Does Stanley Morgan Have the Goods for a Gold Jacket?

By John Turney 

Should former New England wide receiver Stanley Morgan be enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame? That’s a question worth chewing on, and the answer isn’t as simple as a yes-or-no snap judgment. What’s undeniable, though, is that Morgan’s career demands a serious look by the voters in Canton.

The man carved out an illustrious 14-year run with the Patriots and Indianapolis Colts, piling up numbers that stack up against the best of his era -- 557 receptions, 10,716 yards, 19.2 YPC, 72 touchdowns. Those aren’t just stats; they’re a testament to a guy who was first a deep threat, then a chain-mover and a clutch performer when New England needed it most.

Compare that to some Hall of Famers from his time. He’s not just in the conversation; he’s banging on the door. Sure, the doubters might point to his lack of All-Pro nods or a thin post-season resume, but dig deeper: Morgan was a four-time Pro Bowler who played in an era stacked with elite wideouts, and he did it with a revolving door of quarterbacks.

Stanley Morgan’s career? It’s like he was the Certs of NFL receivers -- yeah, you know the classic breath mint with that old tagline, “Two, two, two mints in one.” Morgan wasn’t just a wideout; he was two receivers rolled into one, a dual-threat maestro who could burn you deep or, later in his career, grind out first downs. That’s a player who makes you sit up and wonder why his name doesn’t come up more when Canton’s calling.

Let’s rewind to the first act of Morgan’s career, from 1977-82 when he was torching secondaries as one of the most lethal deep threats the game’s ever seen. But don’t take my word for it. Paul “Dr. Z” Zimmerman, the dean of football scribes, called him out as elite. Or trust your eyes. If you caught him streaking down the sidelines at Schaefer Stadium, would’ve backed that up.

And the numbers? They scream it. Over those six years, Morgan racked up 4,869 receiving yards. Only four players -- Steve Largent, Charlie Joiner, James Lofton and Harold Carmichael -- had more. Notice a pattern? All four are in the Hall of Fame.

But here’s where Morgan separates himself. He did it with fewer catches and bigger plays. In the first half of his career, the Patriots were a running team with a play-action passing attack. The idea was to suck defenses up to play a potent run game, then throw over the top ... and Morgan was just the guy to do it.

His average of 22.5 yards per catch over that span was a full two yards better than the next guy on the list. The four Hall of Famers ahead of him? They ranged from 15.8 to 18.1 yards per catch. That’s not just a gap; it’s a chasm.

For players with 200 or more receptions through 1982, nobody -- not Bob “Bullet” Hayes, not Homer Jones, not even Paul Warfield -- could touch Morgan’s yards-per-catch mark. Three words: Best. Deep. Threat.

"Stanley Steamer does not go for anything short," wrote one reporter. "He goes for it all .. he gets down in a sprinter's stance and takes off. His favorite move is to take off at full speed and run under a Steve Grogan pass. Real intricate, huh? Don't knock it, it works."

Then, from about 1983 onward, his game evolved. The Patriots didn’t just send him on "go" routes every snap. They reinvented him, blending his afterburner speed with the savvy of a possession receiver, the kind of guy who becomes the engine of a passing attack. This was by design.

"We want Stanley to obtain those big results on a more consistent basis," said his new coach.

And Morgan delivered. He went from averaging 36 catches a season through 1982 to 45 the rest of his career in New England. By 1986, he was hauling in 80 catches for nearly 1,500 yards, proving he could be the chain-mover, the go-to target, while still keeping defenses honest deep. 

"He can get deep," one publication observed, "but he has refined his game so he can work the middle of a defense." 

Two receivers in one, folks -- a rare breed who could dominate in different roles.

When Stanley Morgan retired, he’d done more than just put up numbers; he’d carved out a legacy that demands a hard look from the Hall-of-Fame voters. Stepping into a bigger role with the Patriots, he wasn’t just running fly routes; he was carrying the weight of the passing game and piling stats that scream elite.

By the time he retired in 1990, he sat fifth all-time in receiving yards with 10,716. Let that sink in -- fifth, in an era of defensive backs who would mug you and secondaries built to shut down the pass. But he wasn’t done. He was also 14th in touchdown catches with 72 and is still tied for ninth in yards per catch (19.2) among players with 200 or more grabs.

But here’s the kicker: For receivers with 500-plus career catches, Morgan’s yards-per-catch mark was numero uno. Not second, not close -- but first. And you know what? It still is. No “prolific” pass-catcher ... not then, not now ... has ever matched his deep-ball efficiency while hauling in a high volume of passes.

That’s not just a stat; it’s a statement.

Morgan wasn’t just great. He was a revolution at wideout. Harold Jackson, who was a teammate of his when Morgan was the deep threat and his position coach in the mid-1980s when his role was expanded, once said, "As long as you put the ball in Stanley Morgan's hands, he will make something happen."

The 25th pick in the 1977 NFL draft out of the University of Tennessee, Morgan set the school record for all-purpose yards with 4,642 playing receiver, running back and wingback. His versatility and 4.4 speed made an immediate impact in the NFL. He was All-Rookie after starting all 14 games, averaging 21.1 yards per catch and 13.8 yards per punt return, and built his resume from there -- earning end-of-season awards that put him among the elite. 

Four Pro Bowl nods? Check. Second-team All-Pro in 1980, when he was torching defenses as "Mr. Deep Threat" with a league-leading 22.5 yards per catch? Check. Another second-team All-Pro in 1986, when he’d morphed into “Mr. Complete.” Check. And don’t sleep on this: The Sporting News named him first-team All-NFL in 1986.

Pro Football Weekly's personnel guru, the late Joel Buschbaum, was also aware of Morgan's game, naming him to his personal All-Pro team in 1980, writing, "Not only is Stanley Steamer the quickest and most explosive receiver in football; he's also a superb downfield blocker."

Yep, he was a blocker, too. He had to be in the run-first offense that the Patriots ran in those years. 

Then there’s the cherry on top: Morgan wasn’t just a receiver. Early in his career, he was a dynamite punt returner, averaging 10.4 yards on 92 returns. In 1979, he took one 80 yards to the house, showing he could flip a game with one burst of speed.

So far, some Halls have recognized him -- both the University of Tennessee Hall of Fame and the Tennessee Sports Hall of Fame in 2000, the New England Patriots Hall of Fame in 2007 and the South Carolina Football Hall of Fame in 2016. For good measure, the Professional Football Researchers Association named Morgan to its Hall of Very Good Class of 2021.

So, why is Morgan’s name not etched in Canton? That’s the question. The closest he's come was this year when he was a seniors' semifinalist but fell short for the Pro Football Hall-of-Fame’s Class of 2025, and that's disappointing.

With yards that outshine most Hall of Famers, All-Pro honors in two distinct phases of his career and a return game that added another layer of brilliance, Morgan’s resume isn’t just Hall-worthy; it’s a demand for a long-overdue debate. Stanley Morgan is as complete a candidate as they come, and voters do him ... and themselves ... a disservice by not acknowledging it.

Matt Blair—Hall of Famer?

 By John Turney

The Minnesota Vikings’ Matt Blair has never been a finalist for the Pro Football Hall of Fame. In fact, in 20 years of modern-era eligibility since 1990, he was never a semifinalist. And since then? Well, since then, nothing's changed.

He hasn't been a semifinalist as a seniors' candidate, either.

In short, he's gotten the short end of the stick in that process, mostly because he was a playmaking dynamo -- a star linebacker who could do it all. Tackle. Force fumbles. Snag interceptions. Sack quarterbacks. He did it. 

Granted, plenty of all-time greats check those boxes. But with Blair, there was more. He had an extra gear that they did not: He could block kicks, and he did it with a reckless, game-changing flair. And it's that ability that not only makes him stand out from others but should have the Pro Football Hall-of-Fame's seniors committee on his case ... sooner rather than later.

Overcoming a knee injury in his junior season at Iowa State, Blair was drafted in the second round (51st overall) by the Vikings in 1974. Despite lingering questions about the injury, the Vikings did not hesitate -- with then-coach Bud Grant saying that, were it not for the knee issue, Blair would've been one of the first picks of the draft.

In his rookie year, he started a handful of games and made enough big plays on special teams that he was voted to the league's All-Rookie team. He spent the next year doing much the same before breaking through in 1976 when he locked down the left linebacker position and never looked back.

In an era stacked with elite outside linebackers -- Hall of Famers like Jack Ham, Ted Hendricks, Robert Brazile, Chris Hanburger, and Pro Bowl studs like Isiah Robertson, Brad Van Pelt and Tom Jackson -- Blair still shined. He snagged first-team All-Pro in 1980, second-team in 1981 and punched tickets to six straight Pro Bowls (1977-82). You could make a case he deserved Pro Bowl nods in ’76 and ’83, too.

In 1980, Blair was also voted the NFC's top linebacker by the NFL Players Association. Not just the top outside linebacker, mind you, but the top linebacker, period -- prompting one writer to say that "if (Blair) played in a high-exposure city, he'd be worshipped by the football world."

He might be right. Blair was a model of consistency, piling up splash plays that flipped games and fueled Vikings' victories. And his knack for blocking kicks? That was his calling card, a rare skill that turned games on end in ways stats don’t always capture. In all, he blocked 21 kicks -- a semi-official figure that doesn't include three more blocks in the playoffs.

You could count on one hand the number of players with that many rejected kicks/punts. 

"All of a sudden," Dolphins' coach Don Shula said, "this guy, Matt Blair, was jumping up like he was on a trampoline. Then, all of a sudden, he's blocking my guy's kick."

Blair acknowledged his extraordinary ability to block kicks, but the son of an Air Force serviceman always remained humble -- making sure the "grubbers" received the recognition often reserved for the Vikings' "leaper." 

"I can't do it by myself," he said. "The guys who penetrate the line should get credit, too."

As significant as it was, his special-teams' resume is not the whole story of Matt Blair. If it were, we wouldn't be talking about him as a Hall-of-Fame candidate. He made splash plays on defense, too. A lot of them, in fact, finishing his career with 23 sacks, 19 defensive fumble recoveries, 16 interceptions and -- according to official NFL gamebooks -- 981 tackles.

"He's got the capacity to be around the ball," said Grant. "If it's one on the ground or in the air and up for grabs, Blair is going to be someplace in the vicinity. He's literally a natural, a player tremendously gifted."

In 1978, for example, Blair showcased his versatility by making 151 tackles, defending 12 passes, forcing five fumbles and producing four sacks, according to NFL gamebooks. He also intercepted three passes, recovered three fumbles and returned one 49 yards for a touchdown against the Chicago Bears, a key play in a 24-20 win. Plus, for good measure, he blocked a kick.

Well, of course he did.

The next year, he blocked another five and again made 151 total tackles, had four sacks and intercepted three passes. He also forced a pair of fumbles and recovered two. But those are the two years prior to his first-team All-Pro year of 1980 -- perhaps his best season -- and it didn't stop there. In 1981, he had over 100 tackles for the sixth consecutive season and blocked five more kicks, sacked the quarterback a career-high six times, forced four fumbles and recovered two others.

You get the point. He was a big-play machine, year after year. And that's what you need to know. Correction: That's what voters need to know.

Blair appeared in two Super Bowls with the Vikings, Super Bowls IX and XI, but both were losses -- first to the Pittsburgh Steelers, then the Oakland Raiders. In Super Bowl IX, he blocked a Bobby Walden punt that was recovered in the end zone, preventing the a shutout, but it's possible the two losses are factors keeping Blair out of Canton. I mean, let's be honest: It sure seems like a lot of Vikings waited a long time to get their Gold Jackets. Plus, some like Blair never had a shot.

Outside of Hall voters, however, Blair’s accomplishments have been widely recognized. In 2010, he was named one of the 50 greatest Vikings of all time, and two years later he was inducted into the Minnesota Vikings’ Ring of Honor. He was also selected to the Vikings’ 25th and 40th Anniversary Teams.

Additionally, Blair was honored by his alma maters. In 1999, he was inducted into the Iowa State Athletics Hall of Fame. There, he earned Coaches’ All-American honors. In 2008, he was enshrined in the Northeastern Oklahoma A&M Athletics Hall of Fame, recognizing his contribution to its NJCAA national championship team before transferring to Iowa State.

All that's left, then, is the Pro Football Hall of Fame. 

Sadly, Blair passed away in 2020 at the age of 70. So, I'm urging the Hall's seniors committee not to forget who and what he was. At the very least, give the 6-foot-5½ inch, 232-pound prototypical linebacker --  a tackler, a sacker, an interceptor and a leaper --  a chance to have his case heard. Because Matt Blair's career demands it. 

Note: TFL are tackles for loss, not run/pass stuffs

What is Dubious About What PFWA Just Did with 'Dr. Z' Award—Timing

By John Turney

Jeff Stoutland

Earlier this week the Professional Football Writers of America (PFWA) tapped retired defensive coordinator Richie Petitbon and active Philadelphia Eagles' run game coordinator/offensive line coach Jeff Stoutland as recipients of its Paul Zimmerman ("Dr. Z") Award --  an honor given annually to salute assistant coaches. The award first began in 2014, and Petitbon and Stoutland are the 26th and 27th winners.

Petitbon? A no-brainer. He was the backbone of Washington defenses, churning out units that were tough, smart and championship-grade. He racked up 14 years as an NFL player, 20 more as an assistant and one as head coach. His defenses posted big numbers, developed talent and snagged rings. He’s the kind of coach the "Dr. Z" Award was built for -- pure pedigree.

And Stoutland? No question. The man’s a wizard with offensive lines, turning Eagles' blockers into Pro Bowl fixtures year after year. His work is a big reason that Philly’s run game has been a juggernaut, and his players love him. So he has the credentials,

Just one question: Why now? That's my only issue here. The finalist list included heavyweights like the late Tom Catlin, the late Floyd Peters (whom I voted for), the late John Teerlinck and the retired Terry Robiskie -- guys who’d hung up their whistles long ago.

Then there’s a name like Hudson Houck, who, at 82, never made the finalist cut. Houck’s resume screams legend. At USC, he molded monsters like Marvin Powell, Anthony Muñoz, Keith Van Horne, Roy Foster, Bruce Matthews and Don Mosebar -- the best of many All-Americans. When he joined the Los Angeles Rams in 1983 under John Robinson, Jackie Slater hit his first Pro Bowl, and Eric Dickerson obliterated rookie rushing records before setting the NFL's single-season mark. 

Later, with the Dallas Cowboys, Houck built on Tony Wise’s foundation, coaching lines that sent guys to Pro Bowls in droves and cleared paths for Emmitt Smith, the NFL’s all-time leading rusher. Oh, and he picked up two Super Bowl rings along the way, too.

So, why not Houck? Or Peters, Catlin, Robiskie or Teerlinck? Why go with Stoutland, who’s still in the thick of it with only 12 years as an NFL assistant? Eagles' fans might scream that he’s the greatest O-line coach ever, and they may not be far off ... someday. But when you have coaches with full careers in the books, why not let Stoutland wait his turn? He’s still in his NFL prime, and his time will come.

The PFWA’s leaning hard into recentism here, a trap that Hall-of-Fame selectors have fallen into. Picking Petitbon along with, say, Peters, Catlin, Robiskie, Teerlinck, or even Houck, would’ve valued a  finished body of work. Instead, we have an outstanding assistant coach still adding chapters. 

So here’s my fix: Tweak the rules for the "Dr. Z" Award. Make it so that winners must be retired—maybe two or three years removed from the sideline. That way, you’re crowning legacies, not works in progress. Stoutland will get his due, no question. But let’s give the glory to those who’ve already run the race.

What About Tommy Nobis? Hall Worthy?

By John Turney 

Art credit: Merv Corning

When Atlanta CEO Rich McKay in 2021 wrote an open letter to Pro Football Hall-of-Fame voters, he gushed about former Falcons' star Tommy Nobis and referred to him as "an elite player." So how come voters didn't listen? Not once since then have they made Nobis a seniors' finalist. As a matter of fact, outside of the Centennial Class of 2020, they haven't made him a finalist, period ... modern-era or seniors.

Surprised? So is McKay.

"First pick of the franchise," he wrote. "Best player on a really bad team. Five Pro Bowl appearances in 11 years. Two times All-Pro. And he's on the all-decade team of the 1960s. So he is recognized as an elite player.”

Apparently not ... at least, not by voters. And that's puzzling. Because when Hall-of-Fame running back Larry Csonka was asked to assess Nobis, he didn't reach for the stars. He went beyond.

“I’d rather play against Dick Butkus," Csonka said, "than Tommy Nobis.”

A one-man wrecking crew at the University of Texas, the 6-4, 240-pound Nobis was built like granite slab and hit like one, too, tearing through college football in the mid-1960s. But he wasn't just a star linebacker; he was a two-way player, locking down the middle on defense while blasting open holes as a guard.

In 1963, he anchored a Longhorns' squad that steamrolled to a national championship, winning all 11 games and crushing Navy in the Cotton Bowl. By 1965, he was the gold standard in college football -- snagging the Outland Trophy as the nation’s premier interior lineman, the Knute Rockne Memorial Trophy as the best lineman of the year and the Maxwell Award as the best all-around player in the same year.

He was also a two-time All-American, three-time first-team All-Southwest Conference and someone who finished seventh in the 1965 Heisman Trophy balloting, with more votes than future NFL quarterbacks Bob Griese and Steve Spurrier.

“The Best Defender in College Football,” Sports Illustrated blared.

A cover star, his photo was plastered across all the big-time magazines, not just the ones covering sports, with Nobis and his square jaw the face of college football. So well known was he that, when he was drafted in 1965 by both the Falcons and Houston Oilers, astronaut Frank Borman -- then orbiting the earth for two weeks aboard Gemini 7 -- sent a message to Nobis via NASA's mission control.

It read: "Tell Nobis to sign with Houston."

He didn't. He chose the expansion Falcons instead, becoming No. 60 and "Mr. Falcon."

In his first season, Nobis was voted to the Pro Bowl and named NFL Rookie of the Year after a staggering number of tackles tallied by coaches. One year later, he won more votes in the AP All-Pro voting than Butkus and everyone else. Furthermore, the panel of writers for the New York Daily News named him first-team All-Pro, and did so again in 1968 -- edging Chicago's man in the middle. 

Clearly, he was neck and neck from jump street with the best in the business, and his resume proves it. With just three active seasons in the 1960s (he missed one due to injury), he nevertheless was voted to the NFL’s all-decade team -- proof that, as Minnesota's Bud Grant said, Nobis was "one of the three best middle linebackers in the league." 

And the others? Two were Butkus and Ray Nitschke. The third was Chicago's Larry Morris. Butkus and Nitschke are Hall of Famers. Nobis and Morris are not. Yet Hall-of-Fame center and former Raiders' star Jim Otto said he'd put Nobis on the same level as Butkus and Kansas City's Willie Lanier.

“I don’t think there was 30 seconds’ difference between them,” he said.

Another veteran center, Ken Iman of the Rams, said essentially the same thing in 1970 -- calling Nobis, Butkus and Nitschke the top three middle linebackers in the game. Two years later, however, he changed his mind -- labeling Nobis the best middle linebacker in the NFL.

“Tommy is the best open-field tackler I've ever seen," said linebacker Karl Rubke, who teamed for two years (1967-68) with Nobis. “I'm not saying he's the best linebacker in the league -- with guys like Ray Nitschke and Dick Butkus around. But I'd say he's as good as any of them.”

So would Morris, the other linebacker from the 1960s' all-decade team not in Canton. He spent his final pro season with Nobis, and, apparently, seeing was believing.

"Nobis is the best rookie linebacker I ever saw," he said, "and I was there (in Chicago) when Dick Butkus broke in with the Bears.”

All told Nobis was a five-time Pro Bowler (1966-68, 1970, 1972) in his first seven seasons, missing a clean sweep only because of knee injuries -- the first in 1969 and the second in 1971. Yet, that was enough for Dallas Pro Bowl running back Don Perkins to join the crowd in praise of the Falcons' star.

“I got tired of reading his press clippings," he said, "but now I'm a believer. He's the best linebacker I've ever played against.”

I think you get the point. Tommy Nobis was, as the Falcons' McKay proclaimed, "an elite player." Yet, despite the raft of post-season honors, accolades and acclaim, he's been snubbed by the Pro Football Hall's board of selectors. Only once -- in 2020, the centennial year of the NFL -- was he a finalist, but it wasn't the board of selectors that chose him. It was a specially selected panel of voters, media members and Hall of Famers. 

So what's going on? It's hard to say, but my guess is that it probably involves Atlanta's lack of success. During Nobis' tenure with the Falcons, they never went to the playoffs and lost twice as many games as they won. Moreover, they had just two seasons above  .500 and seven times won four or fewer games. 

But the Hall is based on individual achievements, not team success. So voters should look at Nobis' situation as they did Browns' tackle Joe Thomas. He didn't win, either. Yet selectors made him a first-ballot choice in 2023.

Tommy Nobis is a member of the Atlanta Falcons' Ring of Honor, the Texas Sports Hall of Fame, the Georgia Sports Hall of Fame, the Atlanta Sports Hall of Fame, the College Football Hall of Fame and the Pro Football Researchers Association's Hall of Very Good. But that resume is incomplete without the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

And the Pro Football Hall of Fame is incomplete without Tommy Nobis.

Note: "For loss" are tackles for loss, not run/pass stuffs. Numbers are

similar but not identical.