A Day in the Life of Lawrence Taylor

Lawrence Taylor might be having an off-year when it comes to sacks, but as the major personality of the New York Giants, the nine-time Pro Bowl linebacker has never been more popular. Tuesday is the players’ usual day off, but like most of the Giants, Taylor spends it making personal appearances. He is easily the most requested, the most expensive and perhaps the most adored Giant.

Taylor allowed Newsday to spend Nov. 20 with him to get a feel for a day in the life of Lawrence Taylor.

Noon--Taylor arrives by limousine for the Executive Sports Network luncheon in Livingston, N.J., hosted by Giants’ linebacker Gary Reasons. One of the organizers calls it a “schmoozefest” with about 150 area business executives, who paid high dollars to rub elbows with the Giants. Reasons usually hires about four Giants to attend the luncheon, which is preceded by a cocktail hour. The players are paid according to their popularity. Some make about $500; Taylor’s price tag is about $5,000. Also on hand this day are Steve DeOssie, Stephen Baker, Mark Ingram and Rodney Hampton.

All the executives gravitate to Taylor during the cocktail hour. Dressed in brown sport coat, black shirt and black pants, he smiles for pictures and makes small talk, masking what had been a frustrating morning. He had spent most of the morning meeting with accountants about a tax problem.

It hasn’t put him in the proper mood to deal with 150 execs looking to schmooze. “I’m pretty good at faking it,” Taylor says later. “I’ve been doing it for 10 years.”

2 p.m.--It’s time for autographs, the first of about 1,000 he’ll sign today. Taylor and the other Giants sit at a table, each with a stack of his pictures in front of him. The execs line up in single file in front of the players. Taylor’s line is the longest. He tries to be cordial while signing but knows former Giants’ defensive end George Martin is waiting outside to drive him to his next appearance. After 20 minutes, Taylor is restless and ready to leave, but his line isn’t getting any shorter. After asking Reasons three different times to cut off the line, Taylor gets up from the table, takes two quick pictures and leaves.

2:45 p.m.--Martin is waiting outside, ready to drive Taylor to Connecticut. “Where’s the limo?” Taylor asks.

“We’re going in this,” Martin says, pointing to a four-door Mercedes.

Martin was Taylor’s big brother for eight seasons before retiring in 1988. Martin was the person Taylor went to in times of trouble. While he was paid handsomely for the Reasons function, Taylor is doing a “freebie” for Martin, who has helped found an organization called Minority Athletes Network, Inc. Their major fundraiser is tonight. Taylor thinks the site is about 90 minutes away. The drive lasts 2 1/2 hours. Taylor gives Martin no peace the entire trip.

3:30 p.m.--It’s obvious Taylor is uncomfortable riding in the back of the small Mercedes . He continues to pester Martin about driving too slow. “Look at all that shoulder you have on the right,” he tells Martin, who is slowed by traffic. “Let me drive.”

The problem is Taylor doesn’t have a driver’s license. Last August, a judge took it away from him for 20 days for speeding. He was clocked at 101 mph. Taylor hasn’t bothered to get the license back. He’s still angry that the court clerk asked him to sign several dozen pictures just before his hearing. Thinking the judge was going to let him off, Taylor obliged. Then the judge scolded him and decided not to let him go without penalty just because he was a football player. “I just threw the license at him and left,” Taylor says.

5:15 p.m.--Martin heads for the New London shopping mall. As he pulls into the back lot, about 50 people recognize Taylor and follow the brown Mercedes. They thrust pads, T-shirts and books at him as he climbs out of the car. “You’ll have to wait until we go inside,” he says, then looks to Martin for support.

As he enters the back of a sporting goods shop in the mall, Taylor is told about 6,000 people have been waiting most of the day just to get his autograph. Former Giants Harry Carson, Ron Johnson, Terry Jackson, Beasley Reece and Robbie Jones have been signing autographs since 3 p.m. But the crowd has waited for Taylor.

Before sending the star attraction out in the crowd, the store manager tells an employee to call for more security. “I think we’re going to have some problems,” he says.

The autograph station is in front of the sporting goods store in the mall, but the crush for Taylor’s signature becomes so thick, he thinks of a better plan. He decides to have a card table slid along the line so he can go to the autograph seekers instead of them coming to him. It’s a good solution. The crowd, about 1,000 at this point, is controlled but excited. Flash bulbs pop everywhere; many scream “LT, LT” to attract his attention.

“When he first came in the league, he was just another player,” Carson says while watching the scene. “Now people look up to him and idolize him. It never really surprises me, the response he gets.”

6 p.m--The crowd tries to form some semblance of a single file while waiting for Taylor’s signature. At the front of the line, he is working like a machine. At Reasons’ luncheon, he signed his full name on his picture. Here he signs “L Taylor 56.”

For the next 45 minutes, Taylor hardly looks up, except to smile for a quick picture. “I want to get as many people in as possible,” he says later. “When I throw the pen down I don’t want to pick it up again.”

In rapid succession, he signs cups, chairs, pennants, bumper stickers, T-shirts, caps, posters, footballs, football cards, his book “LT: Living on the Edge” and money, anything from $1 to $10 bills.

One woman sneaks up behind him but doesn’t want an autograph. “I just want to touch him,” she says.

Somebody lays down a Chicago Bears’ poster. It’s one of the few times Taylor stops his perpetual motion. He looks at the poster, turns it over and signs the back.

6:55 p.m.--After signing about 800 autographs at the mall and doing three television interviews, Taylor slides into a white limo with Martin and two Giant fans in their middle 20s. They were winners of a radio contest that allowed them to ride with Taylor to a dinner at the Shennecossett Golf Course in nearby Groton, Conn.

Mike, one of the radio winners, tells Taylor he thinks the Giants will win the Super Bowl this year because his wife went into labor during Super Bowl XXI and she’s pregnant again this year and due in February.

Taylor questions whether the guy is a football fan at all. “You probably like hockey,” he challenges.

Mike tells the driver to turn on the light and rolls up his right sleeve. On his shoulder is a tattoo of a football helmet with “Giants” inscribed across it and “No. 56” at the bottom. Taylor laughs.

7:20 p.m.--After signing autographs for the radio winners and the chauffeur, Taylor arrives at the golf course. About 200 blue-collar Giant fans have paid $100 to drink at an open bar and get autographs from former Giants Martin, Jackson, Carson, Jones and Johnson. Taylor and defensive end Leonard Marshall are the only current players attending. Marshall, who arrives at about 7:40, is also making the appearance for free as a favor to Martin.

Taylor is shuttled into the back pro shop, where food awaits the special guests. Before eating his chicken parmigiana, he sees a rack of putters and begins to test two or three of them. Finally, he sits down to eat across from Jones. There is some history here: It was Jones who said during the 1987 players strike: “You follow LT and you’ll burn in hell” when Taylor threatened to cross the picket line. Today, all seems to be forgotten as Taylor and Jones make small talk.

7:55 p.m.--Taylor and Marshall enter the drunken crowd to sign autographs. While the former Giants mingle, Taylor and Marshall stand in relative safety behind a bar and sign whatever is thrust in front of them. Signing autographs is something Taylor does with mixed emotions. He doesn’t hate doing it. He just hates attitudes.

“Most of them don’t even ask for an autograph,” he says. “They just say, ‘Sign this.’ Then they get upset if you misspell their names. I’ll do some of this stuff, but somebody better have some manners.”

Later he says, “Sometimes you meet the nicest people and you can also meet the biggest (jerks). It’s really a no-win situation. The people you sign autographs for are going to love you. The ones who don’t get an autograph are going to call you a (jerk).”

8:50 p.m.--Marshall auctions off an autographed helmet and his No. 70 jersey, with proceeds going to MAN, Inc. He gets $500 for the helmet and $275 for the jersey. Taylor yells: “No checks.”

8:55 p.m.--Taylor holds up a helmet he’ll autograph for whoever wins the bidding. Minutes before, Taylor seems to be on his last legs, weary from the day’s events and knowing a tough week of practice lies ahead in preparation for the Philadelphia Eagles. But as he orchestrates the auction there is a renewed energy, like Muhammad Ali in front of a television camera. He starts the bidding at $400 and coaxes the pri ce upward. The helmet finally sells for $1,200. Taylor head-butts the winner. Then he auctions an autographed No. 56 jersey. The winning bid: $1,100.

9:15--It’s time to go home. Taylor and Marshall climb in a blue limousine for the ride back to New Jersey. Both players vow not to do this again for free, friendship or no friendship. “I don’t like it when people start taking advantage of me,” Taylor says.

Thanks to two traffic backups from construction, the ride home takes three hours. During the trip Taylor talks about:

--His past drug use and his precarious situation of being one positive drug test from being banned from the league for one season: “I can’t understand why (Dexter) Manley let that happen to him (last year),” Taylor says. “I’ve always been the type of guy who had to have the pressure on him. Now the pressure (to stay clean) is on.”

--The NFL Players Association: “What did the strike do for us? Nothing.”

--The Giants’ 10-0 start: “It’s like a roller-coaster. You just don’t know where it’s going to let you off.”

--Coach Bill Parcells: “I’d say he’s one of the top three coaches in the league to play for. You just have to understand him. All he wants to do is win.”

12:10 a.m.--Taylor’s car is at Giants Stadium, but he tells the chauffeur to drop him off at his Upper Saddle River, N.J., home. After the limo pulls into the driveway, Taylor climbs out and tips the driver with a $100 bill. He has to report for practice at 8 a.m.

“You wake up Wednesday and say, ‘Where did my day off go?’ Now you’re looking at another week of work.”

Then he shrugs: “I guess that’s the price of fame.”