Taylor Back Where He Belongs

The sense of relief was all over the Giants, as broad and bright as Lawrence Taylor’s smile. Realistically, there was no way he wouldn’t be in blue for Sunday’s opener against the Eagles, but that’s precisely why the relief was so great. Taylor was in his 56 and all was right with the world. He was out there practicing, laughing with the guys at the water breaks, glistening with his presence in the locker room.

“I’m home” were the first words out of his mouth.

Just look at him standing there, his uniform tapered like an inverted pyramid from his shoulder pads to his waist. On the practice field he was a coiled spring, challenging Jumbo Elliott to block him as he will challenge the Eagles.

And nobody was more pleased than Bill Parcells, who tried to keep any fears to himself through the seven weeks of training camp.

This is a team that thinks it has a chance at the whole thing. The Giants practiced for the Eagles under the assumption that Taylor wouldn’t play, which is Parcells’ way, but in Philadelphia the Eagles practiced under the assumption he would.

“They’d be foolish not to,” said Carl Banks, the other outside linebacker.

For one thing, the kind of game Taylor plays -- try to find me if you can -- plugs into the defense with a minimum of coordination and disrupts an offense. The other thing is the ferocity of his game doesn’t need seven weeks of priming.

“The Eagles were saying, ‘If he signed Sunday afternoon, he’d be there Sunday night,”’ said Harry Carson, an MSG broadcaster after 12 seasons as a Giant linebacker, seven alongside Taylor.

He said Taylor could play the whole game if it’s not too hot. Parcells said his question is how much he can permit Taylor to play without risk.

Taylor is a football player. That’s his identity. The quality that makes him a great player is what made it impossible for him not to open the season.

“The professionalism of the player” is what George Young, who worked the company side of the negotiating table, called it. It makes him exploitable. Not that the estimated $1.6 million a year is exactly poverty -- and Taylor won’t claim it is -- but he will never learn his real worth.

His need to play is greater than his need to be paid full value, and there’s no union leadership for guidance.

“He is one of the rare ones who loves to play football,” Carson said. “I’ve seen him wearing a harness on his shoulder and play great, or play on a broken ankle. He’s got some (accumulated injuries) he’s going to take to his grave. He’ll always know when it’s going to rain.”

Bear in mind that with rare exceptions, NFL contracts bind the player to the team but not the team to the player. Taylor’s three-year contract is a sequence of one-year contracts renewed at the decision of the team.

Carson ultimately got a salary as high as $500,000, but he saw Taylor come in and leapfrog him. As good as Carson was, he recognized and respected what Taylor was.

Taylor has that quality that extends from alpha to omega, unbounded by X and O.

“Good players inspire themselves; great players inspire others to be better,” Parcells said. “I know that more than anybody.”

He saw Taylor’s value to his Super Bowl winner and contemplates a shot at another with him.

“I do have heart,” Taylor said. “I do have pride, enthusiasm. And I do have that false belief that I can’t be beat, can’t be stopped.”

Banks, who now plays in Taylor’s shadow and could be jealous, understands that, too. “He makes the whole team better,” Banks said.

Ten NFL offensive players are known to have higher salaries. “It’s the way of life,” Banks said with a note of resignation. “People come to watch the quarterback.” It’s a valid separation, except in the case of Taylor. “He’s the type of guy who can control and determine the outcome of a game,” Banks said. “It’s the ‘L.T. Factor.”’

He can do things like his 1988 exploit against Randall Cunningham, the Eagles’ fleet quarterback, coming around the far side to overtake Cunningham’s sweep around the right.

Reggie White, the Eagles’ defensive end who was the highest-paid defensive player until now, says he plays his best against the Giants because of Taylor’s presence.

Wellington Mara, who owns the team, says Taylor is the player he watches. And Mara’s team hasn’t had an seat unsold for more than 30 years.

“What’s been filling up this place?” Banks said. “Think about it. Of all the players who came through here, all the names, nobody is as big as Lawrence Taylor. You see more shirts with 56 than all the others.

“When we talk about stars -- NFL stars, not ‘defensive’ stars -- he’s one of them. Joe Montana doesn’t make $4 million because he’s a great quarterback; he’s a superstar.

“Lawrence Taylor is a great football player, not a great ‘defensive’ player. Talk about the total package: His presence is that of a superstar.”

There are stars who transcend the limits of their own game. Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson could go to an Oscar presentation and be picked out of the crowd. “Lawrence Taylor is on the next level,” Banks said. “I don’t think Bo Jackson is as big a superstar as Lawrence Taylor.”

He used both names in recognition; initials wouldn’t do. Teammates revere him. Taylor’s off-field conduct suggests I wouldn’t want him for a neighbor, but I’d want him in my foxhole.

“If people took the time, they’d like him,” Banks said. “There’s nothing phony about him; what you see is what you get. You know if he’s your friend, you’ve got a friend. If he’s your enemy, you’ve got an enemy. You know he’ll be there.”

For teammates, it’s reassuring.