The bodyguard threw up his hands in disbelief.
What the hell am I supposed to do here?
Two men nearby — both well over 6 feet and 300 pounds, both drunk — stood eye-to-eye, screaming at each other, on the verge of punches. Nobody was going to get between these mountainous metal heads — not even the bodyguard they had hired.
“Nobody would be able to stop them,” said Justin Chapman, who was there. “They just had to go at it.”
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Even Aaron Lewis — lead singer of the hard rock band Staind — looked on, confused about what was happening.
Get a few beers in Marc Colombo and blast some heavy metal, and … this happens. Cory Procter was often on the other end of his rage. This time, it was backstage after a Staind concert in Fort Worth, Texas, not far from Cowboys Stadium.
“Marc and I were having a good time,” Procter said. "So we start talking s--- to each other, getting at each other’s throats. Then we start leveling up. Getting louder and louder, to where it looks like we’re face to face, about to throw down. Everybody is watching us. Aaron Lewis is like: ‘What the hell is happening? These two monsters are about to throw down!’”
It never came to blows. They hugged it out and, later that night, drunkenly walked through the streets, playfully singing rap songs to each other, arms around shoulders.
Colombo now spends his days yelling at offensive lineman as a Giants assistant, trying to get an underperforming group to play better than it did in Week 1 against the Steelers. But this was his life in Free Reign, a heavy metal band he fronted from 2009-11, when he was a Cowboys offensive tackle. Procter and Leonard Davis, fellow Cowboys linemen, were in it, too.
It was a strange sight to see, these three giants — plus Chapman, a local guitarist — performing on stage. But this was no novelty act. They signed with a label, produced an album, played in front of sold-out crowds, won an award and filmed a music video.
“I’m a heavy metal guy,” Colombo said last month. “That’s the music I love.”
Colombo was living out his dream. It ended when life (and football) got in the way.
Now Colombo finds himself in East Rutherford, driving to work every day to coach the Giants' offensive line. He wears a team-issued T-shirt that covers most of the tattoos on his arm.
Those wild days behind him, this isn’t the life he envisioned.
***
Colombo used to stay out past midnight, losing his voice from screaming as fans at concerts across Texas with Procter and Davis. In the offseason, they’d tour with Free Reign. Now, most of his nights end at home with his wife and two kids, or watching Giants practice film.
That energy, though — the metal head in him — bubbles beneath the surface. It bursts out every now and then, like when he casually dropped an F-bomb during a recent press conference. As a Cowboys assistant, he used to blast metal music in the locker room before games, and then go around yelling at his linemen to energize them.
“To me, it still looks like he’s getting ready to play every week,” Cowboys offensive lineman Zack Martin told The Dallas Morning News last year, Colombo’s final season in Dallas.
Now, Colombo is maybe the Giants' most important assistant. He must teach Nick Gates how to play center, develop rookie right tackle Matt Peart, get guard Will Hernandez back on track and turn rookie Andrew Thomas into a left tackle worthy of protecting Daniel Jones' blind side.
The group didn’t past their first test on Monday night, allowing 22 quarterback pressures in the 26-16 loss to Pittsburgh. Running back Saquon Barkley had nowhere to go, and finished with just six yards on 15 carries. It was an unmitigated disaster.
But there’s plenty of time to bounce back.
Procter believes Colombo is the right person to get the Giants' offensive line on the right track. He knows exactly the impact Colombo’s coaching (and personal) intensity will have on this young, rebuilding line.
"If you don’t bring a lot of juice to the table, there’s not going to be a lot of juice leaving the table,” Procter said. "He brings a lot of fight. Then what happens? You start punching guys in the mouth.”
***
Colombo, Procter and Davis lumbered onstage toward Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine — Colombo’s childhood idol. Then Colombo, still starry-eyed, heard the boos.
“We came out to the biggest chorus of boos you ever heard in your life,” Procter said.
Free Reign was named “Most Metal Athletes” at Revolver Magazine’s Golden God awards in 2010, beating out Mike Piazza and wrestler Chris Jericho, among others. Colombo and his buddies walked up to accept the award, with Ozzy Osbourne and Alice Cooper watching from the crowd.
But when they were announced as Cowboys players, the crowd booed. Davis started his acceptance speech by thanking God and his wife. Colombo did the same. Procter — who had “plenty to drink” — went on stage as the boos got louder.
"If you don’t like the Cowboys, f--- you!” he told the crowd.
Colombo jumped back in front of the microphone.
“Yeah, f--- you!” he shouted, as the boos grew louder and the players cracked up.
Free Reign was able to live the dreams of every ’90s metalhead. They met Mustaine. Pantera’s Vinnie Paul once flew from California to Las Vegas just to hang out and watch them perform. Things happened quickly — a swift transition from recording in Colombo’s spare bedroom to recording contract.
Colombo and Procter joined the Cowboys in 2005. Colombo had played guitar in a band with Bears teammates, so one day, Procter came over to his house and played Colombo’s drum set. They worked through some songs Colombo had written. Once they heard Davis played bass, they moved to the garage, and jammed after Cowboys practices — a modest start.
"We’d play some music, have a couple beers,” Procter said. “We got some recordings of this stuff where it sounds like we’re recording into a trash can.”
Once Procter had an expensive drum set shipped to the Cowboys’ facility, they started taking things more seriously. Head coach Wade Phillips noticed. He asked if they’d play at a team family night, even though it was not “music for families,” Procter said, with a laugh.
Phillips wanted it anyway.
“It got a great reaction," Phillips said. "To see those huge guys playing, the guitars and stuff looked awfully small.”
Jason Garrett, now the Giants' offensive coordinator, was there, too.
“It’s maybe a little harsh for me,” he said this summer. “Heavy metal times 10. But [Colombo] certainly played with passion, there’s no question about that.”
Their teammates were impressed, if not a little confused.
“I don’t know what the hell they were doing,” said defensive end Marcus Spears, laughing.
Their first real show was at House of Blues in Dallas — for a Michael Irvin charity event, with a sold-out crowd that included Tony Romo and Jason Witten. Chapman — Free Reign’s only non-Cowboys member — joined the band soon thereafter.
And that’s when things accelerated. Procter called Chapman the “mastermind” of the group and a “mad scientist of music.” Chapman pushed the players to become more polished musicians, instead of just athletes playing music.
Free Reign signed a record deal with Riot Entertainment in 2009 and released its first album two years later — “Heavier Than Metal.” Touring the album proved difficult, because football came first. Free Reign mostly played sporadic, opening-act shows in Texas and Las Vegas.
One of the most memorable shows came after a minor league hockey game in San Antonio, outside the arena. It exceeded Chapman’s low expectations.
"That sounds stupid,” Chapman recalled thinking. “But after the hockey game, it was almost like everybody that was in there watching came outside to the stage to watch us play. It blew my mind.”
During the NFL season, Chapman kept the band afloat. He created instrumentals and sent them to Colombo, who wrote much of the lyrics. Throughout the season, Colombo typed notes on his iPhone whenever he felt inspired. In June, before training camp, they’d go into studio and record the songs — with Chapman mixing and mastering them later.
In 2011, they cobbled together their only music video, for their most popular song, “One Step Away.” But the video looks legit. They shot it in front of a haunted house — called Thrillvania — in rural Texas. They hired college kids to film it, with a camera rolling on a 2-by-4. There were even pyrotechnics and volunteer actors. It was a peak moment for the group, which disbanded that year.
“There was lots of ups and downs, but at the very end, I feel like we got there,” Chapman said.
***
Procter was cut by the Cowboys in 2010, Colombo and Davis in 2011. The band broke up as they went to other teams. Life moved on.
Colombo didn’t think he’d become a coach. When the Dolphins cut him after 2011, ending his career, he went to Procter’s house. He was scared about what came next, the unknown.
“What the hell am I going to do?” he asked Procter.
Procter always knew Colombo could coach. Yes, he was so intense as a player that his teammates often wanted to fight him, Procter said. But they loved his work ethic and attention to detail.
“He wanted to be the best offensive tackle he could possibly be, — and that’s the trait you have to have to go into coaching," Spears said. “To be able to identify your own faults, to identify the players' faults. Then, guys are willing to listen when you had a career, especially for as long as he did. I think he’ll do a phenomenal job."
Starting in 2016, Colombo spent two-plus seasons the Cowboys' assistant offensive line coach, then was promoted to the head job. He followed Garrett to East Rutherford this offseason.
Colombo is already making an impression with the Giants. He’s loud at practice, and often gets physical with his players, grabbing them during drills, to show them proper technique.
“It’s awesome having somebody who’s actually been there, done that,” Hernandez said. “He’s one of us. He just gets it."
Last week, the Giants played “One Step Away” during practice. Colombo smiled.
That was a lifetime ago and Colombo, who declined NJ Advance Media’s request for a one-on-one interview, would rather talk about his current job. He only smiled on a recent video conference call with reporters when asked about his heavy metal days, and quickly pivoted to football.
“You have to make sure they’re doing it exactly the way you want it,” Colombo said of his intense coaching style.
Even if this isn’t the life Colombo always wanted.
The way Chapman sees it, Colombo was actually a step away from a much different life, like he sang at the start of the chorus of Free Reign’s most popular song: One step away, from having it all ...
“That song represents our lives a little bit,” Chapman said. "You’re one step away from having it all. That’s how we were. We were one step away from some pretty great things.”
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