State Your Case: Remember Rams' Strongman Duane Putnam? Someone Should.

By John Turney 

Duane Putnam (61)

There are multiple tiers to becoming an NFL all-star, from all-conference to Pro Bowl to first-team All-Pro, a pinnacle reserved for the absolute best at each position. And if an individual is named to most ... or all ... recognized All-Pro teams, he can circle the bases.

And become a consensus All-Pro. 

Each level is increasingly difficult to achieve, demanding near-universal recognition of a player's talent -- which brings us to former Los Angeles Rams' guard Duane Putnam.  He played in the 1950s and not only was a first-team All-Pro five times; he was also a consensus All-Pro in three of those seasons. 

So why does that matter? Because his accolades match or exceed those of Hall-of-Fame guards Gene Upshaw, Gene Hickerson, Mike Munchak, Will Shields, Stan Jones and Tom Mack. In fact, he trails only Billy Shaw, Jerry Kramer and Russ Grimm by one consensus All-Pro nod. 

But wait. Duane Putnam? Who's he?

It's a fair question. A dominant player of his era, his name isn't widely known nor remembered. Yet, he was one of the premier guards of the 1950s, and his story deserves recognition. 

So let's hear it.

After graduating from Antioch High School in 1946, Putnam enlisted in the U.S. Army, serving in the First Cavalry for two years before enrolling the College of the Pacific (now the University of the Pacific). As a senior, he was an honorable mention All-American and earned AP's All-Coast honors, along with some players you might know -- Frank Gifford, Ollie Matson, Hugh McElhenny, Gino Marchetti and Les Richter. 

Chosen by Pittsburgh in the sixth round of the 1952 NFL draft, Putnam was traded to the Rams where he initially served as a backup. But at 6 feet tall and 217 pounds, he wasn’t physically imposing by NFL standards. So something had to give ... and something did.

Through hard work. 

While doing graduate work at UCLA, he trained with one of the school's shot putters (something Putnam did in high school and college). Convinced that weight training wouldn't "tie him up" nor make him musclebound, he learned he could hoist barbells and still retain his running ability. As such, he became one of the first NFL players to adopt weight training as part of his regimen, defying the conventional coaching wisdom of that time.

Duane Putnam (61)

Alongside a pair of other NFL weightlifting pioneers of the 1950s -- Stan Jones of the Bears and Jack Stroud of the Giants -- Putnam proved that strength training could enhance performance rather than hinder it. Adding 20 pounds of muscle for his second season, he not only earned a starting spot with the Rams; he held it for the next seven seasons. 

 Putnam's unique combination of speed and newfound strength made him an ideal pulling guard. He excelled at leading sweeps, clearing paths for running backs Dan Towler, Tank Younger, Ron Waller, Jon Arnett and Ollie Matson and earning the praise of legendary coach Sid Gillman.

"Putnam has no peer playing offensive guard," Gillman said. "I have not seen any guards his equal." 

During Putnam's eight seasons with the Rams, the team led the NFL in numerous offensive categories. No team scored more points. No team ran for more yards. No team had a higher average per rush. No team passed for more yards or had more total yards. And only one allowed fewer sack yards. 

The Rams ran the ball effectively and efficiently and threw it without putting their quarterbacks at risk, and Putnam was one reason why. On a team with numerous stars, he was its only offensive lineman chosen as an All-Pro.

But why, then, isn’t he ever mentioned as a candidate for the Pro Football Hall of Fame? He's never been a finalist and never made it beyond the preliminary lists as a modern-era or senior candidate. Yet his accolades speak for themselves.

What are voters missing?

One possible explanation is that he wasn't named to the 1950s' all-decade team, though that may be an anomaly. When the Hall of Fame announced all-decade teams, the format was different than it is now. Despite having three quarterbacks, three halfbacks and five receivers (three ends and two flankers), only two guards, two tackles and one center were named.

Basically, blockers got the short shrift. It was easier to be recognized if you threw, ran or caught the ball.

Nevertheless, when legendary writer Paul Zimmerman revisited all-decade selections decades later, he included Putnam on his revised team for Sports Illustrated, as did Pro Football Reference -- arguably the top sports statistical site on the internet. Both recognized that, while the Hall's all-decade teams have value, they're not without flaws and could ... .and should ... be corrected, with Putnam one of the most prominent omissions.

But there may have been other reasons he was given the cold shoulder by past Hall voters. An independent thinker who often prioritized personal commitments over rigid football schedules, he opted to play in the 1957 Hula Bowl— which, at that time, featured a team with Hawaiian college players, military players and NFL stars vs. one of college stars. 

No problem there. Over the years, NFL players accepted the Hula Bowl invitation, took the free trip to Hawaii, earned a paycheck, then returned to  Los Angeles for the Pro Bowl. But in 1957, Putnam did not return ... at least not immediately. Staying in Hawaii to spend time with his wife and family, he missed his first Pro Bowl practice .

That was a problem. 

In fact, it angered NFL officials so much they declined to let him play in the Pro Bowl -- and incident marked the beginning of the end for a junket valued by NFL players. When Gifford went through the same ordeal the following year, the Hula Bowl by 1960 became more like other all-star games that fielded only college players (Hall-of-Famer Bobby Layne threw five touchdowns in the final game under that format in 1959).

Another example of Putnam's independence was his refusal to abide by Gillman's training rules that, among other things, forbid drinking in training camp. Putnam did it anyway, as did others. The difference was that Putnam wasn't discreet. He did it openly.

Then, In his final year in Los Angeles, Putnam was found by young Rams' executive Pete Rozelle in the team's hotel lobby after curfew. Told by the future NFL commissioner to retire to his room, Putnam refused. Rozelle wasn't amused, and so -- without consulting Gillman -- sent him home.

With that as a background, it was no surprise that the Rams left Putnam unprotected in the 1960 expansion pool of players available to the newly-former Dallas Cowboys. The club quickly grabbed him and made him the franchise's first starting left guard, with Putnam playing so well that he made UPI honorable mention All-Pro for a winless team.

He was the only Cowboys' player to earn All-Pro votes and one of only two to gain any recognition. 

But Putnam's independence continued to clash with team structures, with the Cowboys in 1961 refusing to accommodate his annual football camp for kids in Susanville, Cal. They wanted him in camp; he wanted to help the children. All got a reprieve when future Cleveland's Hall-of-Fame guard, Gene Hickerson, broke his leg in preseason, and the Browns acquired Putnam in a trade for a third-round draft pick.

In Cleveland, Putnam played the role of the famed messenger guard, helping Jim Brown secure another rushing title. But, by the next summer, it was deja vue all over again. He wanted to report to the Browns after his youth football camp ended (the camp was his passion), and the Browns, like the Cowboys, weren't about to go for it. 

So they released the 11-year veteran, allowing Putnam to finish his career with the Rams under his former teammates, Bob Waterfield (coach) and Elroy "Crazylegs" Hirsch (GM). Gillman and Rozelle were gone, with Gillman coaching the AFL Chargers and Rozelle moving to the league office in New York. But that wasn't the only change. The Rams were a disaster, with Waterfield fired after eight games and the team finishing an NFL-worst 1-12-1.

The following summer. Putnam retired.

He then went on to coach offensive lines at Los Angeles Valley Junior College, then at three NFL teams (Falcons, Eagles and Cardinals) over 12 years and work briefly with the Philadelphia Bell of the World Football League. He even doubled as the Falcons' strength coach in the early 1970s, getting the team's linemen to engage in strength training as he had a generation earlier. 

It was a tremendous, albeit unknown, career. No question, his final seasons were marked by friction with authority figures, but that doesn't diminish his legacy as a player ... and that's what matters.

Was Putnam difficult? Perhaps. Or maybe he was a military veteran who simply refused to let football dictate every aspect of his life.  What isn’t debatable is his talent. Duane Putnam was a five-time first-team All-Pro, key member of one of the NFL’s most dominant offenses -- the 1950s' L.A. Rams --  and a player who helped change how NFL players approached strength training. 

When you watch film of him, you see one of the finest pulling guards in NFL history -- a player who deserves to be remembered among the all-time greats and, at the very least, have his case heard by the Pro Football Hall's seniors committee. 

 But not because I say so. Because his play demands it.