Grier

Simple yet distinctive. This is a good way to describe the style of the 1950s era "New York Football Giants" helmet. Just a glimpse of that handsome navy hued shell with the single "fire engine" red stripe told you that Conerly, Gifford, Huff, Robustelli, Grier, Katcavage and the rest of boys were about to cause some excitement. Remember Sam Huff and the Jimmy's; Brown and Taylor? Sam's headgear, accented with the combination of mud and sod, symbolized his grit as he refused to back down from either of those legendary fullbacks. Or the lasting image of Frank Gifford's logo-less helmet resting next to his prone body much like a life-preserver in the middle of the ocean -- providing too little protection too late after he suffered a direct hit from a battleship named "Bednarik."

Robert Riger may have invented or, at the very least, significantly advanced the art of sports photography. The essence of his work is best represented by those unforgettable dark and grainy sideline bench shots of bundled Giant players. They are depicted wearing those vintage 1950s brown colored cage facemasks set against their rich colored helmets on bitterly cold and overcast late Sunday afternoons. The blanket and cape covered Giant players, identifiable only by their striking white colored two inch helmet numerals, maintained an eerie stone cold silence not unlike the comportment of transfixed soldiers waiting to reenter battle.

Rosey Grier was an integral part of the storied 1950s "NY Giants Football Giants" (wasn't that great when the "Football" distinction was needed?). But the image of his team's simple yet distinctive helmet style invokes far more memories of that glorious era than any individual Giant player ever could.