FAIRFAX, Va. | It's clear right away -- long before the woman sitting up front asks, "Did you shoot anyone?" -- that this guy with the straight-out-of-central-casting Brooklyn accent and gold chain is not your typical college lecturer.

It's clear from Michael Franzese's life story -- the 17 years in the mafia, the millions upon millions of ill-gotten gains, the "Yuppie Don" nickname, the prison term -- that he is a breed apart from the professors usually addressing this crowd.

And it's clear, from the wide eyes and dropped jaws in a George Mason University auditorium on a recent evening, that these kids in their gray hooded sweat shirts are listening intently, drawn in by Franzese's message and mien.

They're hearing Franzese deliver the same, simple points he makes to college athletes and coaches, to NBA rookies and Major League Baseball players and umpires, to professional tennis players and NFL veterans.

Know the dangers of gambling, because, he says, "If you don't have a gambling problem, you know somebody that does. Guaranteed."

Be careful not to get mixed in with the wrong crowd.

Don't wind up being forced into the sorts of situations he put athletes in, where they felt compelled to affect the outcome of a game.

In sum: Do as I say, not as I did.

"You make that mistake one time, you're through," Franzese says, chopping the air with his hand. "You've got that anchor around your neck the rest of your life."

He travels the country, spreading his gospel and hoping to affect a life here or there along the way.

"Kids need to hear the message he's sending. It's a powerful message," said Tom O'Connor, George Mason's athletic director and chairman of the Division I men's basketball committee. "The message is about far more than just gambling. He was talking about responsibility, about making the right decisions."

Franzese is not only aiming to do good, of course. He's also running a business.

And right now business is booming, thanks to former Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick's dogfighting saga, and former NBA referee Tim Donaghy's betting on games he officiated, and mounting questions about match-fixing in tennis.

Appearance requests have been increasing, and Franzese's third book is due out next year.

The son of a mobster, Franzese (fran-ZEECE) set out to find a different path. He would study premed at Hofstra, become a doctor, do some good.

Instead, he was persuaded to join one of New York's organized crime families, then began rising through the ranks and making money. Lots of it.

Eventually, though, able to see the direction in which his life was headed, and inspired to make a drastic change after meeting the woman who would become his wife, Franzese pleaded guilty to racketeering and went to prison in the mid-1980s. It was all part of a whiplash-inducing about-face, as he walked away from the mafia and embraced religion.

"I am a person of faith, not a fanatic. But I am a strong believer, and I don't believe I can make up for what I've done in the past," Franzese said in an interview with The Associated Press after his talk at George Mason. "What I've done, I've done. I have issues with what I've done in the past, and I have regrets."

His response an hour earlier to that query about whether he shot someone?

"That's always the No. 2 question," he began, eliciting chuckles from the students.

"Have I seen it? Have I been around it? Have I been exposed it? Yes," he continued, then paused for effect. "And I'll let you fill in the blanks from there."

Is it really such a good idea to put the man who speaks these words in a room filled with impressionable college kids?

"I was surprised they would have a guy like that come speak to us," said Folarin Campbell, a guard on George Mason's basketball team. "But what he said makes you think twice about even thinking about gambling."

Why has Major League Baseball hired Franzese to do tours during spring training?

Why did the men's professional tennis tour have him meet with hundreds of players at a tournament this spring?

Why was he invited to speak to the San Diego Chargers and Miami Dolphins?

"You have to know your enemy," said Kevin Hallinan, who recently retired as security chief for Major League Baseball.

It was Hallinan who helped point Franzese toward a second career in the 1990s. A former policeman who helped run the FBI/NYPD joint terrorism task force before working for baseball, Hallinan and counterparts at the NFL, NBA and NHL wanted to put together a video for pro athletes to warn them about gambling and the like.

So Hallinan asked FBI colleagues to recommend a criminal, and Franzese's was one of a handful of names that came up. Franzese starred in the video, "Gambling With Your Life," and later was asked by Hallinan to speak in person to baseball clubs.

"This is a clear and present danger, certainly to professional sports and the colleges as well, and ... it's important, I believe, to get someone to explain what these people do, what their method of operation is," Hallinan said.

He also knew that it was important to grab the audience and not let go, something at which Franzese excels.

"If you know the attention span of professional athletes, I had to really wow them," Hallinan said. "This is the MTV generation, and a talking head was not going to make it happen."

With an easy patter and tales to tell, Franzese makes a lasting impression.

"He demands respect," said Washington Wizards guard Nick Young, who saw Franzese at the University of Southern California and the NBA's rookie transition program. "He tells you how the mob gets you."

Franzese takes his listeners through a scenario of how gambling can lead to owing money, which can lead to owing favors, which can lead to serious consequences.

While the length, content and fees for Franzese's appearances vary, depending on whether he is speaking at a church or a corporate event, to a college team or a pro team, the authenticity always seems to ring true.

"You see that stuff on TV and in the movies. You're not used to seeing it in real life," Dolphins defensive end Jayson Taylor said. "Even as a veteran guy, the more knowledge I can get my hands on, I'm willing and wanting to get it."

Plus, it's much easier to make people believe in the possibility of change if they're listening to someone who did.

That's one of the reasons Grant Teaff, executive director of the American Football Coaches Association, brings Franzese to his group's conventions.

"It's a real dose of medicine he dispenses," Teaff said. "We all have an opportunity to change and to have a positive impact on other people's lives, and he's been able to do that."