A lot of big boys were football fakes during the era when Dennis Byrd started playing the sport in the 1950s and '60s.
Not Byrd.
He genuinely loved it. He loved the dirt, the sweat, the swollen elbows, the August swelter and the bite of a raw, rainy Saturday in late November.
It was a time when any healthy junior high or high school male of above-average size was under heavy peer pressure to play the sport that was rapidly overtaking baseball in popularity. Many big guys wound up playing because putting up with the contact was less trouble than absorbing the criticism of not playing.
In the early 1960s, Byrd was about the biggest thing on or off a football field in the small textile town of Lincolnton.
At 6 feet 5 and about 275 pounds, Byrd was a giant by comparison to players at all levels of competition by the time he enrolled at N.C. State.
"You just never saw anyone that size back then," said Jim Donnan, the quarterback from Burlington who starred alongside Byrd on those Wolfpack teams.
"Most of the big guys back then were slow and not really that big in the first place. If you were 6-2, 210 or 215, you were pretty big.
"Dennis was huge, but he could move and he loved the sport as much anyone you'll ever find. He would play every down if you'd let him. There wasn't another big man like him in the ACC until Randy White came along at Maryland in the '70s."
When Byrd died of heart trouble in Charlotte on Friday, the state and N.C. State lost a football treasure. He played, coached and lived the sport for the overwhelming majority of his 63 years.
Were Byrd just emerging as a high school or college lineman these days, he soon would be a rich man.
But after a brief pro career that was shortened by knee problems and a coaching career at the high school level, he happily settled for football fun.
Many Wolfpack fans walked past Byrd during these past few seasons without recognizing the man whose retired No. 77 jersey is honored in Carter-Finley Stadium.
During almost all State home games, Byrd could be seen standing behind the last aisle in the lower deck. The seats are a tight fit for such a big fellow and especially one dealing with sore knees.
Win or lose, he was as faithful to the Pack as a fan as he was as a player.
"There weren't many guys like him then or now," Donnan said. "People used to talk about someone being the 'strong, silent type.' That's always been the perfect way to describe Dennis."