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(Author’s note: To avoid confusion in reading this column, please bear in mind that Chargers’ receiver Malcom Floyd has an older brother named Malcolm Floyd, who also played in the National Football League.)

Malcom Floyd has his eyes on an Audi, and did before the NFL lockout.

The Chargers wide receiver wants an SUV for his growing family, but he’s been putting off major purchases despite a seven-digit salary. At first, Floyd wanted to conserve his cash as a strategy for weathering a long work stoppage. Now, he’s back at work and too busy to browse.

For a guy who normally covers ground in long, swift strides, Malcom Floyd is dragging his feet.


“That’s how we were raised,” his older brother Malcolm explains. “You have to prepare for the future. When I went into the league, I wanted to get a Cadillac, And my father took me to the Honda dealership. I was the only one in training camp with a Honda Civic.”

Malcolm Floyd — he of the extra “l” — spent four seasons in the National Football League and scored two career touchdowns for the Houston Oilers. Following the first of them, a 1995 catch on a cold November day in Cleveland, Floyd spun the ball in the end zone and held up his hands as if seeking warmth from a campfire.

Malcolm was the more demonstrative of the football Floyds. Malcom, by comparison, is muted.

“I used to (be more boisterous),” Malcom Floyd said. “In elementary school, I would high-step. I’d get down on one knee, like I was looking in the mirror. But then it just went (away) in middle school or high school. I wanted to take a different path than my brother.”


Whether it’s a matter of dollars or decorum, Malcom Floyd is careful to avoid actions he might later regret. He’s a big-play receiver with a long-range outlook, a guy who plays football’s most flamboyant position with the understated confidence of a solitary craftsman. He is so predictably self-effacing that it has made for a running joke around Chargers Park.

“He comes out here and he makes a spectacular catch about every other day and everyone says, ‘Great catch, Malcom,’ ” Chargers coach Norv Turner said. “And he says, ‘I got lucky.’ He always says, ‘I just got lucky.’ Finally, one day, (Antonio) Gates said, ‘Malcom, you get lucky every day.’ ”

The older brother is laughing as this story is repeated. Getting lucky, he says, is his line, a trademark his younger brother was not too proud to appropriate. The difference is that Malcolm Floyd probably needed a certain amount of serendipity to survive in the NFL, where Malcom Floyd had the good fortune to sprout as a physical specimen.

“The catches that he makes, I could never do those things,” the older brother said. “I guess I was more emotion and he’s really low-key. My mom always preached to calm down, but I’m a small package compared to my other brothers.”


Separated by nine years and, now, by five inches in height, Malcolm and Malcom Floyd have an unusual bond. The older brother was allowed to name his sibling to discourage rivalries, and named him after himself. The spelling variation is their father’s doing. The personality and athletic differences evolved over time.

“I would have to take him everywhere I went,” Malcolm Floyd said. “I had to change his diapers. If we were playing basketball, he’d just hold us down. We had to make up for his lack of ability.

“By the time I got into the NFL, (he) was barely reaching high school. I came back for a couple days and we were playing basketball and he was dunking on me. I guess things had changed.”

Despite his comparatively diminutive stature, the 6-foot Malcolm Floyd was the Oilers’ third-round draft choice in 1994. He caught 26 career passes for the Oilers, Tennessee Titans and St. Louis Rams, professional experience that helped qualify him for his current job: head football coach at Sacramento’s C.K. McClatchy High School, his alma mater.


Command has made Malcolm Floyd self-conscious about the “stupid celebrations” of his former self, and mindful of his own hypocrisy when he tells players to “try to be a little more professional.” Yet his example was not lost on his younger brother, if only as a path to avoid.

“I might start yelling (after a reception), but I just didn’t want to be looked at as That Guy; like flamboyant,” Malcom Floyd said. “That’s not me. You can pick and choose what you want to incorporate in your character, and that’s just something I didn’t want.”

His behavior model was Hall of Fame quarterback Steve Young, whose talents were conspicuous but whose swagger was imperceptible. Both men were born lucky, and grew up gracefully.

“If it happened all the time, then I wouldn’t be lucky,” Malcom Floyd said. “It would be great skill. But it doesn’t always happen, like in blackjack, and stuff like that is hard: one-handed catches, diving catches. I don’t make those catches all the time.”


Some of this is humility speaking. Some of it, though, may be sandbagging.

“I think I’m confident in myself,” Floyd said. “I’m above average. I know what I can bring to the table.”

He was sufficiently confident to hold out last season before signing a one-year tender worth $3,168,000. Though injuries limited him to 11 games and 37 receptions in 2010, Floyd’s 19.4-yard average ranked fourth-best in the NFL.

Following some free-agent flirtations, notably with the Baltimore Ravens, Floyd returned to the Chargers this month with a two-year contract reportedly worth $5 million. Though that represents a slightly reduced salary on an annual basis, Floyd should have no trouble making the payments on an Audi Q7. (The 2012 model Audi Escondido has in stock carries a sticker price of $61,475.)


“We talked about it a couple of months ago,” Malcolm Floyd said. “He wanted to get it used and I said, ‘Come on, man. Get a brand-new SUV if you want.’ ”

Lucky guy.