WOODLAND HILLS, Calif. -- Beaux Limmer and Justin Dedich have risen to the challenge on the Rams' offensive line. Thrust into starting roles after a season of injuries to the veteran linemen, these two are an unlikely tandem: Limmer, a bruising center from Arkansas, taken in the sixth round of the 2024 draft; Dedich, an undrafted technician from USC, now holding his own at left guard.
Between them, 698 snaps into the season, they've surrendered zero sacks. Matthew Stafford has remained clean from the left interior, and confidence in and between them is growing.
For Limmer, the journey to the NFL was rooted in strength—raw, distilled, unfiltered power, forged through hours in the weight room with his dad, chasing every ounce of potential. At 6'5", 312 pounds, he's built like a fortress, ready to stonewall any rush that threatens to push through him.
Beaux knows his strengths, and he wields them like weapons. His teammate, Dedich, describes him simply as "strong as hell"—the strength that makes double teams look effortless.
"Man," Dedich grins, "those double teams are elite. He makes movement easy, even on those big D-linemen."
It's the kind of respect that only forms through the grueling intimacy of practice, of hours spent colliding with the same bodies, making something as brutal as football appear like art.
Dedich, on the other hand, is every bit the craftsman, a technician, a student of the game who compensates for his "undersized" frame (6'2", 296 pounds) with pinpoint technique and natural leverage. He speaks about his work like an artist reflecting on steady, careful, meticulous brush strokes.
"Coach Wendy (Ryan Wendell) calls it natural leverage," Dedich notes with a smile. "I know how to use my body."
And he does. Dedich moves like he belongs, slipping into the rhythm of the line, positioning himself perfectly and finding the exact angle to win his battles. No sacks, and he intends to keep it that way.
As they both note, their chemistry was born in training camp, working with the second team, and blossomed from reps in practice to the relentless reality of games.
For Beaux, having "a feel for how Justin plays" early on was a gift, and for Dedich, playing next to Limmer comforted him in his ability to read the game.
"It's easy to make calls with Beaux," Dedich says. "When he's out there, I can trust that the communication and the calls will be rock solid."
Together, they are building something precious: an unbreakable wall where each piece relies on the other, fortified not by time but by trust and raw determination.
In the huddle, Limmer has started to assume the role of leader. His voice is clear and steady as he reads the defense, lining up not only his blocks but mapping out the line's entire attack. Early in the season, he admits, it was all about listening to Matthew Stafford's call and locking into his responsibilities with singular focus.
But now, after a few months in the league, it's different. Limmer knows where his protections need to go without calls, allowing him to "take a peek at the defense" even before taking his stance. This subtle but essential evolution shows his quick adaptation to the professional game's mental grind.
"I'd always set more vertical back in college," Limmer reflects, "but here, it's flat and quick—getting on guys fast, hands ready, shutting them down before they can move."
The weight of expectations isn't lost on them either. Both young men have felt the silent pressure, that need to "not let the group down," as Dedich puts it.
And Stafford has taken notice.
"Beaux and Ded are doing a really nice job," Stafford said. "Two young guys that you know were forced into a role or given the opportunity and have done a really nice job of executing at a high level, which is a tough thing to do as a young player in this league, especially up front."
It's a code of honor among the linemen, the idea that each snap holds a bond deeper than words, a promise to the other four men lined up beside you. The veterans have helped, too, lending guidance in moments of doubt.
"Rob (Havenstein) and Jonah (Jackson)," Limmer says, a hint of awe in his voice, "those guys… they've been everything."
With Jackson coaching him from the sidelines during games and Havenstein pushing him to take command, Limmer has become more than a fill-in or depth piece. He's grown into the role, shaping himself into a cornerstone of the line and a voice the others trust and depend upon.
Both Beaux and Justin know they're carving something permanent here that will last beyond this season. Each sack they prevent and each drive they extend is another testament to their resilience, will and faith in each other.
They came into the league unheralded—one a late-round pick, the other undrafted—yet they've coalesced into something that defies those labels. This season and this line now bear their mark: no frills, just grit, grind and technique, and a relentless, unyielding spirit that won't fail.