Remembering Paul Wiggin: A Life Built on Football, Family, and Unshakable Integrity
The NFL community is mourning the loss of Paul Wiggin, a true football lifer whose influence spanned generations. Wiggin passed away at the age of 91, leaving behind a legacy that stretches from the trenches of the 1960s Cleveland Browns to the sidelines of Stanford and the front office of the Minnesota Vikings. His story is one of consistency, character, and quiet greatness-a name not always in the headlines, but one etched deeply into the fabric of the game.
A Relentless Force in the Trenches
Before Wiggin ever picked up a clipboard, he made his mark as a player. From 1957 to 1967, he was a rock on the Cleveland Browns’ defensive line, lining up at both end and tackle.
And here’s the stat that speaks volumes: 146 games, zero missed. In an era when the game was brutal and rosters were thinner, that kind of durability wasn’t just impressive-it was rare.
Wiggin’s toughness helped power the Browns to the 1964 NFL Championship, a title that came just before the dawn of the Super Bowl era. He earned two Pro Bowl nods during his time in Cleveland, but beyond the accolades, what really stood out was the respect he commanded in locker rooms across the league. Teammates and coaches alike knew they could count on him-not just for the big plays, but for the daily grind, the leadership, and the professionalism that elevated everyone around him.
From the Sidelines to the Front Office
After hanging up his cleats, Wiggin didn’t step away from football. He stepped deeper into it. He joined the San Francisco 49ers’ coaching staff, first as a defensive coordinator and later as an offensive coordinator-a rare transition that showed just how well he understood the game from every angle.
In 1975, Wiggin took on his first head coaching job with the Kansas City Chiefs. While his time there was brief, it marked the beginning of a new chapter-one that would ultimately define his legacy even more than his playing days.
Back to Stanford and a Young John Elway
Wiggin’s most enduring football connection may have come when he returned to his alma mater, Stanford, to lead the Cardinal football program. It was there that he coached a young quarterback named John Elway, who would go on to become one of the NFL’s all-time greats. Their time together helped shape not only Elway’s career, but also a key era in Stanford football history.
And then there was The Play-that wild, unforgettable ending against Cal that’s still replayed every November. Stanford was on the wrong side of the chaos, but the moment became part of Wiggin’s lore. It was a reminder that in college football, the drama never stops, and coaches often become part of history in ways they can’t control.
Years later, Elway reflected on his former coach with deep admiration. “He’s a tremendous human being,” Elway said in 2022.
“He was a great coach, a great man, one that I’ve always looked up to. In my mind, he’s one of the most quality guys I’ve ever met as far as integrity.”
A Final Chapter in Minnesota
Wiggin’s football journey didn’t end on the college sidelines. He spent years with the Minnesota Vikings as both an assistant coach and a personnel executive, continuing to shape the game from behind the scenes. Even well into his later years, he remained a fixture in the organization-someone who connected the present to the past.
Vikings owners Mark and Zygi Wilf remembered him fondly. “We had the honor of meeting Paul when we purchased the team in 2005,” they said. “He captivated staff members and us with his stories about the history of the franchise and the NFL.”
More Than Football
Through it all, Wiggin never lost sight of what mattered most. He was deeply proud of his family-his wife Carolynn, their three daughters, and his grandchildren.
Football was his profession, but people were his purpose. That’s the legacy he leaves behind: not just wins and championships, but relationships built on trust, loyalty, and a deep love for the game and those who played it.
Paul Wiggin’s life was shaped by football, no doubt. But more than that, it was shaped by the respect he earned and the lives he touched.
His story is a reminder that greatness in this sport isn’t always measured in rings or records. Sometimes, it’s measured in the quiet, steady impact of a man who showed up every day, gave everything he had, and made the game better-just by being part of it.