First Steps

"He's a very, very large human being," says Jaguar coach Tom Coughlin, "but he moves with the grace of someone smaller. That will be a plus against great speed rushers. Here's a man 50 pounds heavier than any premier NFL pass rusher, but he has the athleticism, maneuverability and speed to compete with them."

And the temperament, as Baylor defensive end Scotty Lewis discovered last fall. Lewis made the mistake of remarking that Boselli was not as good a run blocker as a pass blocker. "He was questioning my ability, the trade that I work so hard at," Boselli says. "I was going to make him respect me."

That Saturday, Boselli pushed the 6'3", 265-pound Lewis all over the field. On the Trojans' first touchdown, Boselli was penalized 15 yards for blocking Lewis clear through and out of the end zone. By the fourth quarter Lewis was stumbling and limping. Afterward, he claimed that Boselli was one of the dirtiest players he'd ever faced.

"I see no reason why as an offensive lineman you have to take crap from the defense," Boselli has said. "It's not in the rule book. It's a myth. You can be just as aggressive. You can be just as much of an——as the defensive guy."

The oldest of Tony Sr. and his first wife Candy's three children (Jennifer, 21, will be a junior at the University of Colorado, and Michael, 17, will be a senior this fall at Fairview High in Boulder), Tony was born in Modesto, Calif., where his father worked as a sales representative for a winery. When Tony was two, the Bosellis moved to Colorado so that Tony Sr. could go into business with his older brother, Bud, who had been awarded a McDonald's franchise. Today, Tony Sr. and Bud own 12 of the fast-food restaurants.

Always the tallest and heaviest kid in his class—his dad stands 6'1" and weighs 200 pounds—Little Tony started playing Little American football at age six, even though the minimum age for the league was eight. Tony Sr. fibbed on the application, confident that his son was already big enough to withstand the physical pounding from older boys. He also believed that Little Tony would develop into a stronger, faster athlete and would improve his coordination and his aggressiveness by playing with bigger kids.

Tony Sr. also played a more direct role in his son's development as an athlete. While driving Little Tony to games, Tony Sr. would launch into a pep talk, and on the drive home the two would grade young Tony's play. Then, father and son would head for the backyard to play more football with anyone in the neighborhood who cared to join in. When darkness fell, the game would move into the house, to a long hallway. Two-on-two Nerf football, with only one rule: Dad had to play on his knees. "Every once in a while a lamp would go over," says Tony Sr., with whom the three children lived after he and Candy divorced when Little Tony was 12. "The kids would go to bed, and I'd pass out in a chair."

Back then, father and son would fantasize about Little Tony's performing someday in the NFL. "I've wanted to play pro football for as long as I can remember," Boselli says. "I love the dedication it takes, the challenge it presents, the hard work that goes into the sport." In the Bosellis' dreams Little Tony was always a quarterback. But Sam Pagano, the coach at Fairview High, had other plans for Tony Jr., who by his freshman year was 6'2" and 190 pounds.

"I'd like Tony to try quarterback," Tony Sr. told Pagano at spring practice before his son's sophomore season.

Pagano laughed. "Tony's an offensive lineman," he said.