even if they went out of bounds. This led to some crazy plays that Timothy P Brown of Football Archaeology discusses.

If the offense fumbled near their own end zone, the opposing team gained the ball at the point of recovery, no matter how deep it sailed out. Imagine the frantic scramble, desperation dives into sideline bleachers, and potential chaos as defensive players chased a wayward pigskin like oversized puppies after a chew toy.

However, if the fumble happened near the opponent's end zone, the offensive team retained possession even if it bounced through the stands and landed on a passing pigeon. This paradoxical scenario rewarded sloppiness near enemy territory, potentially turning fumbles into first downs through sheer serendipity.

This strange rule, abolished in the 1930s, reflected the nascent nature of the sport, where improvisation and quirky quirks abounded. While it introduced an element of slapstick into the game, it also highlighted the ever-evolving nature of football's laws, constantly adapting to the growing complexity and athleticism on the field. So, the next time you see a fumble careen towards the sideline, remember: it could have been a winning lottery ticket in the gridiron gamble of a bygone era.

-Transcription of Timothy Brown on Live-Fumbles-Out Bounds

Hello, my football friends. This is Darin Hayes of PigskinDispatch.com. Welcome once again to The Pig Pen, your portal to positive football history. And we have another great evening with Timothy P. Brown of Football Archeology, discussing one of his great tidbits that he shares with us each and every evening on Twitter and on email.

Tim, welcome back to The Pig Pen.

Hey, thank you, Mr. Hayes. Looking forward to chatting once again about oblate spheroid stuff.

Wow, we're getting into the geometry of the game a little bit. That's right. I got an A in high school geometry.

Did you really? Well, I believe you did because this topic that you have tonight involves a little bit of the geometry of the ball, I'm sure. You never know which way that ball is going to bounce. And you have a very interesting subject of football from yesteryear that we probably wouldn't recognize today.

If we saw this happen and officials let it go, we would be screaming and ripping our hair out from the stands and throwing things at our TV set. So why don't you share with us the topic tonight and the story behind it? Yeah. So the issue here is that when football began, they basically adopted a rule from rugby that when the ball went into touch, what we now call out of bounds, the ball remained live.

So for us now, we think, oh, the ball is out of bounds, so it's dead. Well, no, that wasn't the case. And so, if you think about it, it's comparable to the original rules for scoring a touchdown.

When you got into the end zone, the guy with the ball had to touch the ball down to the ground, which is why we call it a touchdown. And so until he did that, the ball remained live. And so they had much the same rule in place for the ball crossing the boundary line and on the sidelines, not just the end lines or the goal lines, that in order for the ball to become dead, somebody on one of the two teams had to be out of bounds and touch the ball to the ground.

So that's when the ball went dead. So it's just one of those things that we can't fathom. But when you think about it, the consequences of that rule mean that if the ball tumbles out of bounds, there could be obstacles.

Depending on the field, there could be trees. There could be players on your side or on the opposing side. There could be water buckets.

There could be carts and cars and horses and buggies and running tracks. A lot of the fans, you see some of those games where the fans are right on the sidelines. This could really cause some calamity there.

Yeah. I mean, there are a lot of fields. Virtually every field early on, where the sidelines, and I've got a bunch of pictures of these, the sidelines are just ropes.

There's a rope. And even the rule book talks about people behind the ropes. They're talking about fans behind the ropes.

Because they were just roped off, anyway, there's even a great story. In 1892, the University of Chicago took a train across the country, went out to play Stanford a couple of times, and they got a couple of other games in there.

But they were playing Stanford in San Francisco, and the ball went out of bounds and bounced over a fence. And one of the Stanford players would start to go for it. And Chicago had a guy who was a hurdler on the track team, and he hurdled the fence.

And ended up getting the ball before the Stanford guy could. But if you just think about it, in the tidbit itself, I've got some images like you described of the fans and the perimeter. I've got a picture of the University of Maine.

They had a 25-piece band sitting right along the sideline. So the ball could have gone running in there, and the sousaphone or tuba player or piccolo player or whatever could have gotten in the way. Yeah, your image of the Iowa State game with the fans on it.

I think there are fans like five deep all the way around the field, it looks like. I'm surprised that if you were standing on the outside, you wouldn't be able to see any of the players. That's for sure.

Yeah, and if you went and got concessions, there weren't TV screens up there showing you what was going on either. Anyways, all that continued until 1926. And that's when they finally changed the rule.

And at that point, they made it so that the last person to touch it, their team, got possession of it once it was out of bounds. And then later on, it was the last team to possess the ball while in bounds. So initially it was touch, then it became possession before it went out of bounds.

So anyways, it's one of those old-time rules that you just can't believe was in place. But it made sense based on the game's origins. But I just can't imagine some of the things that must have happened.

You know, the guys fighting and everything to get to the ball amid crowds and fans and teammates and whatever. Yeah, it had to be. Now, I just want some clarification on what you said early on.

The rugby term for being in touch, you're saying that's when the man's on the ground touching the ball. That's when the ball's in touch, or when it goes out of bounds, it's in touch. So, out of bounds, I was in touch.

So, the sidelines were called the touchlines. Okay. So, you know, that was just for whatever reason.

I mean, it gets a little bit confusing, too. Just, you know, but so I'm not sure exactly why they called it in touch, but they did. And then, but that was for the sidelines.

That's the out-of-bounds side. And then, you know, once you cross the goal line, you still, you know, old-time films and even in rugby today, you sometimes you see the guy, he'll kneel down and plant the ball to the ground. That's what was the case in football, too.

You had to, you had to for the touchdown. I was just trying, I was looking more from the sideline, what we call the sideline point of view, seeing in touch it, seeing if there was a correlation to try to understand it better.

So, okay. Hey, that's great stuff, as always. You know, that's definitely a fascinating thing.

And it's a way of really looking foreign to us today. As we said, in the beginning, for a ball to go out of bounds, people, you know, 22 guys were chasing it through the trees, the crowds, the bleachers, and everything else. Yeah.

We remember, you know when this stuff was first happening, and when it was really early on, the rest didn't have whistles yet. So, you know, it was all just, you know, they were fighting in there, and somehow, they figured out who had the ball. Yeah.

Officiating nightmare. Thank God I didn't officiate back then. So that's rude.

Well, Tim, that is some great stuff, as always. And your tidbits are coming out each and every day. Tell us how to share those.

And why don't you tell us also about your book, you know, that's still on sale? You know, the hot, hot hike a little bit about that, where people can get that too. Yeah.

So, you know, you can. The easiest thing is to subscribe, you know, go to footballarchaeology.com, and you know, there is a free process to subscribe. And that'll get you an email every night with the story. And again, you don't have to read it that night.

You can read it two weeks later, or you can read whatever you want. But at least you have access to it. And if you want to read it, you've got it.

Otherwise, follow me on Twitter. And then, you know, the book is available. All three of my books are available on Amazon.

So hot, hot hike, you know, either search for that or search Timothy P. Brown. There are a couple of Timothy P. Browns, but I'm the only one who writes books on football. So you should be able to find me.

And, you know, in particular, if you're somebody, you know, if you've got a Kindle Unlimited plan, you know, you can read it for free. So, you know, it's just like streaming anything else. You know, nowadays you just, it's available.

So, of course, I'm more than happy to sell you a paper copy, which is. Yeah, that's great to have too. It's a great reference, especially, you know, hike and when football became football are great reference points.

I use it all the time to look up things, and people have questions, or I have questions. It's an excellent source. So, it was very well done tonight.

We thank you for your time and for sharing your knowledge, Tim. And we'll talk to you again next Tuesday. Hey, look forward to it.

See you in a week.

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai.

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The winter wonderland gridiron clash of 1925 between the Wisconsin Badgers and the Iowa Hawkeyes as told by FootballArchaeology.com.

On a crisp November day in 1925, the battle lines were drawn at Iowa Field in Iowa City. The Iowa Hawkeyes, seeking revenge for a narrow loss to Wisconsin the previous year, clashed with the Badgers, hungry to solidify their position in the newly formed Big Ten Conference.

Wisconsin, under the guidance of first-year Head Coach George Little, entered the game boasting a 5-0 record against non-conference opponents. Iowa, coached by Burt Ingwersen, sported a respectable 3-2 record, eager to prove their mettle against their Big Ten rivals.

The game unfolded as a defensive stalemate, with both teams struggling to move the ball consistently. Neither offense could find the end zone in the first half, leaving the halftime score locked at a scoreless tie. The tension crackled in the crisp Iowa air as fans of both teams held their breath.

The second half brought a glimmer of hope for the Hawkeyes. A sustained drive fueled by the running of Howard Baxter culminated in a field goal by Harold Swanson, giving Iowa a precarious 3-0 lead. The crowd erupted, but the celebration was short-lived.

Wisconsin responded with a punishing ground attack of their own. Doyle Harmon, the Badgers' star halfback, weaved through the Hawkeye defense, finally breaking free for a 15-yard touchdown run. With the extra point, Wisconsin snatched the lead 7-3, sending a wave of elation through their supporters.

The remaining minutes ticked away with agonizing slowness. Iowa made desperate attempts to equalize, but the Badger defense held firm. The final whistle blew, sealing Wisconsin's 7-3 victory.

Despite the defeat, the 1925 Hawkeye-Badger matchup remains a noteworthy chapter in both teams' histories. It marked the first competitive Big Ten game for both programs, setting the stage for a long and storied rivalry. It also showcased the defensive prowess of both teams, with strong performances from players like Doyle Harmon and Harold Swanson.

-Transcribed Conversation with Timothy Brown on the 33 Fumble Snow Game

Hello, my football friends. This is Darin Hayes of PigskinDispatch.com. Welcome once again to the Pig Pen, your portal to positive football history. And welcome to another Tuesday of football archaeology nature, where we get to visit with the founder of that website, footballarchaeology.com, Timothy P. Brown.

Tim, welcome back to the Pig Pen. Darin, I look forward to chatting once again. Let's see on this hot summer evening, we can talk about a winter.

Well, I guess it would have been a late fall day with a tad of snow. Yeah, the headline of this tidbit jumps right out to anybody looking at it. And the word 33 fumbles is what caught my eye.

And the title, listeners, is the 1925 Iowa Wisconsin Snow Games 33 fumbles that Tim posted back in April. And boy, Tim, this is an interesting one, and it is all of our attention right now. Yeah, so this is one that, you know, I. I really suggest that listeners try to get out to the site and take a look at it because it's got like eight pictures that I grabbed off of, you know, University of Iowa's, you know, library or photo archive.

So folks get to a rest stop or something, pull the car over, stop running on the treadmill, pull over. We got a link to Tim's site in the show notes. Click on it and get to these photographs, because these images are outstanding, like he says.

So, yeah, so, you know, this is obviously a big rivalry game, and they tend to be. Probably all the way back then, they probably had fairly stagnant offenses and really tough defenses, but it's kind of the history of both teams. But, you know, this was a day where, you know, it's a November game, but they had an unexpected or not unexpected, but an unseasonal, seasonable blizzard.

So, you know, the game starts, and there are already four inches of snow on the ground. 30-mile-an-hour winds coming from the north. And since football fields are oriented north-south, that meant you had a real advantage if you were heading south and not so much if you were heading north.

And so, you know, basically, a game played in blizzard conditions. Both teams came out there without gloves, you know, in the first half. I don't know about the people sitting on the bench, but those on the side, you know, playing, didn't have gloves.

And so, you know, the first quarter especially was a mess. There were 17 fumbles between the two teams during the first quarter. Wisconsin, so Iowa had the wind in the first quarter.

So at one point, Wisconsin was punting into the wind. And, you know, sounds like the punter got the ball up in the air a little bit. But he was, they had the ball on their own 49.

So he was probably on the 39 or something along those lines. But he gets a snap, punts the ball, and it gets caught in the wind and starts flying backwards. And ended up landing on the 35 yard line, plopped down in the snow.

And an Iowa player comes over and either grabbed it, you know, picked it up or touched it and then fumbled it. And so Wisconsin got the ball back. So that's kind of the game right there in a nutshell.

You know, if one play captured it. Another one that I really liked was, you know, the newspaper articles described an Iowa player who had a breakaway run in the second quarter. And he starts chugging along.

He's 17 yards downfield, and he just drops the ball. The ball slips out of his hands. And then Wisconsin recovered.

So 33 fumbles, you know, the whole game. It was they had, as you can imagine, had trouble keeping the sidelines and the goal lines cleared and how they determined whether anybody got a first down or not. I'm not entirely sure because they, you know, didn't have yard lines for most of the game.

But, and there were only, you know, as it turns out, there were only six first downs between the two teams all game. It was just a mess. I can sympathize with them because when I started officiating, there were no turf fields in our area.

We were all grass fields and were right by one of the great lakes. We get a lot of lake effect snow, especially in, you know, late October and November, and we had a lot of games, playoff games that were pretty, pretty important. You know, more, a little bit more important than a, not a regular season, the games are unimportant, but you know, a little bit more high profile and you have white lines on a field with white snow and that whatever the substances they use to align the fields and it would like to dissolve.

So the line would be spread out. You'd have these yard lines instead of being four or five inches wide, which might be eight or nine inches wide. You use those lines to mark your chains to measure for the first down.

Do you have a clip on it and you measure first down? So that was a disaster. Then I worked a game where the team, they knew it was going to snow. And so as it snowed, they would run out in between quarters and right before the game, they would put yellow lines on top of the snow where the yard lines were.

And that was a mess too. Cause then you start trudging through the snow and these yellow lines are getting kicked all over places. Seen it all yet.

And then you come home and we were wearing white knickers at the time. You have yellow all over your, your pants and you know, you get home and the wife's ready to kill you for trying to clean these white knickers anyway. But, uh, yeah, I can sympathize with them with the snow and, uh, you know, football game.

Yeah. Yeah. I, um, well, I don't recall.

I probably did cause, you know, I, I grew up in Wisconsin, and you, you know, played, played there and then coached in upstate New York. And then I went down to St. Louis. So I've, I've been in, you know, snowy weather conditions.

Right. Um, I don't remember playing in the snow or coaching the star. I've sat in the stands many times, you know, during snowy games or, you know, when the turf was filled with snow.

Um, I don't remember being in a blizzard situation though, like this, you know, cause this game, it was like, um, Wisconsin. They lost their yardage from scrimmage, and their penalties exceeded the yards they gained from scrimmage. You know, and I, Iowa had, uh, lost more, lost 95 yards on fumbles, which was more than a game from scrimmage.

So no, just a crazy game. Um, Wisconsin ended up winning cause in the fourth quarter, they had the ball on, I was one and then they lost it on a fumble. Uh, Iowa had to punt.

They punt out of the end zone. Wisconsin gets the ball on the 11th. Uh, you know, then they ended up scoring.

So they went like six, nothing. They couldn't convert. So just, you know, crazy, crazy game.

Um, and then just the last one is just that there was a, uh, there was only one pass attempt and that was Iowa on the last play of the game. Uh, you know, they, they attempted a pass, but didn't complete it. So I wonder, I wonder why when you have cold hands, a cold football and no points of reference on the field.

Yeah. You know, and that would have been still in the days when they used one ball the whole game. Right.

So that thing was, I weighed 150 pounds by the end. There were no long snaps in the second half. But, oh, but wow.

Well, I guess the only good news is that there was a, is in an era before there was game film. So the coaches didn't have to beat the snot out of their players for all the errors and everything in the game. They could do it by memory, but, uh, you'd have to witness it time and time again on film day.

So that's. Yeah. Well, you know, I came across this, this game because I'd written an article about Iowa's early, uh, uh, games on radio.

Uh, so this game, you know, they did end up broadcasting this thing on radio. Uh, so I can imagine, you know, just, just, you know, these guys had to somehow keep the tubes warm and, you know, that was, that was early radio, so how did they manage to do it? I don't know.

Especially, uh, with all the, uh, you know, because back then games were much quicker cause there's more running plays. So you're running the clock. Can you imagine that with all the turnovers stopping the clock 33 to extra times, that's probably like a three-and-a-half, four-hour game?

These people were probably going nuts trying to sit there through that. Well, and press boxes were open back then too. So it wasn't like you weren't sitting in some nice comfy heated, uh, location.

It was either down on the sidelines or up in a little shack on top of the stands. Uh, well, there are some things that we can greatly appreciate in the modern era of football compared to what our forefathers did on the football field. So, Tim, great stuff is always, uh, you know, you always have something interesting to talk about, and you do this daily in your tidbits and some of the other posts that you do both on social media and on your site.

And maybe, uh, you could share with the listeners how they too could share in this experience of having these daily items from football's past. Yeah, sure. It's really simple.

Um, you can follow me on Twitter just to, you know, find me at football archeology, um, or, and you know, my preference is that you subscribe on the, on the site, um, football archeology.com, uh, every, every post, every page gives you the option to subscribe. And so real simply enter your email and then every night you'll get it, get an email with the story at, uh, seven o'clock Easter. And as I always say, let them stack up if you want, or read them, you know, two minutes later, whichever you prefer.

And, uh, but just a way to get, get, uh, you know, most of them are one- or two-minute reads that are pretty quick stuff. Uh, but tells a little story of some silly element of football or, you know, something that has changed over time. And, uh, so hopefully, it's fun.

Yeah. Then, the reads might be one or two minutes, but if you're like me, uh, some of the interesting images you have on there that you talk about, I find myself studying the, the, the pictures after I read it and I glanced at the pictures or read it and I'm like, Oh, let me go back and look what he's pointing out here. And then you find all kinds of crazy things in there and, you know, blowing it up.

And it's good times. It's great stuff because of the imagery and the wording, and the stories that you tell are very interesting. Well, good.

Well, Tim, we greatly appreciate you coming on and sharing this story about this great game from 1925 and this, uh, blizzard, uh, turnover battle that was played between the Hawkeyes and the Badgers. And, uh, we thank you. And we will talk to you again next Tuesday.

Okay. Very good. Thanks, Darin.

Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai.

Football is not a difficult game to understand. Two teams of 11 players line up to move an oval-shaped ball up and down a 100-yard field, with the goal of getting the ball over the other team's goal line. However, you still need to move the ball by ten-yard increments, or else the other team…

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Sure, here is a summary of the infamous "wrong way run" play by Jim Marshall of the Minnesota Vikings:

On October 25, 1964, during a game against the San Francisco 49ers, the Minnesota Vikings were leading 27-17 in the fourth quarter. With just over two minutes remaining, 49ers quarterback John Brodie fumbled the ball after being sacked by Vikings defensive end Carl Eller.

Vikings linebacker Dave Whitsell recovered the fumble at the San Francisco 49ers' 20-yard line. However, teammate Jim Marshall, a defensive end, mistakenly picked up the loose ball and started running the wrong way. He ran 66 yards down the field, unaware that he was heading into his own end zone.

The confusion on the field was palpable. Some Vikings players yelled at Marshall to stop, but he thought they were encouraging him to run for a touchdown. San Francisco 49ers players were initially unsure of what was happening but then realized the opportunity and tackled Marshall in his own end zone, resulting in a safety for the 49ers.

The safety cut the Vikings' lead to 27-19, but they ultimately won the game 27-22. Despite the win, Marshall's blunder became one of the most famous and embarrassing plays in NFL history. He was initially ridiculed for his mistake, but later gained respect for his sportsmanship and humility.