Larry Johnson spoke his mind. He let out with what he was really thinking. Everything came from the heart.

Should have given me the ball, he said. We were too cute. We should have pounded, pounded, pounded.

The words wouldn't stop coming out of his mouth.

I doubt myself, he said. If I'm the key guy bringing home all the hardware then why am I not the go-to guy on my own team?

Johnson said these things over and over as waves of reporters came to fill their notepads.

He spoke with anger and frustration and disgust and finally, I had found something that was real.

You have to go looking for that as a reporter, while you're wading through press releases and media guides, big fake smiles and old cliches. You're looking for one good quote that means something.

Like these words that came from Miami defensive tackle Matt Walters after his team lost the national championship in overtime: "Best football game I've ever seen. I was glad to be a part of it."

There it is. That's real.

Cheesy? A little. True? Certainly.

We had no reason to expect anything real out of Johnson after Penn State's 13-9 loss to Auburn.

Until then, Johnson hadn't gotten over the last time he chose to speak his mind, in 2000 after the Nittany Lions lost to Toledo.

Before he made his Heisman run, Johnson was short with reporters. He mumbled and was often incoherent. But he figured out, likely with the help of Penn State's PR machine, that he'd have to be nice if he wanted Heisman votes.

So he faked it for a while. Acted jolly for the cameras.

Back in 2000, he was calling Joe Paterno's play-calling old-fashioned and predictable. A lot of newspapers ripped him for it, and the big shots within the program looked down on him.

But after Johnson made those comments, he got several calls from former players thanking him for saying what had needed to be said for a long time.

So why did Larry decide to tell the media -- with every chance he got -- that the media made more of those words than they should have? Whenever someone asks about those comments, that's his response. He never sticks by what he said, never says he was frustrated and shouldn't have spoken so loudly, but that he did and he meant it.

Instead, it's always "the media blows everything out of proportion."

Proportion?

Larry, you're about to make millions of dollars to play a game. This world hasn't been in any sort of proportion in a long, long time.

Johnson was roundly ripped for his comments in Orlando.

Philadelphia Inquirer writer Ray Parrillo wrote that Johnson had "decided to end [his career] by burnishing his image as an angry, sullen young man who holds just about everyone accountable for hard times but himself."

So that's one way to look at it.

But Mark Bowden, a general news columnist for the Inquirer and the author of Blackhawk Down, wrote a column several days later praising Johnson for having the courage to say the thing he said. He encouraged LJ to continue doing so throughout his career.

So I was torn.

Was LJ really just a bitter and angry man? Or was his brutal honesty refreshing?

The internal debate ended yesterday, when I found this.

On one of those internet chats run by ESPN, a person under the name of Joe (PA) asked Johnson, who is in Mobile, Ala., preparing for the Senior Bowl (2 p.m. Saturday), a simple question.

The (PA) in that name stands for Pennsylvania, but doesn't lessen the irony one bit.

Joe (PA) asked: Please comment on your post game quotes after the bowl game loss.

Larry Johnson replied: I think they were taken out of context.

Right then, it was over. All respect was lost for Larry Johnson. It was clear that he did not, and probably never would, have the courage to take responsibility for his own actions and words.

He went on to say that people don't always understand him. But I feel like I understand him all too well.

The fact is, Larry Johnson did not have to be in that interview room. He had started his rant in the post-game press conference. Nobody forced the graduating senior to go into the separate locker room and continue it.

But there Larry sat, hands behind his head, twisting slowly in his chair, waiting and ready.

And he stayed longer than any other player.

He knew full well what he was saying and how those things would appear the next day in the papers. Johnson may be all fire and frustration and anger and raw emotion, but his comments on Jan. 1 were direct and thought out.

And yet, Larry Johnson would not stand behind them.

He blamed somebody else for the problem.

Nothing about him is, or ever will be, anything close to real.

Back when the Heisman chase was heating up, I got a call from a major national television sports show asking if I thought Larry Johnson would make a good guest.

This was right after a five-week period during which Johnson skipped most of his scheduled teleconferences. Even when he did call in, it seemed he had no interest in talking to anyone.

So I told the guy from the show that Johnson didn't have much to say and wasn't very exciting.

Wouldn't make for good TV, then, the guy said.

After LJ loosened up down the stretch, I began to regret that decision.

But not anymore.

You can't believe a single word Larry Johnson says.

Especially since he isn't strong enough to believe it himself.