Today, he will watch from the sidelines in St. Louis, his streak of consecutive starts snapped after 15 games.

“I knew something was wrong right away,” Todd said of the freak injury. “You’d like for it to not happen at all, but it’s better to have it happen now than have it happen at the beginning of the season and have to deal with it the whole year.”

Todd is now hobbled by an orthopedic boot, and the grass on the practice fields at the Falcons training complex in Flowery Branch is brown and partially covered with snow. So ends another non-winning season for the NFL team from Atlanta.

“It was basically like a roller-coaster ride this year,” said Todd, in his third season with Atlanta (7-8). “There were times when we thought we were doing really well and that we were going to have a great season. And then those few games get thrown in the mix and just kill us.”

Todd still gets upset when he thinks about the Falcons’ two overtime losses to San Francisco. And every time he takes a step, he feels the pain of last week’s 21-14 loss to the Dolphins, which eliminated Atlanta from playoff contention.

“Just two or three plays and our record is 10-and-whatever and we’re in the playoffs,” Todd said. “It does frustrate you when you think about it like that. But I try not to think about it too much because it just makes it even worse.”

The Falcons hit bottom, in Todd’s estimation, after their worse-than-the-score-indicates 24-10 loss to New England on Nov. 4.

“They came out and put it to us,” Todd said of the Patriots. “I know if I had a game that I’d want to do over, and I think it’s the same feeling for most of the players on the team, it would be that New England game.”

For better or worse — probably worse — the team’s performance that day was overshadowed by the unfortunate behavior of a small group of spectators seated in the “friends and family” section of the Georgia Dome. Insults were hurled. So were cans.

But things got better. Atlanta rebounded to win its next three games, including a 23-20 stunner at Green Bay.

“That was a big win for us,” Todd said. “I don’t think many people gave us a chance of winning that game. I think that was the high point of the season.”

Todd’s foot injury would be a low point, although pain is part of the NFL job description. Todd played 15 regular-season games this season, and he still feels every one of them.

“Everything hurts,” Todd said. “You just have little things that nag you and stay with you the rest of the season. Both my thumbs are jacked up. I’m constantly jamming them. My knees have been a little sore just from playing on the turf. My neck has gotten better but it still bothers me. My lower back. You name it.”

Completing an entire season is a badge of honor for a lineman, especially one who sat out his rookie season with a knee injury and didn’t get his first career start until the ninth week of last season.

“You feel good about yourself when you make it through a whole season,” Todd said. “When you get an injury, you feel like you’re letting people down.”

Especially when you have a local newspaper following your every move week after week. Offensive linemen usually anticipate anonymity each season. They don’t worry about dealing with the press — unless they happen to give up a sack or two.

So when Falcons director of communications Aaron Salkin approached Todd about my idea for the weekly “On the Line” column, Todd wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Was this some sort of joke?

“I was kind of shocked at first,” Todd remembered. “And then I thought it would be a neat deal to have this guy following me around every week and pestering me and asking questions and writing embarrassing things about me in the paper — which, by the way, you didn’t have to tell Roberto about.”

Ah yes, the embarrassing things. Somehow, rookie lineman Roberto Garza got his hands on a copy of last week’s paper, in which I, with the help of Todd’s mother, painted quite a domesticated portrait of Todd as a young boy.

“I walked in the meeting room and everybody’s eyes went on me,” Todd said. “They’re all laughing and Roberto starts asking about sewing and baking and all kinds of stuff. It was really embarrassing, you know.”

But, Todd admitted, he learned to like reading about himself every week. So did his parents and the rest of his relatives back in Baton Rouge, La.

“I’ve saved all the stories,” Todd said. “And (my wife) Heidi is going to put them in a scrapbook. I was really excited about it and I thought it came out really well.

“I just think we need to get a new writer next year.”

After The Season

• Healing: Doctors say Todd needs about a month for his sprained foot to heal. The rest of his body may take longer. “Once the offseason gets here, things start to heal up,” Todd said. “If you have something that starts bothering you in the first week of the season — say you have a jammed thumb or something — it’s still going to be bothering you all the way to the last week of the season because you don’t have time to rest it.”

• Hunting: Todd and wife Heidi are heading to Baton Rouge, La., later this week and will stay there for a month. Later in January, Falcons players Keith Brooking and Doug Johnson are heading to Louisiana for a hunting trip with Todd.

• Hoping: Todd will be a restricted free agent after the season. Atlanta has the right to match any offer Todd gets from another team. “I’d like to think that I would be their guy,” Todd said of the Falcons. “I’d like to sign a contract and stay here because I really like it here. The Lord’s got a plan and whatever happens, happens.” Last week, it was reported that Atlanta officials notified Todd’s agent that they’re interested in having him back next year.

I mean, Todd’s a pretty big guy. How do you think he’ll react when he learns that I told the world he grew up liking to bake, sew and shop. Or what about the fact that if Todd weren’t an NFL lineman he’d probably be a nurse? What’s he going to do when he finds out I told everybody that?

Probably nothing, actually. Todd’s just not your stereotypical lineman.

“People think that most linemen are the big, dumb, thug, grunt, run-through-walls kind of guys,” Todd’s father Leo McClure said. “He’s really a lot different than that.”

In fact, those who know Todd best describe him as just the opposite. They use words like introspective, patient, sedate, considerate, thoughtful, gentle, compassionate.

“He’s a big teddy bear,” said wife Heidi McClure. “I guess you would think a big huge guy wouldn’t be as sweet as he is.”

Added mother Brenda McClure, “He may be aggressive on the field, but he’s really a tender person. Because of his tenderness and sweetness, we didn’t know that on the field he could pull off what he pulls off.”

Brenda remembers a boy who often would rather spend time with mom in the kitchen than dad in the gym. When Todd was a youngster, he was the last of the McClures’ three sons that Brenda thought would be a professional athlete.

“Out of the three, he would be my daughter,” said Brenda, adding that Todd really enjoyed sewing and other crafts in addition to baking. “He wouldn’t mind shopping and he liked trying on clothes. He liked coming home from shopping and putting clothes on and seeing how they looked. He liked all that stuff. He still does.”

Still, Todd was quite the jock growing up, as well. He played football, basketball and baseball from the time he was 8 years old. He dreamed about becoming a pro athlete. He practiced signing his autograph over and over again.

Todd was always a big kid. In Little League baseball, there wasn’t a helmet that could fit his head.

“So it just sat right on top of his head. It came about halfway down,” Leo said. “He was obviously the biggest kid in the whole league. He was just thick everywhere. He hit like 36 home runs. When he’d come up they’d line up at the fence because they were on a small field and he was so huge.”

Neither of Todd’s parents are large people. Leo stands 5-foot-9 1/2, Brenda 5-7. They always thought Todd would stop growing. He never did. He’s now 6-foot-1 and 286 pounds.

But Todd always had speed to go with his size. He was an all-state catcher in baseball at Central High in Baton Rouge, La. In football, he played defensive tackle and tight end.

And, perhaps most interestingly, Todd played point guard in basketball until the 11th grade. How many other NFL linemen can say that?

“It made him nimble and light-footed,” said Leo, who played and later coached basketball at Southeastern Louisiana University. “He had to move around with some awful quick guys. I was always amazed at the quickness of his feet and his hands.”

Still relatively small for a lineman, Todd relies on his athleticism to compete with his usually larger opponents.

“You’ve got to know your assignments and be good with your technique,” Todd said. “I can’t get away with as much as a guy with more size. He may use bad technique, but still just overpower somebody. I can’t get away with that.”

Todd’s mind also makes up for his lack of mass. He relies on his intellect — an attribute not often associated with the men in the trenches.

“As far as linemen not being very smart, I don’t know where that came from,” said Todd, who originally went to college to become a nurse before switching to a business major when a football career became a possibility. “Because the majority of what we do is mental. You’ve got to be really smart to be able to make some of the blocking calls and some of the adjustments.”

And the same goes for keeping your cool in the kitchen, I suppose. What if you run out of something like half-and-half? You’ve got to be able to think quickly on your feet then too, right?

“He likes to cook,” Heidi said. “And he’s very good. He’s a better cook than I am.”

Cooking. Sewing. Baking. I wondered how many Falcons knew all of Todd’s hidden talents. So, I went to the man himself.

“Oh my goodness. Here we go,” sighed Todd, who had known for weeks the secrets his parents had spilled. “Do I have to answer this question?”

“Well …,” I began.

“I don’t know,” Todd continued reluctantly. “I enjoy cooking. I don’t do a whole lot of sewing anymore. I used to back in the day.”

“And how many of your teammates know about all this?” I asked.

“Not very many,” Todd replied with a very un-teddy-bear-like stare. “And hopefully not a whole lot ever will.”

Good thing Todd and the rest of the Falcons are busy today.

Did You Know?

Todd and his older brother Trey were both captains and All-Americans in different sports at LSU in 1998. Todd, obviously, played football for the Tigers. Trey played baseball and won two College World Series titles at LSU. He later went on to play in the Chicago Cubs farm system.

Atlanta Falcons linemen Ephraim Salaam, left, and Todd McClure play the popular family card game UNO daily in the team's locker room.

“You’ve got to be able to strategize,” Todd said. “You’ve got to be able to know what your opponent is thinking.”

Todd, of course, is talking about the popular family card game UNO.

“You’ve got to try to be able to stack up a bunch of Draw Twos, Reverses and Skips,” Todd continued with urgency, “so you can play them back-to-back and go out before your opponent expects it.”

Every day, during the hour reporters tend to spend huddled around the Falcons players that rack up fantasy points, Todd and Ephraim Salaam — two offensive linemen — break out the UNO deck and play round after round.

Last season, Salaam and former Falcons offensive guard Anthony Redmon played daily and kept a running tally of the results. With Redmon gone, Todd — next on the UNO depth chart — stepped in to challenge Salaam.

“We haven’t been keeping score this year, though,” Todd said. “Because I know it would probably hurt Ephraim if I took the trophy from him.”

Ah yes, the trophy.

Engraved “Millennium UNO Champion,” the trophy is prominently and proudly displayed in Salaam’s locker at the Falcons training facility in Flowery Branch. It’s a tall prize for a tall man. Salaam stands 6-foot-7 and weighs 300 pounds.

“Ephraim’s pretty good,” Todd said. “I like to think I’m pretty good, too. Ronnie Bradford claims to be the best in here. But when Ephraim hears that, he always just points to his trophy.”

The trophy was tarnished recently. The gold figurine that once stood so stately on its top snapped off, breaking the trophy in two.

Todd and others say the trophy simply fell over. But Salaam blames vandals, teammates jealous of his mad UNO skills.

“Those bastards,” Salaam said under his breath.

Bradford, the veteran cornerback, said he wasn’t responsible for the trophy’s tumble. But he hinted that Salaam had it coming.

“The linemen cheat,” Bradford said with disgust. “They make up their own rules. I just got tired of it.”

“There he goes with the right rules thing,” Salaam said when he learned of Bradford’s comment.

Although Bradford was one of the first Falcons to introduce UNO to the locker room, he rarely plays anymore. Salaam runs the show and keeps the cards in a zip-lock bag in his locker.

So who gets to play? “I have to deem you worthy,” Salaam said. And Salaam is not easy to impress.

Offensive guard Travis Claridge was banned after just three games. “He has the brain capacity of a small grapefruit,” Salaam said.

Offensive tackle Michael Thompson met with a similar fate. “He can’t shuffle,” Salaam said. “We call him ’sausage hands.’”

Rookies are never welcome.

“They made that very evident,” first-year offensive lineman Roberto Garza said.

Rookies are allowed to watch, though. And Garza has studied Salaam’s strategies. He’s familiarized himself with Todd’s tendencies. He thinks he has what it takes to be an impact UNO player next season.

“I’m thinking about going to some UNO camps during the offseason,” Garza said. “And I’m going to watch tapes of past UNO championships.”

For now, however, the games will remain just Todd and Salaam. One on one. Lineman against lineman.

Ephraim Salaam is rather proud of his UNO trophy.

Salaam said he started playing UNO during wild weekend nights at San Diego State University. Salaam’s UNO parties would get out of hand, attracting six — sometimes seven — people.

“It used to be so much fun,” Salaam said, pausing to caress his UNO trophy. He often does that.

“He went and got that trophy made,” Bradford said. “Anybody can get a trophy made. He went to one of those little trophy shops and had one knocked out.”

Salaam says that’s just not true. It was Redmon who bought the trophy.

“He had to,” Salaam said matter-of-factly. “Because I was the Millennium UNO Champion.”

Heidi McClure, wife of Atlanta Falcons center Todd McClure, holds son Maverick during the Falcons 28-10 loss to New Orleans last Sunday at the Georgia Dome. Heidi is one of few Falcons fans who watches the offensive line on every play. “I watch him to see if he gets his guy,” Heidi said. “And every time he goes down, I’m watching to make sure that he gets up.”

You guessed it. Shopping.

But, to be honest, there wasn’t much else worth talking about during the fourth quarter last Sunday inside the Georgia Dome.

Falcons wives certainly didn’t want to discuss what was happening on the field. Their husbands were in the throes of a 28-10 loss to the New Orleans Saints, making a trip to the playoffs seem improbable.

So, as the clock wound down, Heidi McClure and Diane Chandler talked clothing. But 6-month-old Maverick McClure slept through it all.

Snug in his mother’s arms, little Maverick snoozed while New Orleans scored 14 unanswered points in the second half.

I looked over at Maverick and realized he had exactly the right idea.

Three hours before game time, however, Maverick was wide awake. And he couldn’t stop drooling.

Heidi, wife of Atlanta’s starting center Todd McClure, was running ragged around her Sugar Hill home trying to get ready for the game. She and Brenda McClure, Todd’s mother, took turns dabbing Maverick’s mouth.

At one point, Maverick was handed off to me, the sports writer who just happened to be standing in the kitchen.

“If they weren’t here, I wouldn’t be able to do it,” Heidi said of her in-laws. “I’d be going to the game with my hair in a ponytail.”

Brenda and Leo McClure, Todd’s father, drive to Atlanta from Baton Rouge, La., for every Falcons home game. By 10:30 a.m., Leo had already headed down to the Dome by himself. He likes to get there early “to take in all the sights.”

Todd — after eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a game day tradition since high school — was out of the house by 8:45 a.m., on his way to a more recent tradition, picking up left guard Bob Hallen.

Likewise, Heidi and Hallen’s wife Heather have car-pooled to home games together for the past two seasons.

“Once I pick up Heather, she can make me nervous,” Heidi said. “She’ll be nervous. And when she’s nervous, I’ll get nervous.”

Heidi and Todd have known each other since middle school. But they didn’t start dating until their senior year at Central High in Baton Rouge, despite the strong forces that were pushing them together — their fathers.

“Her daddy had Todd picked out for her in the eighth grade,” Brenda said.

Heidi caught Leo’s eye as a member of the high school dance team.

“Leo said, ‘Look at that long-legged girl. I’d love for my boy to hook up with her,’” Brenda remembered. “We both got our wishes.”

But Heidi was a tough sell.

“Actually, I didn’t even like him at first,” she said with a chuckle, trying not to let Brenda hear.

Before they started dating, Todd tried to sneak a kiss from Heidi on the field after a football game.

“He was like, ‘Just kiss me on the cheek,’” Heidi said. “I was like, ‘No.’”

But, later that year, Todd asked Heidi to homecoming, and they’ve been a couple ever since. They married in January 1999 after Todd’s senior season at LSU. They purchased their current home after the Falcons made their move to Flowery Branch official.

“Hopefully we’ll be here next year,” Heidi said. “Our contract is up at the end of the season. Heather’s is, too.”

It’s hard to plant roots when you’re an NFL wife. You never know where the next job will be. You never know if there will be a next job.

“That’s one of the hardest parts,” Heidi said. “It’s always in the back of your mind. And then you get close to so many people and make good friends. We’ve had so many people leave that we were close to. That’s really hard for me.”

When we picked up Heather, she carried her baby daughter Brianna with her. Several Falcons had babies during the offseason. And they’re all about the same age. Hmmm.

“It was that San Francisco game,” Heidi said with a knowing nod. The Falcons had away games in San Francisco and Oakland on consecutive weekends surrounding Thanksgiving last season. The team decided to stay on the West Coast for the holiday.

“They paid for us to go,” Heidi said. “All the wives went” — she paused — “and got pregnant.”

Players’ wives and families have special parking privileges at the Dome. They enter through a special doorway and sit in special seats, right behind the Falcons bench.

“Oh God,” Heidi said as two men — one bedecked in Bourbon Street beads, the other in New Orleans black and gold — sat down in our row.

Atlanta Falcons center Todd McClure holds his son Maverick after last week’s 28-10 loss to New Orleans at the Goergia Dome. “(Seeing Maverick) helps you get your mind off of stuff,” Todd said. “Until we go in and watch film tomorrow.”

“Todd’s uncle,” Heidi said covering her face.

Unfortunately, those Saints guys had plenty of reason to celebrate. After an early Falcons touchdown, New Orleans scored twice in less than a minute to take the lead for good in the first quarter.

And Maverick was all smiles. Ah, to be 6-months old again. No worries. Just sleep and eat. Drool? No problem. Help is on its way.

Maverick likes to sit back and stare at the colorful flags that dangle from the Dome’s roof. He is mesmerized by the cheerleaders’ pom-poms.

But really, what young man isn’t?

Early in the fourth quarter, Saints fans at the Dome tried to start “the wave.” Yes, there were enough Saints fans there to make the attempt a success. And yes, people still do “the wave.”

When New Orleans scored again to go up 28-10 with more than eight minutes left to play, Falcons fans headed for the exits. The Falcons wives remained in their seats.

“When it gets going like this,” Heidi said, “it gets to be really long.”

And that’s when it’s time to talk about shopping — or fall asleep and dream about pom-poms.

They clutched their Sharpie pens tightly, and wandered the floor of the Gainesville Bowling Center, quizzically looking up and down from their Atlanta Falcons team photos.

“Um, do you know where the players are?” one of them asked. This was last Tuesday, during the Falcons annual Bowling for Kids charity fund-raiser.

Without the uniforms, sometimes it’s tough to tell exactly where the players are. With a polo shirt on and a cell phone clipped to his belt, Falcons fullback Bob Christian could just as easily pass for Bob from accounting.

Most players just look like normal guys. Granted, really big normal guys. But isn’t everybody really big when you’re 7 years old?

“One of them is right over there,” I told the kids.

The boys looked behind them at Falcons starting center Todd McClure. Then they looked down at their team photos again. They still weren’t sure.

“Who is he?” they asked.

“Trust me,” I said.

The kids took my word. And Todd greeted them with a smile and scribbled his name and jersey number near his face on the photos.

The kids said thanks and walked off. Maybe they’d go home and look up who No. 62 is on the Internet.

Playing a professional sport that requires a helmet doesn’t do much for your Q-rating. Neither does being an offensive lineman.

Most NFL players don’t get a lot of “face time” unless they’re lucky enough to sign a contract to eat Campbell’s Chunky Soup every day on television.

Still, Todd likes to get out and meet the public. He often volunteers to appear at autograph signings and charity events.

“I enjoy it,” Todd said last Saturday during a Toys for Tots autograph signing at the Venture Mall in Duluth. “A lot of times you don’t realize how many people know you or know about you that come in. And you get to meet them personally, and that’s neat to meet your fans.”

One hundred percent of the profits from Saturday’s signing, sponsored for the third year in a row by Venture Sports, went to Toys for Tots. Celebrities, including several Falcons players, donated their time. The price of admission for fans was an unwrapped gift valued at $10 or more.

Tuesday’s Bowling for Kids event raised more than $50,000 for the Boys & Girls Clubs of Hall County, Challenged Child and Friends Inc. in Gainesville and the Falcons Youth Foundation.

“Just any little thing you can do to help out kids and give them something makes it worth the while,” said 24-year-old Todd, who became a father for the first time last summer. “I guess sometimes I can take it for granted, because I always had stuff growing up. You’ve got to think about kids that don’t have it.”

Todd sat next to place-kicker Jay Feely at the Toys for Tots signing.

An offensive lineman and a kicker. It was the all-under-appreciated table.

Todd and Feely talked about the fact that neither one has appeared on a football card yet. Then Todd recounted the story of second-year receiver Brian Finneran, who didn’t know he had his own card until a kid approached him after a game with a stack of them.

Finneran signed some — and then asked if he could keep one for himself.

The Falcons fans that visited the Venture Mall were a quiet lot. Those that did speak, didn’t say much other than, “Good luck, tomorrow.”

The silence usually means that the Falcons have been winning. During tough times, disgruntled fans will often appear at signings not so much for the autographs, but for the captive audience.

“When you’re not winning, fans just want to ridicule you and tell you what you’ve done bad,” Todd said. “They come up and give you their opinion. And you’ve just got to sit there and bear it.”

Earlier this year, Todd had a captive audience of his own. For the second year in a row, he volunteered as an offensive line coach during spring practice for Collins Hill High in Atlanta. It’s part of the NFL’s Youth Football Program.

“I really enjoy it,” Todd said. “It’s something that I hope to do when I get done playing.”

Some of the Collins Hill team even took Todd, an avid fisherman, out to some local ponds. Todd keeps in touch with some of his players and followed Collins Hill’s progress through the season.

“So how did the team do?” I asked.

“I don’t think they made the playoffs,” Todd said. “Their quarterback got hurt.”

“It wasn’t the offensive line’s fault, was it?”

“Oh no,” Todd replied immediately. “It’s never the offensive line’s fault.”

Signing Day

Todd signed his first autograph after he earned his scholarship from LSU. Since then, he has signed thousands.

“When you do a lot in row,” Todd said, “your hand starts cramping up. They start off looking all right. But once you start signing more and more, you just scribble something down and put your number by it, because fans have a tough time reading it.”

December 2, 2001 — Forty seconds. For most of us, it’s enough time to grab a beer, head to the bathroom, or take in yet another self-promotion of FOX’s primetime lineup. (Kiefer Sutherland hasn’t gotten this much screen time since he was engaged to Julia Roberts.)

Forty seconds. For NFL players, its barely enough time to catch your breath.

“It feels shorter than that,” Atlanta Falcons starting center Todd McClure said. “It feels a lot shorter. Because, by the time you get back to the huddle, you get everybody organized, everybody gets up off the ground, Chris (Chandler) calls the play and we’ve got to get right back up there.”

Still, those seconds are crucial. They are filled with psych jobs and strategizing — and they are almost as important as the action-packed seconds fans tend to focus on.

“I would say, for the most part, fans don’t realize what goes on,” Todd said.

This is what goes on.

After an offensive play is whistled dead, Falcons quarterbacks coach Jack Burns, from upstairs in the coaches’ box, decides what play to run next. Via headset, he relays the call to head coach Dan Reeves, who then relays it to quarterback Chandler, who has an earpiece in his helmet.

Chandler, then, passes the play on to his teammates. That’s the easy part. When the huddle breaks, the mental game begins.

As Todd approaches the line of scrimmage, his eyes take snapshots of the defense — every lineman, every linebacker, every defensive back.

“The center makes the majority of the blocking calls,” Todd explained. “A lot of the things that the other linemen do is based on the call that the center makes.”

And the call that Todd makes — be it “Triple!” or “C-Scoop!” or “Gap it!” — is based on what he sees.

“A lot of times you are looking for little subtleties that will tip you off to what they’re about to do,” Todd explained. “If you see one of the safeties walking up and another safety shifting over to the middle of the field, you know there could be a possible blitz.”

On the line, it’s like a high-stakes poker game with painful consequences. Opponents study one another closely. They’re looking for the other guy to unwittingly reveal a tell, some hint of what the he’s going to do once the ball is snapped.

“Some guys, if they’re going to slant inside, they’ll bend their knee a little bit a certain way or turn their foot a certain way,” Todd said. “Little things like that will help tip you off. A lot can be learned from studying film.”

And it works the other way, too.

“As much as possible, you’ve got to try to get into your stance the same way every time,” Todd said. “You can’t let anything look different that would tip them off.”

That football is such a cerebral exercise would likely surprise most folks. Even more startling, perhaps, would be the fact that linemen — long labeled the simpletons of sport — are the ones doing a good bit of the thinking.

And they have to do it all with guys like Warren Sapp jawing in their ear.

“There are some players that talk more trash than others,” Todd said, “but for the most part, it’s such a mental game that you don’t have a whole lot of time to do all of that. But, still, there are players that talk trash.”

Carolina defensive tackle and Columbus native Brentson Buckner comes to mind for Todd. When the teams played Sept. 23, Buckner let Todd have it.

“Sixty-two?” Buckner yelled, reading Todd’s uniform number incredulously. “Who are you? We ain’t never heard of you. You a little man. What you doin’ out here on the football field?”

Does 6-foot-1, 286-pound Todd — “little” by lineman standards — respond?

“Not a whole lot,” Todd said. “But if somebody is talking a whole lot of trash, and maybe I get a good block on him, then maybe I’ll say something to shut him up a little bit.”

Todd said it’s best that the television microphones don’t pick up most of these verbal sparring matches. Football might lose its PG rating.

“There would be a whole lot of beeping going on out there,” Todd said.

But Todd knows he gets paid to block, not to blab.

“You’ve got to concentrate on what you’re doing,” Todd said. “And if you let somebody else get in your head, then you’re not concentrating on your job. You can’t get in that kind of mind game with them.”

When the ball is snapped, however, the guessing game ends. Brawn takes over for brains. Then the whistle blows.

And the 40-second dash starts all over again.

But in the NFL, life on the road doesn’t last very long. During the season, it’s possible for players to maintain a relatively normal home life.

“You’re only gone at the most eight to 10 nights out of the year,” Atlanta Falcons starting center Todd McClure said. “Whereas in baseball, they could be gone for an eight to 10 day road trip.”

Sit back and enjoy as Todd takes Times readers on the road ride for the Falcons surprising 23-20 win at Green Bay last Sunday. But don’t blink.

“They go by pretty quick,” Todd said. “You don’t have time for a whole lot. You go out and play, and then you’re back home again.”

• The practice: At 9 a.m. Saturday, the team watches film of Friday’s practice at the Falcons complex in Flowery Branch. That’s followed by a brief walk-through of a dozen or so key plays. Then the players are sent home.

• The flight: At noon Saturday, Todd met the chartered bus for the airport at the Falcons old training center in Suwanee. Three busses — one in Suwanee, one in Flowery Branch and another at Camp Creek — are available to the players for transportation to the airport.

The busses drive the players right up to the team’s chartered plane.

“It’s different from a regular flight,” Todd said. “A lot of times guys are standing up in the aisle talking, doing whatever they want. Because everybody knows everybody on the plane it’s a lot less organized than a normal flight.”

The coaches sit in first class. The players sit in coach. Some play cards. Some listen to headphones. Todd likes to get his homework done.

“(Offensive line) coach (Pete) Mangurian passes out a play sheet,” Todd explained. “He’ll have every defense they run against every offense we run, and we have to block them up on paper.”

There’s also an in-flight movie. This week it was “Remember the Titans.”

“Pretty good movie,” Todd said.

• The hotel: Busses were waiting for the Falcons when they exited the plane. They went directly to the Radisson Hotel in Appleton, Wisc. It was 3:30 p.m.

First thing Todd does? He changes his clothes. Suits and ties are mandatory on the plane.

“That’s coach (Dan) Reeves,” Todd said. “That’s just one of his rules.”

And then?

“And then we’re free,” Todd said. “Free for the rest of the night until 11 o’clock curfew.”

Nothing like a Saturday night in … Appleton?

“Lots to do, man,” Todd said facetiously.

Right guard Travis Claridge, Todd’s road roomie, went for a walk to some nearby shops. Some players went to the movies. Others visited family and friends, if they had any in the area.

And Todd? After watching some college football on television, he joined receiver Brian Finneran and quarterback Doug Johnson and headed over to place-kicker Jay Feely’s room for a card game called “booray.”

“I think Doug won the most that time,” Todd said.

Todd, Finneran and Johnson then headed downstairs to a steak house for dinner — the players were given a $99 meal per diem — and they were back in their rooms before the start of the Florida-Florida State game.

At halftime, Todd headed down to the Falcons private conference room and watched some last-minute film of the Packers with Claridge, left tackle Bob Whitfield, tight end Reggie Kelly and rookie guard Kynan Forney.

Then it was back up to the room. Todd was already asleep when tight ends coach James Daniel came knocking at the 11 p.m. curfew.

“It’s not bad,” Todd said of gameday eve. “You get a chance to hang out with the guys. It’s not boring.”

• Gameday: The Falcons may now be 3-1 on the road, but Todd prefers the comforts of home.

“I like staying at home, sleeping in my own bed,” Todd said. “Because those beds up there were horrible. Everybody woke up and their backs were hurting.”

Wake-up time was 7 a.m. on Sunday and Reeves scheduled a team meeting for 7:30 a.m. He played his team a tape of General Patton’s famous 1944 speech to the Third Army.

Did it work?

“Obviously, it did,” Todd said. “We felt confident with our game plan. We knew we had a chance. We knew a whole lot of people didn’t give us a chance, but we knew that we had a chance to win. We surprised a lot of people.”

The team ate breakfast and then boarded the bus to Lambeau Field at 9 a.m., three hours before kickoff.

“At that point, everybody is focused,” Todd said. “Everybody is kind of getting ready. There’s not a whole lot of joking going on.”

• Lambeau Field: The Falcons’ locker room was “a little cramped.”

“Normally, the visiting locker rooms are a little bit smaller than what you’re used to at home,” Todd said. “There wasn’t any heat on, either. It was a little cool in there.”

Todd got his ankles taped by the Falcons’ trainer and his sore back adjusted by the team’s chiropractor. Then he headed to the field to test out the turf.

Next, the team conducted its pre-game drills. After that, it’s waiting back in the locker room until the teams are introduced to the crowd.

“Everybody is starting to get a little intense now,” Todd said. “There are some people talking, some hollering going on. Guys are starting to get pumped up for the game. Just guys getting their game faces on, getting ready to play.

“I just like to go sit in my locker and visualize in my head plays that we’re running and different calls that I might have to make. I don’t like to do a lot of talking and hollering. A lot of times, I’ll look at my playbook if I have any last minute questions or just for some reassurance.”

Todd joined teammates for a prayer in the shower before Reeves’ pre-game talk. Then assistant strength and conditioning coach Rocky Colburn led the entire team in prayer.

• The win: The actual game itself is no different on the road than it is at home, Todd said. But winning on the road is extra special.

Atlanta’s win last Sunday wasn’t certain until the final minutes of the fourth quarter. The Packers were driving with a chance to either tie or take the lead. Then Atlanta cornerback Ashley Ambrose intercepted an ill-advised long pass attempt by Green Bay quarterback Brett Favre.

“A lot of things are going through your mind at that point,” Todd said of Green Bay’s final drive. “I was just hoping the defense would come up with a big play like they did. I was happy that he heaved the ball down there. I thought for sure that we at least were going to go into overtime, and overtime games haven’t been too kind to us this year.”

Amid the post-game revelry, Todd made time to meet with Packers running back Rondell Mealey. The two were teammates at Louisiana State and had their photo taken together.

After a post-game prayer at midfield, Todd made his way back to the locker room.

“I don’t know how to describe it, but it was an unbelievable feeling after a big win like that,” Todd said. “There’s a lot of celebrating going on. It was a great atmosphere.”

• Going home: That atmosphere carried on for the entire trip back to Atlanta. On the bus, on the plane, and on the bus yet again.

But it’s always good to get home, Todd said.

It’s good when your wife Heidi is waiting for you at the door.

It’s good when your infant son Maverick is still awake and you can put him to bed.

And a big win makes all that even better.

Not much time for worship when you’re worried about blocking 339-pound Gilbert Brown.

But Todd is a religious man, a devout Christian. So are several other Falcons. And they meet each week of the season — typically on Wednesday or Thursday night — and talk about the Bible.

“It helps,” Todd said. “Because on Sundays we don’t have a lot of time to go to church. Just to be able to get with other believers on the team and learn about the word is pretty important.”

Last week’s Bible study was at cornerback Ray Buchanan’s new home at Sugarloaf Country Club in Duluth. The mansion, larger than some churches, had even some of Buchanan’s wealthy teammates gawking.

“This place is unbelievable, man,” Todd said.

These weekly Bible studies are open to the players’ wives and girlfriends, as well. Todd always brings his wife Heidi and their infant son Maverick. Often, it seems there are as many children as adults at these gatherings.

“It allows us the chance to meet with other families on the team,” said Rebecca Feely, wife of place-kicker Jay Feely, “and build relationships on the level that is most important to us, which is based on our faith.”

The wives also meet for prayer at Todd and Heidi’s home in Sugar Hill each Monday, the same day players have a prayer group at the team’s complex in Flowery Branch.

“I tell you, I need my fill whenever I can get it,” said linebacker Keith Brooking, who — out of uniform, wearing glasses and leaning against Buchanan’s kitchen counter — looked more like a grad student than one of the most feared tacklers in the NFL.

“Especially this time of year, because things are moving really fast, it’s pretty easy to forget about the Lord and the things that he has done for you. So it’s a great time to slow everything down and really talk about him and what he’s meant to you and what he’s done for all of us.

“Because obviously he’s blessed us with a lot of talents and a lot of abilities. And we honor him and glorify him for giving us that.”

Nearly a dozen Falcons were on hand at Buchanan’s home on Thursday. The meetings always begin with a meal. This time punter Chris Mohr brought sushi and fullback Bob Christian supplied barbecue — and with this group, the food doesn’t last long.

The atmosphere is relaxed. It’s sweat pants and T-shirts, not suits and ties. And players do their best to check their profession at the front door.

“We’re just getting done with practice,” Todd said, “and no one really wants to talk about football.”

After dinner, the group moved down to Buchanan’s theater. Yes, theater.

It’s got purple walls and three rows of leather recliners. Outside the entrance are illuminated movie posters. Now showing: “Wyatt Earp.” Coming soon: “Maverick.”

Christian and his guitar took center stage for starters. He led the group in song.

“As you guys get the hang of it, please join in and sing — loud,” Christian said before he began. “I have no desire to do any solos here.”

Tight end Reggie Kelly, after some prodding from the crowd, added vocals on the second and final song.

“I am asking you Lord just to bring me through,” Kelly rapped, “all the hurt and the pain that I struggle through.”

Buchanan, seated in the second row, kept the beat on a hand drum. Linebacker Henri Crockett did the same with an egg shaker.

Thursday’s guest speaker, introduced by team chaplain Charles Collins, was Collins’ brother-in-law David Blackney, a pastor from western North Carolina.

Blackney, expanding on passages from the Bible, offered the group a Christian perspective on the pre- and post-Sept. 11 turmoil in the Middle East.

“We’re all looking similarly at the same place and the same geography,” Blackney said, “but we’re all reading off a different script.”

Blackney hoped aloud that God would allow the players’ generation “to rid the world of terrorism.” But to do that, Blackney said, human kind is going to have to “get it right.”

“Jesus is the only way,” Blackney said. “Now, listen guys. We’re not both right. These are mutually exclusive teachings, doctrines and goals. The Jews, the Muslims and Christians. And listen, we’re not all right. Somebody is wrong. At least two of those groups are wrong. One of them is right.”

Blackney closed with a call to action. He told the players to “seize these hours.”

“Your number-one purpose is not to entertain me on Sunday,” Blackney said. “Your purpose is to put on the Lord Jesus Christ and help everybody enlight of the truth that one day God is going to intervene and he’s going to set all wrongs right and he’s going to judge the Earth and everybody is going to be raised. And guess what, some are not prepared for that day.

“Use your influence for him with your neighbors, with your family, with your loved ones, with strangers. Winsomely, gently, with no disrespect, share Christ with them, unapologetically. The day is coming. Mockers can mock, guys, but the day is coming. So we need to get with it. Amen?”

“Amen,” the group responded.

Falcons players have had some kind of prayer group for nearly two decades. For 17 years, Collins — through his affiliation with Athletes in Action, which looks to promote Christ through the influence of sports — has kept up the tradition started in the early 1980s by former quarterback Steve Bartkowski.

Although NFL rosters are constantly in flux, Collins said there has always been a core group of pious Christians on the Falcons.

Christian and Buchanan have been attending the Bible studies since they joined the team in 1997. They’ve seen a lot of faces come and go since then. But, they said, regardless of its ever-changing makeup, the prayer group remains rigid.

“Whenever you get Christians together, of course it’s going to be a tight-knit group,” Buchanan said. “We really have a close-knit team and everybody respects everyone’s religion. So we don’t go out hard-core trying to recruit everybody. We let the Lord work through us and if they actually want to convert, it’s really simple.”

Added Christian, “We’ve got to stand together in the locker room. It’s not so bad, but it can be. There are mockers. It just kind of helps when we have a chance for fellowship together with other believers. It helps you to not waver in your stand for Jesus.”

How tough? Well, Todd made that comment back on Wednesday, when there was still plenty of week left to go.

After their latest loss — a 24-10 pelting by the New England Patriots last Sunday — the Falcons, now 3-4, thought the most embarrassing part of their week was behind them.

They allowed nine sacks and converted just 3 of 14 third-down chances. Things couldn’t possibly get much worse. Right?

Well, they did.

Seems the mood in the players’ “friends and family” section at the Georgia Dome was not so, um, friendly during the game. There was, apparently, applause coming from a few of those lower-level seats when quarterback Chris Chandler left the game in the third quarter with a rib injury.

Chandler’s wife Diane — as bold as her father, former 49ers quarterback John Brodie — confronted the hecklers. They taunted her. One of them, reportedly, threw a can at her.

“It’s people’s sons and husbands and fathers out there on the field,” Todd said. “And the people beside them don’t realize that they’re sitting next to people who care about the people that are out on the field. It makes for a tough situation.”

The mess immediately became known as the Falcons Family Feud. It dominated headlines all week. And players tired of the soap opera quickly.

In the locker room on Monday, receiver Shawn Jefferson issued the following threat: “Any reporter who calls my wife, I will (mess) you up. Two times!”

Lost in the drama was the Falcons’ loss. It was their third home loss in a row.

On Wednesday, Falcons coach Dan Reeves instructed his players to only answer questions pertaining to today’s game against the Dallas Cowboys. He also told them to be more selective when they dole out tickets to the game.

“It’s been pretty tough,” Todd said. “Being around the locker room, I think there is a sense of urgency. We need a win. I think a win will help solve a lot of problems.”

And problems have a way of piling up. In an attempt to come to Chandler’s defense, cornerback Ray Buchanan said, “You don’t go off on Chris. Go off on the linemen. Those dudes ain’t blocking.”

Linemen read the newspaper too, you know.

“At first when I read it, I couldn’t believe it,” Todd said. “Because maybe it is true, but players don’t need to criticize their own teammates.

“Ray came in to the offensive line room and apologized to us (on Wednesday). He said it was taken a little bit out of context. I don’t think Ray meant it in the way it came out, or maybe he did, but I really don’t think he did.”

Todd and Buchanan are in agreement on one thing. The Falcons’ offensive line play against the Patriots was “terrible.”

“We didn’t go out and execute what our game plan was,” Todd said. “They started blitzing us and they didn’t stop. Giving up nine sacks? Now, all of them weren’t on the offensive line — we had other parts breaking down — but to give up that many sacks is just horrible, and you can’t do it and be successful in the NFL.

“But we’re going to continue to get better each week. It was just a minor setback. I think the guys are really focused this week and ready to come out and get a win.”

Ah yes, a win. That elixir. That cure-all.

Do you think if the Falcons were 5-2 — which they easily could be if not for two overtime collapses against the 49ers — that players’ families would be quarreling in the stands? Do you think if the Falcons were among the leaders in the NFC West that players would be pointing fingers in the locker room?

“Once a team starts losing, then all the little things are pointed out,” Todd said. “All the frustrations are brought out. Everything is just magnified. All the bad things are magnified. And then they’re written about and they’re talked about. That’s all you hear. But when you’re winning, all the people want to write about is how good you’re doing.”

Visiting the Georgia Dome today is Dallas, perhaps the only team in more turmoil than the Falcons. Ryan Leaf, king of second chances, will start at quarterback for the Cowboys (2-5). He’s Dallas’ fourth starter this season. That’s never happened in Cowboys history.

A win, and the Falcons are 4-4 and somehow back in the playoff picture. A loss, and the Falcons fall apart.

“We’re at the point in our season where we can turn it around or the wheels could come off,” Todd said. “This is a critical game for us — because of the morale in the locker room, the finger pointing, the media writing about how bad we are, and all the other stuff. This is a critical game for us. We really need a win.”

Full House

Nearly every seat will be occupied today for the Falcons-Cowboys game at the Georgia Dome — and that doesn’t happen very often. But there will likely be just as many Cowboys fans as Falcons fans.

“They’re America’s team I guess, huh?” said Atlanta Falcons starting center Todd McClure. “Every player would like to play in front of a packed house every day at home. I guess when you’re not winning every game, it’s hard. People don’t want to come see you. It’s one thing to an extent we really can’t control. But if we do start winning, I’m sure the seats will start filling up. I guess we do control it to an extent, also.”

“I watched football,” Atlanta Falcons starting center Todd McClure said. “I just laid on the couch and watched football.”

Todd was back in Baton Rouge, La., last weekend. He flew home after practice on Thursday.

“It’s a lot of visiting relatives and eating,” Todd said. “That’s what it always boils down to.”

Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles galore. They were all there, awaiting Todd and Heidi McClure’s visit during the Falcons’ off week.

Thursday night, Todd and Heidi fried fish with Todd’s grandparents. The next night, they enjoyed a roasted pig — “cochon de lait” in Cajun country — with the whole clan. The weekend continued with a barbecue at Heidi’s parents’ house.

Three days off in mid-season feels like three months for players accustomed to bruising six-day work weeks.

Free time?

“There’s not a whole lot of it during the season,” Todd said.

Especially when you have a 4-month old son at home.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been to a movie,” Todd said. “We used to do whatever we wanted to. Now we’ve got to think about the kid before we do anything.

“Whenever I have off time, it’s the chance to get stuff done that I don’t have time to do during the week. So it’s running errands, doing work around the house, taking care of the son, you know?”

Todd and Heidi, middle school sweethearts, were married before Todd’s rookie season in 1999. He never lived the life of a single professional athlete — and he has no regrets.

“Whenever we have off days, I guess some of the single guys will go out downtown and do whatever,” said Todd, 24. “I guess being married has a lot more plusses to it. You’re not out doing all that. You’re at home resting when you need to. And when married guys come home from work, a lot of times your wife will have a meal cooked.

“You should ask Ephraim about what it’s like being single.”

Media darling Ephraim Salaam, Atlanta’s starting right tackle, was, as usual, shuffling a deck of UNO cards in front of his locker at noon on Wednesday.

“So Ephraim,” I asked, “is it as easy as I would assume for pro athletes to meet women? Are there groupies?

“It’s easy to get dates. Hell, even Kadela can get dates,” Salaam said, raising his voice for the sake of rookie tackle Dave Kadela, seated nearby.

“Easy, brother,” Kadela mumbled in response. “Easy.”

“It’s quality dates, though,” Salaam continued. “That’s the thing.”

Unlike Todd, Salaam has no baby at home to tend to. But he still avoids the club scene. Instead, he goes to an average of three movies every week.

“Mainly I go to the movies by myself, because I can’t stand people talking to me during the movie,” said Salaam, 25, who owns a movie production company — 4XL Entertainment — with New Orleans Saints tackle and former San Diego State teammate Kyle Turley. “I’m a real movie-goer. That’s my release from dealing with the stress of this so-called job.”

Todd’s releases are golf and fishing, but he rarely has time to do either during the season. So he’ll often settle for a Monday-night cigar.

“I like to do that to unwind,” Todd said.

The Tuesday of the bye week, Todd actually managed to sneak in a round of golf. He went with one of his Sugar Hill neighbors, a Falcons season ticket holder who owns a hardwood floor company.

“So, you hang out with your neighbors,” I said. “Are you treated just like any other guy on the block?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Todd said with a snicker. “Every time I pass them down the street, they want to talk about football.”