Ah, the multi-task player. With the advent of the two-platoon system and especially specialization and enlarged roster numbers, the NFL player responsible for special teams work as well a field position has sadly gone away. By the 1970’s, a player such as Danny White was looked at as a novelty as he was the Cowboys’ punter and back up quarterback. And by 1965, punting became a specialized position as Browns end Gary Collins was the last NFL-AFL “non-specialist” to lead the league in punting.
But…kicking? THAT was where the fun began. Warren Alfson, a man in my home town who had been a 1940 All-American lineman at Nebraska, was with the Brooklyn (football) Dodgers in 1941 whose career was cut short by the war. In the middle of a game, head coach Jock Sutherland asked him, “You ever kicked before?” He said, “No…” So, Sutherland had him kick off to start the second half of a game. Alfson’s kickoff went ten yards, and he was never asked to kick again. THAT was the science of kicking way back when.
With the straight-ahead kicker, you have all kinds of players, and sizes and shapes. Sure, you had George Blanda, but comparing him to other multi-task players is like comparing Sally Field to Ann-Margret. You did have your occasional Gino Cappelletti or Paul Hornung, but with a 1950’s 33-man roster (raised to forty by 1964) you had defensive linemen like Lou Michaels, who looked more like a Bronx cop than a professional athlete, and who actually was more successful as a kicker than a lineman. Or HOF guard Jerry Kramer, who folks forget kicked three field goals in the 1962 NFL championship game. Or Jim Martin…or Mike Clark…
Or Lou Groza. The Toe. If you are so good at what you do that your nickname is a body part, you’ve accomplished a lot. No one called John Elway “The Arm”, or Jim Brown “Legs”. In fact, unlike the others it was Groza’s kicking that got attention first, as he evolved into a strong NFL lineman. Then came Garo and the Gogolak brothers and Stenerud (and larger team rosters), and kicking became a strictly specialized position.
And while Mark Moseley is remembered as the NFL’s last kicker MVP, Lou was the first, nearly thirty years before. And he did all that while looking more like a Mafia leg-breaker named Guido Santoro than Uwe von Schaumann–and by all accounts, Lou was a great guy and family man. Really, all he needed was a fedora and a trench coat and guys in Little Italy would have kissed his pinky ring.
Getting to know “The Toe” a little bit better:
