It was 1994, a year after Lawrence Taylor’s retirement from football, and the media people covering the Browns were told that the Pro Football Hall of Fame linebacker might make a visit to training camp that day to see his old defensive coordinator with the New York Giants, then Browns fourth-year head coach Bill Belichick, and some of his former teammates who were playing with the team, especially Pepper Johnson and Carl Banks.

“If he shows up, would it be possible for us to interview him?,” a reporter asked Browns Vice President of Public Relations Director Kevin Byrne.

Byrne kind of laughed and then, in a split-second, his face took on the look of a parent trying to make certain his children did not get too close to the bears cage at the zoo.

“No, there will be no interviews with LT,” he said. “You don’t want to interview LT.”

In addition to being not just the best linebacker in pro football history, but also the best defensive player overall, LT was a mean dude who was in no mood to stand there and be probed by reporters.

“If he does come, just leave him alone,” Byrne advised.

And so we heeded his warning and did just that.

We talked in my previous post about the Kansas City Chiefs and members of that team, specifically quarterback Patrick Mahomes and head coach Andy Reid, being scary good. But there is another aspect of being scary good, and it is that which describes players like Lawrence Taylor — and Jack Lambert, Mean Joe Greene, Dick Butkis, Dick “Night Train” Lane, Deacon Jones and Chuck Bednarik, among others. They are — or were — scary. And good. And scary good.

Steve King