The Unforgettable Day Los Angeles Rams’ Fearsome Foursome Made Hollywood Legend John Wayne Look Small and Smile Bigger Than Ever Before

There are few men in American history whose presence could fill a room before they even walked in. John Wayne was one of them. “The Duke,” as he was known, wasn’t just an actor — he was a cultural icon. Towering at 6 feet 4 inches tall, broad-shouldered, and with that unmistakable deep, rolling voice, Wayne was the embodiment of rugged masculinity. From his Westerns to his war films, Wayne commanded attention wherever he went. But on one unforgettable day in 1968, during the filming of The Green Berets, even The Duke himself found that there were bigger men in the room — literally and figuratively.

It happened when the Los Angeles Rams’ legendary “Fearsome Foursome” paid a visit to Wayne on set. This wasn’t just any group of football players. This was a defensive line for the ages — David “Deacon” Jones, the man who perfected the head slap and coined the term “sack”; Lamar Lundy, a towering and agile defensive end; Roger Brown, the powerful defensive tackle who could bull-rush any blocker; Merlin Olsen, a Hall of Famer known for his brilliance both on the field and later as an actor; and Roosevelt “Rosie” Grier, an unstoppable defensive lineman who was as talented in needlepoint as he was in knocking down quarterbacks. Together, they were a nightmare for NFL offenses — and they were just as impressive in person as they were on the gridiron.

Wayne, no stranger to standing toe-to-toe with big men in Hollywood, had never met a lineup like this before. At 6’4”, he was used to towering over co-stars, stuntmen, and just about anyone else in a room. He had stood next to legends like Kirk Douglas, Robert Mitchum, and Richard Boone, and never felt anything less than imposing. But when the Rams’ defensive titans walked in, The Duke suddenly found himself looking up instead of down.

The moment was electric. The set of The Green Berets was already a place buzzing with energy — war scenes, military advisors, and the excitement of filming a patriotic action film in the midst of the Vietnam era. When the Fearsome Foursome arrived, it was as if a second wave of celebrity had swept in. Even hardened crew members stopped what they were doing to take in the sight.

One by one, the Rams introduced themselves, each with a handshake that could crush a brick. Merlin Olsen, at 6’5” and 270 pounds, stood nearly eye-to-eye with Wayne but had a frame that made the movie star look almost lean. Roger Brown, a massive 6’4” and 300 pounds, was solid as a rock. Lamar Lundy, at 6’7”, towered over everyone, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the set. Rosie Grier, 6’5” and 284 pounds, had the charisma to match his size, cracking jokes and lightening the mood instantly. And then there was Deacon Jones, fierce and confident, smiling that trademark grin that told you he was just as dangerous off the field as he was on it — if you underestimated him.

John Wayne took it all in with the cool composure of a man who’d faced down fictional outlaws, warlords, and gunfighters for decades. But even he couldn’t resist poking fun at the obvious. As the men stood side by side, Wayne glanced up — yes, up — at Lamar Lundy, then looked around at the group and chuckled. “Well, boys,” he said, his voice booming but laced with good humor, “I guess I’ll stick to fighting outlaws — you fellas can handle the giants.”

The crew roared with laughter. The image of John Wayne, Hollywood’s perennial tough guy, willingly admitting he was outsized was a rare and delightful moment. In an industry where image was everything, Wayne showed he was secure enough to let the joke be on him. It was the kind of humility and charm that made him not just a star, but beloved.

For the Rams players, it was just as memorable. Meeting The Duke wasn’t just meeting a movie star — it was meeting an American institution. Wayne represented the grit, toughness, and resilience that these men also embodied every Sunday on the football field. The camaraderie was instant. They swapped stories about injuries, battles (one in front of cameras, one in front of 80,000 screaming fans), and the pressure of performing under the spotlight.

Merlin Olsen, who would later go on to star in television hits like Little House on the Prairie and Father Murphy, paid close attention to Wayne. Watching him on set, Olsen noted how Wayne commanded attention without arrogance, how his quiet moments were just as important as his larger-than-life ones. It was an acting lesson Olsen would carry into his own post-football career.

Deacon Jones, never shy with his words, told Wayne that if he ever wanted to trade in his cowboy hat for a helmet, the Rams could use a man with his kind of grit. Wayne laughed, tipping his hat and replying, “I’ll leave the hitting to you, son. You’ve got the size and the shoulders for it.”

As the day went on, the Fearsome Foursome stayed to watch a few scenes being filmed. The set decorators and camera crew made room for them near the monitors, and it was almost comical to see the massive linemen huddled around watching the takes. Between shots, Wayne would wander over and talk with them, asking about their upcoming season and joking about how they’d probably make great cavalrymen if they could fit into the saddles.

The visit wasn’t just a photo opportunity — though the photos from that day became instant classics. It was a genuine meeting of two worlds that rarely collided: Hollywood glamour and NFL grit. Both arenas demanded discipline, toughness, and the ability to perform under pressure. And in both, legends were built not just on talent, but on character.

By the time the Rams’ stars left the set, there was a mutual respect that hung in the air. The players had met a man who embodied many of the values they lived by, and Wayne had spent an afternoon with men whose physical power was matched only by their camaraderie and good humor.

Years later, those who were there still talked about that day. It was the day when the Hollywood cowboy who never backed down from a fight stood among five men who could probably sack a buffalo, and rather than trying to outdo them, he laughed and joined in the fun. It was a reminder that sometimes the biggest man in the room isn’t the tallest or the strongest — it’s the one who makes everyone feel welcome, even when he’s momentarily dwarfed.

And so, in 1968, on a film set in the heat of the Vietnam War era, The Duke stood with the Fearsome Foursome and discovered something rare: a moment where he could be part of the background, and it was perfect. That photograph — Wayne in the center, flanked by giants — tells a story of mutual admiration and timeless charm.

The legend of John Wayne didn’t shrink that day, even if he looked smaller in comparison. In fact, it grew. Because real strength isn’t just about stature — it’s about knowing when to share the spotlight. Wayne knew it. The Rams knew it. And for those lucky enough to witness it, it was a story worth telling for decades to come.