Yatesville 
Clem Lello Joins School Board 
Clem Lello Of Dupont Is The Newest Member Of The Pittston Area School Board.

Adi At A Glance 
Company: American Dream International, (adi), Division Street, Kingston.

Tuesday, January 11, 1994 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Page: 1B QUICK WORDS: L.T., MAC LAST OF DYING
BREED IN NFL 





L.T., Mac last of dying breed in NFL &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 They got their start together around the same time, back in the days when
there were still men in the National Football League who had blocked Dick &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Butkus, or tackled Larry CsonkaOr, at least, men who had tried. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Now, in 1994, the purple dusk of twilight time is cloaking their careers,
and both nearly finished playing football for pay. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 But even if the men around them are less like them than maybe Lawrence
Taylor and Jim McMahon would prefer, at least each was able to leave the field
at Giants Stadium after an NFC Wild-Card playoff game Sunday knowing the other
had been there. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 And it must have been consoling for them to know they weren't totally
alone. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Taylor, whose 13-year career with the New York Giants may come to an end if
the Giants lose their NFC playoff game in San Francisco on Saturday, is no
longer able to play the violent style of game he made famous as perhaps the
league's top outside linebacker of all time. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 After his team's 17-10 victory over McMahon's Minnesota Vikings on Sunday,
for example, Taylor was asked where he was when two of his younger, faster
defensive teammates forced a fumble deep in Giants territory. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "I was way back, watching," he joked. "I used to be up there, but now I let
them do the running and I just find a seat." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 But even if he isn't as fast or as strong as he used to be, Taylor still
plays just as hard as he did when he first came into the NFL in 1981. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 And he has that in common with McMahon, who can't throw as hard or as far
as he used to when he was at Brigham Young University, or later with the
Chicago Bears, but still is the NFL's toughest quarterback. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 On Sunday, neither a mild concussion, nor an aching shoulder, nor a
battered 34-year-old body, nor a vicious wind-chill factor could keep McMahon
from twice returning from the bench into a battle he eventually would lose. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 And even if nobody else cared, the old quarterback hunter on the other
sideline did. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Jim coming back to play, taking hits like that and still fighting, those
are the old kind of football players," said Taylor, wistfully. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Those are the guys I came into the league with. You sit back and you say,
`I remember things being like that,' but you don't see it any more." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 What you don't see are players willing to fight unless the odds are in
their favor. Big defensive players -- Miami's John Offerdahl comes to mind,
but there are others -- go on the injury list year after year. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 At least twice on Sunday, McMahon was hit so hard by Giants defenders that
his body virtually went limp. On one play, he was blasted in the head and, as
his body fell back, hit again. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "They were clean hits, but when they did hit Jim, they were knocking the
mess out of him," Taylor said. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "I thought those two guys broke his neck," said Minnesota tackle Tim Irwin
of that play. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Taylor used to hit quarterbacks that hard. He once virtually disintegrated
the leg of Washington's Joe Theismann, for example. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Theismann, if he could have, would have come back into that game on one
leg. He was that type of player. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 But today's quarterbacks are more likely to pull a hamstring running away
from contact, and then sit out a week or two to let it heal. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 McMahon, for all his eccentricities and perceived faults, showed more
courage than any other quarterback in the league when he came back to try to
lead the Vikings on one final game-tying drive on Sunday. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "Every time that son-of-a-gun comes back in, I get fearful," said
cornerback Mark Collins of the Giants. "To me, he plays better when he's
hurt." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 "You expect a guy like Jim McMahon, a man's man, a gutsy player, to do
something like that in the playoffs," said Taylor. "I would expect nothing
less from a guy like him." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 As McMahon staggered off the field, glassy-eyed, for a long post-game
recovery on Sunday, he no doubt considered the feeling mutual. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
 Bill Savage is a Times Leader sports writer. His column appears Tuesday and
Thursday.

L.t., Mac 
Last Of Dying 
Breed In Nfl 
They Got Their Start Together Around The Same Time, Back In The Days When 
There Were Still Men In The National Football League Who Had Blocked Dick 
Butkus, Or Tackled Larry Csonka.

L.t., Mac Last Of Dying Breed In Nfl They Got Their Start Together Around The Same Time, Back In The Days When There Were Still Men In The National Football League Who Had Blocked Dick Butkus, Or Tackled Larry Csonka.