Kim Wood, the NFL's first full-time strength coach as Bengals founder Paul Brown's trusted confidant, as well as an anti-drug crusader and innovator who helped transform the weight training industry, died after a brief illness Tuesday.
He was 80.
Wood manned the Bengals' strength room for the 28 seasons that spanned Brown's last season as head coach in 1975 to running back Corey Dillon's sixth straight 1,000-yard season in 2002. In between, he was in the boiler room of the first two Super Bowl teams and served as a daily mentor to such franchise legends as Anthony Munoz, Reggie Williams, and Tim Krumrie, as well as to a legion of the best-known strength coaches across the country.
When former Bengals assistant strength coach Ray "Rock," Oliver was asked to speak at one of the symposiums Wood staged in his later years to make coaches aware of how neck strength could prevent concussions, Oliver observed, "It's like speaking in front of the signers of the Declaration of Independence."
"I've lost a great friend, great coach, great guy," says Tim Krumrie, the Bengals' Ring of Honor nose tackle.
So did Munoz, the Pro Football Hall of Fame left tackle so grateful to have one last handshake with Wood at last year's Bengals Ring of Honor game. Wood, who preached no-nonsense functional football strength, always checked your grip when you shook his hand.
"He believed in the hands, the forearm, and the grip. He was on the cutting edge of core work and arm strength," Munoz says. "He understood the game so well. He understood what part of your body needed to be really emphasized to be the best."
Also taking a loss is Bengals president Mike Brown. Like his father, Brown counted Wood as a valuable resource on all things Bengals. He was a dynamic and eclectic figure in Bengaldom, at ease holding court with his always-present newspaper in one hand and maybe a biography tucked under the other.
When he first met Reggie Williams, the Dartmouth rookie who would become one of his devout followers as well as one of the NFL's great linebackers of the 1980s, Wood gave him a copy of "The Way of the Samurai," and warned he would give him a test at the next workout.
"Everybody who knew him recognized what an extraordinary personality he possessed," Mike Brown says. "He was fun and interesting to be around. He was extroverted. He was always full of ideas and plans. He attracted people. The players enjoyed being around him, and so did everyone else."
Wood also emerged as a titan when weight training exploded in the late 1960s and early 1970s, first with Nautilus and then with his own company, Hammer Strength, a cutting-edge innovation overseeing the evolution of free weights to machines.
Wood, who played running back at Wisconsin after growing up on the outskirts of Chicago, also had an influence in pro wrestling and mixed martial arts fighting. One day at Spinney Field, the Bengals' old practice site in the Riverfront Stadium days, Wood remarked rather off-handedly, "The Most Dangerous Man in the World is staying in my house."
Indeed, Ken Shamrock, one of the biggest stars in Ultimate Fighting, was in town getting training tips from Wood. He also took former Bengals special teams star Brian Pillman under his wing when Pillman went into pro wrestling.
"How many people make their mark in not just one genre, but three genres?" asks Alex Marvez, a long-time NFL reporter who covered the Bengals and is now an official with All Elite Wrestling.
"He made his mark in pro football as a trail-blazing strength coach. He made his mark in the strength world by forming Hammer Strength. And he made his mark in the pro wrestling world by guiding Brian Pillman into one of the most successful storylines of the 1990s that really changed pro wrestling with a blend of theatrics and reality that hadn't been done before. What a testament."
But where Wood left his deepest mark was in the tiny weight room at Spinney Field.
Where he trained the relentless Reggie Williams between those Monday Cincinnati City Council meetings. Where he shepherded Krumrie back from that gruesome Super Bowl broken leg to six more improbable seasons without missing a game. Where Munoz can still hear the old school music that matched the grinding mentality.
"He had a little jukebox in there, and even though he was a Midwest guy, he would play the old Bob Dylan songs. And Huggy Boy and the Midnighters. A West Coast band," says Southern Cal's Munoz. "I appreciated that. I moved back here full-time my third year, and that's what a lot of us did in the offseason. That's just what we did. Five days a week at Spinney Field with Reggie Williams leading the charge because he got here a few years before us."
A big part of the draw was that Wood tolerated no drugs in an age when steroids had seeped into the 70s. But thanks to Wood, the Bengals were ahead of the curve when the NFL instituted testing in the late 1980s. He was also working with the neck in relation to concussions long before they uttered the term, "player safety."
"He was extremely anti-steroids, which I loved," Munoz says. "He took care of his players. To him, it was all about working your tail off, eating the right things. He was totally against the chemicals."
Wood said it best to Bengals.com several years ago.
"The great athletes would do what Paul Brown talked about,' Wood said. "They had fierce hearts and they ran on their own gas. The great athletes didn't take drugs. And if you ever asked them to 'Hey, try this,' they'd probably punch you in the face. It was not a part of their ethic."
Reggie Williams, the third-round pick from the Ivy League in 1976, went on social media Wednesday to say that Wood was a big reason he played 14 years as the Bengals' most prolific tackler and linebacker with more than 1,100 tackles and 62.5 sacks in 206 games.
He was drawn to Wood immediately during that first meeting and "The Way of the Samurai."
"It's about discipline," Williams says. "An attention to the specificity of detail that allows you to overcome adversity."
Williams says Wood's emphasis on strength and leverage allowed him, at an undersized 6-1, 228 pounds for the day, to not only survive, but thrive.
According to Pro Football Reference, with 54 sacks and 788 tackles, Williams and Pro Football Hall-of-Famer Rickey Jackson are only linebackers in the 1980s with 50 sacks and 700 tackles.
"I never quit on Kim Wood in the weight room," Williams says, "and that meant I never quit on the Bengals."
Krumrie still has the anvil Wood left in his locker one day, a lasting symbol of how he made sure he was training his guys for those specific, functional football skills they needed.
"He gave me an anvil because it's an awkward weight to lift. One side is heavier than the other side. Core balance. Keep your feet apart," Krumrie says. "You work on your core because you're taking on double teams and turning your hips."
Krumrie figures "back in the day,' he hefted the anvil 150 times to each side. "You'd have to go all the way across and go slow across and not jerk it. A true motion."
So, it was fitting that as Krumrie went through his morning workout Wednesday, he got a text that Wood had passed.
"Those last 20 minutes on the rower, I probably went overboard a little bit," Krumrie says. "A few extra pulls for Kim."
Wood, of the Clifton section of Cincinnati, leaves four children and nine grandchildren. A celebration of life is to be announced in the spring.
