What the Big Boys Eat

“I eat what I feel like,” boomed Henry Lawrence in his resonant bass voice when the Los Angeles Raiders’ giant offensive lineman was queried about his food choices. “And I do eat a big meal--once in a while.”

The 270-pound, broad-shouldered tackle, who’s a 12-year veteran of the National Football League, spoke about food while rambling off the team’s practice field here with his distinctive regal gait.

Although food seemed to be an enjoyable subject for the popular, 6-foot, 4-inch Lawrence, he was somewhat reluctant to confirm the myth that football players have notoriously large appetites.

Before assuming that the Raiders, with their tough, street-fighter image, are laden with voracious eaters, it’s worth noting that Lawrence’s free-wheeling attitude about consumption is tempered by a strong aversion to pork because “it doesn’t have a great deal of nutritional value.”

Known to be the first to arrive and the last to leave the players’ dinning room, Lawrence further reveals that occasionally he piles his plate with much more food than he actually eats.

“Sometimes my eyes are just bigger than my stomach,” he said, after, in part, denying that he was the team chow hound. Instead, Lawrence nominated the 170-pound wide receiver, Cliff Branch, as a one-time human garbage disposal who “ate like he had tapeworms, but slowed down in recent years.”

Lawrence’s thoughts on food, along with those of a dozen of his teammates, were collected during the Raiders’ recently completed training camp here at the Oxnard Hilton. The comments provide a unique insight into what some of professional sports’ largest and most powerful athletes think about food and diet today.

Many of these players, who make a living tossing similarly oversized individuals around the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, have altered their eating habits during the past several years more toward moderation than excess.

In particular, the common trait among a large number of players is the decision to cut down or eliminate red meats from their diets. Consequently, the days when some were known to eat “whole animals” have gone the way of the leather helmet.

However, someone weighing close to 300 pounds builds an appetite throughout the course of the average practice day, when the daily morning and afternoon workouts total about five hours of strenuous activity, including physical contact.

So, when the Raiders are ready for lunch, lunch had better be ready for the Raiders.

Unmistakably, the sight of several dozen players descending upon the buffet line is impressive. Oddly enough, the seven weeks of pre-season training camp are virtually the only time during the football season when the team eats as a group.

The scene is not one of a feeding frenzy with chicken bones, corn cobs or apple cores flying across the room. In fact, the atmosphere in the hotel banquet room, which serves as the dining area for the team, is subdued. Hotel employees state that the only incidents approaching unruliness were occasional outbursts of good-natured yelling and the few times Lawrence entered the room singing a few bars from his nightclub repertoire.

Nevertheless, the businesslike atmosphere is noticeably divorced from most other buffets prepared here by the fact that the portions are immense, many of the players are even larger and some of the plates strain under the load.

A typical afternoon or evening meal will feature two entrees, two hot vegetable side dishes, tossed greens, whole fruit, chopped fruit, soup, rolls, dessert and beverages. The meals are thus standard in appearance. It’s the amounts that indicate the special nature of the dinner patrons.

The quantities for a single meal feeding the 60 to 70 players, coaches and support personnel on hand at one point during training camp might include 100 steaks, 200 chickens, 50 pounds of potatoes, 70 pounds of fruit, 15 gallons of cola, 20 gallons of punch, 5 gallons of soup, 24 heads of lettuce and 15 gallons of ice cream, according to members of the Hilton’s kitchen staff.

The quantities are more than three times what would be served to the same number of nearby Port Hueneme Kiwanis Club members.

“This is the most unusual group we’ve ever had,” said Sarah Wasylewski, the Hilton banquet room manager in charge of the Raiders’ training table. Wasylewski said the amounts of food consumed by some players is amazing, despite some team members’ tendency to downplay the issue.

“They’re big people and giants in the regular world,” said Larry Kennan, a Raiders assistant coach. “They eat more than me, and I consider myself an average guy. There are some people who might be in awe of their consumption. But the players burn off a lot of energy.”

Running back Cle Montgomery speculates that the number of big eaters has not necessarily declined. The players that inhale food tend to hide it by “sneaking it in with seconds and thirds and don’t make a big deal of it,” he said.

If ever the team was going to overindulge, then the Hilton was the place. Most of the Raiders surveyed found the meals at this year’s camp far superior to the fare at their previous summers’ Santa Rosa training site. In fact, the food has been so much to their liking that some have avoided eating it.

“This is the Beverly Hills of training tables,” said Raiders defensive back Lester Hayes. “If I ate in there I’d weigh 250 pounds.”

Hayes, known for his sharp wit and sinister appearance on the field and in Nike shoe billboards, hopes to begin this season at 200 pounds--the lowest playing weight of his professional career. He is cutting his food intake by the heavy use of vitamin and nutritional supplements coupled with meals consisting mostly of seafood and salad.

Hayes said that his current approach to eating has evolved throughout his nine years of pro football.

“When a player first comes into the NFL and has money for the first time, after never having any in college, then they eat a lot of garbage food. . . . I believe that’s genetic for professional football players. Geez, for 80% to 85% of the (rookie) players, having money is a new factor in life. Due to that, you can eat yourself out of the NFL.”

“A salad bar is my destiny,” he said, while acknowledging that his weakness is oysters on the half shell.

“I tend to eat a lot of seafood and probably about 12 dozen oysters a week--and that’s an off week. I love those,” he said.

Hayes acknowledges that players several years ago were much bigger eaters than currently.

“I used to be in awe of (retired defensive lineman) Otis Sistrunk. His favorite restaurant was Lady Ester’s House of Soul Food (in Oakland). He’d have a seven-course breakfast, a 10-course lunch and a 14-course dinner with thirds of each portion. He was a human land shark.”

Another Raider shunning the training table is defensive lineman Lyle Alzado, whose notoriety for on-the-field toughness has been rivaled as of late by his pitches for fast-food hamburgers in television commercials.

“I eat a varied diet, and the foods here are not what I like to eat. I’m very health conscious,” he said after surveying the buffet line and finding only melon to his liking.

Alzado Prefers Pasta

Alzado, who is 6-feet, 3-inches and 260 pounds, avoids greasy or fat-laden foods, preferring dishes such as pasta and high-fiber items.

“Today, players have a better understanding of foods and diet. And they’re a lot more careful about what they eat. When I first started playing in the NFL (15 years ago) the guys ate everything. There were guys who would eat 10 chocolate cream pies or 39 eggs--all kinds of stuff,” he said.

One player who finds nothing wrong with the team’s training table is 260-pound offensive lineman Don Mosebar.

“Everything is prepared well here,” he said, pointing out the chicken cordon blue as a personal favorite.

Although 6-feet, 6-inch Mosebar can easily glance around and spot a player who can really “put it away,” he doesn’t recall any world-class eating demonstrations among the current crop of Raiders. For something really spectacular, Mosebar goes back to his college days at USC.

“When I want to eat, then I’ll do pretty well. On one occasion at ‘SC, this guy bet me that I couldn’t eat three large pizzas. Well, I ate the first two without any problem. But the third one was topped with pineapple and that’s where I screwed up. . . . I ate only half of that one and lost.”

Another player not selective about his diet is quarterback Jim Plunkett.

“I eat everything, but I’ll go in phases: Sometimes no meat and sometimes I’ll eat meat every day,” he said.

Plunkett said that players’ attitudes about eating mirror the concerns of the general public and change frequently.

‘Everything in Phases’

“Everything goes in phases. This year you hear more and more about roughage (fiber), and I’m working on increasing the amount I eat. . . . One year I gave up coffee, and the next year I was back at it because I need my caffeine fix. Some years I’m a vegetarian--it’s all faddish.”

Plunkett says he has seen his share of big eaters in his 15 years of pro football, but that all the physical activity tends to nullify the intake.

“Some guys eat like crazy, but they burn the calories off during workouts, or it’s just their metabolism. For others, the food sticks with them, and unfortunately I’m one of them.”

Providing a long-range perspective on football players’ attitudes toward food is Raiders head coach Tom Flores, who was also the team’s quarterback in the 1960s.

“When I played in the ‘60s, meat was the big thing, and the pre-game meal was always steak and eggs. Now we need a quick energy boost before a game and a meal full of starches is offered with things like pasta,” he said. “So, we’ve gone from all protein meals to much more vegetables and variety--a more balanced approach.”

12-Day Menu Cycle

Flores helped plan the 12-day menu cycle that was served at this year’s training table, and the number of red meat dishes was minimized. Also, exotic, spicy foods were not served at lunch because they were too difficult to digest before the long afternoon practices.

“We coaches do have an input in what the players eat, but you can’t force anything on them. We can only give them the opportunity to eat right,” he said.

None of the players on the team currently has a weight problem, according to Flores and a few of the assistant coaches queried. Surprisingly, though, there are some who do not eat enough, which can create as much of a problem as someone who waddles out of the huddle.

If a player’s weight drops below a certain designated level, then performance may be negatively affected. So, each player is checked regularly to make sure that he is within his personal weight guideline.

Despite advances in the study of human nutrition, Flores does not foresee a time when professional football players will be required to consume certain foods for optimum strength.

“There will never be a nutritional regimen. That would be like being in the service,” he said.

Underscoring Flores’ point is the team’s star running back Marcus Allen. Fresh from posing for a sports magazine’s cover story, Allen quickly ducked into the hotel snack shop to purchase some apple juice on the way to yet another meeting.

“You know what? I skimmed that book, ‘Eat To Win,’ and I haven’t followed a thing in there. Sometimes I skip eating for an entire day,” he said. “When I was living with my parents, it was essential that I ate well. Now that I’m living alone, and out a lot, I just don’t take the time to eat what’s good for you.

“My diet is really terrible.”