DALLAS — Larry Allen had just been drafted by the Dallas Cowboys when he found himself standing in front of a couple of hundred kids attending a football camp at Sonoma State, the alma mater that made his future Hall of Fame career possible.
His coach, Frank Scalercio, knew he was testing the best player he ever coached, coaxing the soft spoken but massive offensive lineman into a few words.
"Just say no," Allen blurted out.
That was it.
"I can see that nothing's going to happen, so then I jump in and kind of close it out for him real quick," Scalercio said. "Some of the guys still laugh about it today when they're around. They talk about the first speech he made."
Allen is getting ready for another one. A big one.
After 12 dominant seasons and a Super Bowl title with the Cowboys — and two final years closer to home with San Francisco — Allen's Pro Football Hall of Fame enshrinement speech Saturday night will be on national television in front of thousands of people at Fawcett Stadium in Canton, Ohio.
Plenty of family and friends will be there — but not his mother, Vera Allen. The woman responsible for steering him away from gangs as a kid in the Los Angeles area died a year ago. The biggest public speaking gig of his life would have been the perfect time to have her around.
"I miss her," Allen said. "Whenever I'd get nervous or had a big game and got nervous, I'd give her a call, and she'd start making me laugh."
A six-time All-Pro, Allen has already cried once over the Hall of Fame — the day his name was announced. He's not ashamed to say he'll probably cry again.
"She was one of the biggest reasons I'll be up there, and I know she'll be looking down on me," Allen said.
The soft side of Allen isn't a familiar one to former teammates and opponents.
This is a man who silently bench-pressed 700 pounds — "absurd," says former teammate Daryl Johnston — in the Cowboys' locker room while players screamed and mobbed him. This was a player who made notorious trash-talker John Randle of Minnesota keep to himself when he faced the Cowboys, for fear of making Allen mad.
"He never said nothin'," said Nate Newton, one of Allen's mentors on Dallas' offensive line. "Every now and then you'd hear him utter a cuss word or hear him laugh that old funny laugh he had.
"Other than that ... " Newton said, trailing off.
Allen just played, which is how Scalercio discovered him at Butte College. That's the junior college where the lineman landed after attending four high schools in part because his mom moved him around to keep him away from gangs. Then an assistant for Sonoma, Scalercio was recruiting another player when he saw Allen throw an opponent to the ground for the first time.
"I kinda forgot about the guy I was actually recruiting," Scalercio said.
Allen ended up at Sonoma State, a Division II school, because his academic progress wasn't fast enough to get him to Division I, where he probably belonged. He was out of football and living in Los Angeles when Scalercio sent some of his L.A.-area players looking for him.
Azolla: Did you know?
50 million years ago, the aquatic weed now blanketing parts of Spring Lake grew en masse in the Arctic Ocean, then a hot lake, and absorbed enough carbon dioxide to help cool a planet dangerously overheated by greenhouse gases.