At a time when everything American seemed impossibly glamorous and faraway, William Perry flittered across Irish television screens in the mid-1980s and briefly captured our schoolboy imaginations.
The first gridiron footballer most of us ever had ever known, a gap-toothed behemoth with the Chicago Bears 72 jersey straining against the undulating expanse of his 23-stone frame. The Refrigerator. The Fridge. Evocative nicknames that magically transport us back to our initial teen exposure to this particular slice of sporting grotesquerie.
Marvelling at the sound and fury of gargantuan men in helmets and pads thundering into each other, none impacted more than the rookie defensive tackle so outsized he somehow made even the giant Kerry star Eoin ‘Bomber’ Liston seem small.
Perry’s shadow has loomed large these past few weeks as NFL clubs run the rule over Desmond ‘Dez’ Watson in advance of the draft later this month.
At 6ft 6in, the University of Florida lineman scored well in the various drills scouts deploy to evaluate the physical merits of the best college talent. Managing a vertical leap of one inch above two feet and clocking the 40-yard dash in 5.86 seconds, he also bench-repped 225lbs a stunning 36 times.
All these impressive numbers pale next to the most startling statistic on his resume. The 22-year-old currently tips the scales at 464lbs. In our money, 33 stone and more of defensive tackle.
Desmond Watson of the Florida Gators. Managing a vertical leap of over two feet and clocking the 40-yard dash in 5.86 seconds, he also bench-repped 225lbs a stunning 36 times. Photograph: James Gilbert/Getty Images
Desmond Watson of the Florida Gators. Managing a vertical leap of over two feet and clocking the 40-yard dash in 5.86 seconds, he also bench-repped 225lbs a stunning 36 times. Photograph: James Gilbert/Getty Images
An almost cartoonish clip of Watson rag-dolling an unfortunate South Florida running back out of his way went viral a couple of seasons back and first gained him national renown.
More recently, he enveloped Tulane’s quarterback Ty Thompson (all 6ft 4in of him) in a bear hug, lifting him three feet off the ground like a father manhandling his errant child out of a tantrum. Arguably the most viewed highlight reel came when, lining up on offense to showcase his versatility, he was handed the ball at short yardage and bulldozed through heavy traffic for a facile first down.
Florida DT Desmond Watson measured in at 6’6, 464 pounds at his Pro Day, and put up 36 reps on the bench (no player at the Combine did more than 33) pic.twitter.com/MXD16sh1Gc
— Alex Barth (@RealAlexBarth) March 27, 2025
Although he never missed a game for Florida through injury, some wonder if a character of his epic dimensions can remain healthy enough to handle the more sapping pro schedule.
Others contend he needs to shed at least 100lbs before starting a game in the NFL, a league where contracts routinely include four-figure fines for linemen who come to training camp even a pound above their prescribed weight.
For every pundit speculating how Watson’s enormity could effectively counter any opponent trying some variation of Philadelphia Eagles’ controversial tush push tactic, plenty more are pointing out he was solid rather than spectacular at collegiate level.
“He’s a unicorn,” said Florida coach Billy Napier, bigging up his charge.
“You’ll go the rest of your career, and you’ll never be around a guy that’s that stature. He’s had numerous nutritionists, numerous position coaches, numerous strength coaches, and I think this past year we probably executed the best we have.
“I think he’s learned a lot about habit building, self-discipline, and ultimately the guy’s frame score would indicate that he’s going to be a huge human. I mean, he’s 6ft 6ins, and just the density and bone structure, he’s just a big man.”
Napier’s optimistic take on his player’s habits and discipline doesn’t quite ring true. Watson was 80lbs lighter when he enrolled in Florida four years ago, so under the supervision of a small army of professional staff he’s gained serious timber. Hardly a promising sign and a development likely to trouble any team considering making somebody who is near enough quarter of a ton the heaviest draft pick ever. As late as the 1960s, clubs only owned scales that went up to 250lbs and even the idea of a 300lbs player seemed fanciful. That was then.
William (aka the Refrigerator) Perry of the Chicago Bears in 1986. His relationship with the Bears went cold once he started to pile on so much poundage it hindered his performance. Photograph: Mike Powell/Getty Images
William (aka the Refrigerator) Perry of the Chicago Bears in 1986. His relationship with the Bears went cold once he started to pile on so much poundage it hindered his performance. Photograph: Mike Powell/Getty Images
During Perry’s heyday, the average offensive tackle he matched up with weighed 286lbs. By 2000, the men holding down those positions came in almost three stone heavier, and not long after that Aaron Gibson became the first to break the 400lbs barrier.
About 20 per cent of all rosters are now made up of mammoths of 300lbs and more. In a league full of coaches who relish any opportunity to experiment and innovate, Watson’s width and weight could well intrigue somebody enough to take a punt that he could be plugged in to good effect in specialist situations.
For all that, he wasn’t invited to the recent NFL combine in Indianapolis, the traditional showcase for nailed-on college prospects. While a triplex belly on an elite athlete inevitably attracts prurient media attention, the novelty wears off quickly.
Gibson’s career was brief and pockmarked by injuries, and even The Refrigerator’s relationship with the Bears went cold once he started to pile on so much poundage it hindered his performance. It didn’t help that his freakish size and charming manner yielded appearance fees of $25,000, ensuring he became a bigger star off the field than he ever was on it.
Desmond Watson: some pundits have contended he was solid rather than spectacular at collegiate level. Photograph: James Gilbert/Getty Images
Desmond Watson: some pundits have contended he was solid rather than spectacular at collegiate level. Photograph: James Gilbert/Getty Images
That model and lifestyle ultimately proved unsustainable. Beyond the NFL, Perry briefly dabbled in boxing, performed the obligatory low-rent cameo at WrestleMania, and even entered the world of competitive hot dog eating. But he wasn’t quite six years into retirement when he auctioned off his Super Bowl ring, the largest ever made.
His post-football life in his native South Carolina degenerated into a tragic soap opera of bankruptcy, alcoholism, family feuds and chronic ill-health, including a diagnosis of Guillain-Barre Syndrome. The poster boy as cautionary tale.