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Not the San Diego running back either, but that "other" L.T., i.e., Lawrence Taylor. We had heard rumors that he was coming up to The Architect's Club to play that afternoon, but we were skeptical.

Sure enough he showed up. And there he was on a Sunday afternoon. Come to play with the course owners. And I was there to begin his round as the club starter. I watched him on the practice green playing a high stakes "friendly." "C'mon, man. Five hundred for closest to the pin."

He wasn't as big as I had expected him to be. Weird. After all, he was larger than life, right? Behind him, rode a guy in a cart, solo with some sort of ear plug device ala the Secret Service. I asked who he was and was told that his job was to follow Taylor around. "Oh so he doesn't get into any trouble?" I asked. "No. Just to make sure that no one falsly accuses him of doing anything wrong," I was corrected.

Number 56 said nothing to me nor any other staff members. "Big shot. Must think he's better than everyone else."

Later that day, when I went into the clubhouse, I saw him again. He was sitting in a chair which he had turned around (back toward the t.v.) and he was watching the Jets game. This time the guy who was there to follow him was gone. So was everyone else. For the rest of that afternoon, Lawrence Taylor watched a football game all by himself.