Rex, the topic of how the athletes of yesteryear would fare today has always intrigued me, sports philosophy if you will because no matter how much we talk, we will never know for sure. With regard to Adkins, I would love to see what would happen if you took him out of a game in 1950 and inserted him directly in 2014. Would he be a fish out of water, totally lost in the
quickness of today's game? Or would he dominate, using techniques that today's tackles
aren't used to facing. I think the answer is somewhere in the middle, but we can all agree that more time to take advantage of modern amenities would do nothing but help.
As far as other sports go, baseball would be my favorite to play god with. I think Babe Ruth would look foolish against modern pitching but I'd LOVE to be proven wrong. On the flipside, I would put Cy Young against Miguel Cabrera. Again, I think Miggy would make him look like a chump but would enjoy the outcome no matter what.
I agree that the topic of how the athletes of yesteryear would fare today is intriguing, but that isnt really what I am talking about. If you asked me, What would happen if you replicated the genetics of Doug Atkins, placed them in the body of a person born in ca. 1990 and gave him the benefits of modern strength training and sports nutrition?, I would say that the new and improved version of Doug Atkins would probably be 6-8, 330-350 lbs, and he would be just as dominant as the old version.
On the other hand, I readily concede the fact that players from yesteryear were, for the most part, significantly smaller, slower and weaker. Hypothetically extracting these men from earlier eras and instantaneously transporting them to the contemporary field, however, is patently unfair because that scenario denies them the benefits of contemporary training methodologies, which I believe that all of us would consider a competitive disadvantage. The crux of the matter, in my opinion, is that the enduring measure of greatness is to what degree did the achievements of player X tower over those of his contemporaries.
As for the Bambino, which version are you referring to, the reasonably svelte one who was genuinely considered to be fleet-footed when he first came to the majors or the rotund, 250-lb. version who graced the field late in his career? Here is a nugget to consider with respect to Ruth. Sportswriters from that era largely agreed that, if he had continued to pitch exclusively rather than play full-time in the field, he would have been remembered as one of the five best left-handers in baseball history. Not many baseball players have the god-given ability to excel on that level on the mound AND in the field.
With respect to Atkins, here are some hilarious but true anecdotes excerpted from both his collegiate and NFL careers which testify to the fact that he truly was a Natural, i.e. one of the all-time greats to ever don an orange jersey:
For most of his [NFL career,] opposing players faced him with just one thought in mind: "Don't make him mad!" Everyone knew that holding or tripping Doug was an absolute no-no, something akin to committing suicide. When angered, his contemporaries remember, Atkins inflicted the kind of devastation upon enemy lines and quarterbacks that seldom, if ever, has been equaled on any football field. . . . [Baltimore Colts offensive lineman Jim Parker said], "I never met anyone meaner than Atkins. After my first meeting with him, I really wanted to quit pro football. Finally my coaches convinced me not every pro player was like Atkins.
There is also a story about the veteran tackle of the Los Angeles Rams who ordered a rookie guard who had just held Atkins to go to him and apologize. "I've got to play against him the rest of the day," the veteran demanded. "Now you go apologize."
Interestingly, Doug's initial athletic interest was in basketball. He was, in fact, playing with the Detroit Vagabonds professional basketball team when Cleveland Browns' coach Weeb Ewbank found him to offer a pro football contract. Atkins' basketball interest came naturally enough for it was "THE" high school sport in his hometown of Humboldt, Tenn., where he was born on May 8, 1930. Only 5-2, 118 pounds his first year in high school, Doug grew rapidly and, as a senior, was an all-Tennessee star.
He went to the University of Tennessee on a basketball scholarship and immediately did well, scoring 38 points in one freshman game. . . Doug also filled in one year on the track team and won the Southeastern Conference high jump title with a 6-6 leap. . . . Gen. Bob Neyland, Tennessee's football coach and athletic director, spotted Atkins on the basketball court and marveled at the way a man so big could move so well. He knew he had to have Atkins on the Volunteers football team. "I enjoyed basketball, I was gonna forget all about football," Doug reminisces. "But they wouldn't let me."
Turning once again to opinions expressed by his NFL peers, 18-year quarterback Fran Tarkenton once described Atkins as "the strongest man in football and also the biggest. . . When he rushes the passer with those oak tree arms of his way up in the air, he's 12 feet tall. And if he gets to you, the whole world starts spinning." "One of his favorite tricks," long-term rival Johnny Unitas remembered, "was to throw a blocker at the quarterback." Two of Unitas' chief protectors on the Colts' offensive line, Bob Vogel and Jim Parker, added to the Atkins legend. "Doug was so strong he could throw me 10 feet," Vogel admitted. See
Chicago | Bears in the Hall - Doug Atkins.
Now just ponder the prospect of taking that natural strength and amplifying it with modern training methodologies.