Brian Manzella
Administrator
"I'll take Brian."
I never heard that come out of the mouth's of many betters when I was in a big money game. Maybe in the first round of the "draft" at Norman playground, but not on the golf course.
Of all the folks who saw something in my golf game, my Dad, Todd Nunez, Don Villavaso, Tom Bartlett, Walter Pryor, nobody else put their money where their mouth is more than "City Champ."
He "put on the party" at Pontchartrain Golf Course during the mid-90's. Sitting in the clubhouse, making games and betting on games already made, he was commanding presence. I never ever heard one guy trash talk this guy. And "trash talking" was a requirement at Pontchartrain.
Jim Mora, who coached in the NFL for 15 years, said that if he had to pick one guy to have with him in a alley with some bad dudes coming at him, this would be his first pick.
Mine too.
#57 in your program, Ricky Jackson was a great football player for, basically, his whole life. As a New Orleans Saint, he was part of the best group of linebackers in NFL history. No contest.
But he could be overlooked.
At the University of Pittsburgh, Ricky played opposite of Hugh Green, a Heisman Trophy candidate, somewhat because "City Champ" was commanding double-teams on the other side.
For the Saints he was somewhat overshadowed by Pat Swilling, a very one-dimensional pass rusher who won an NFL Defensive MVP once because they couldn't double team him either.
Eventually Ricky got his Super Bowl ring as a member of the San Fransisco 49ers, where he had transformed himself into a defensive end.
And trust me, if the Saints don't have the year they had last year, he was going to get overlooked again.
I never forget the folks who made me feel like I was somebody.
Ricky did that back in the day, and I beat lots of folks that were probably better than me because of it.
Until this one day...
City Champ sent a little cornbread-faced little dude at me, who was about 5 foot nothing, and a 100 & nothin. We shook hands on the first tee at Pontchartrain, a 400 yard dogleg left par-4.
I hit first, and ripped a hard cut over Congress Drive, over some pin-oaks, to about 280, center cut.
He comes this little guy, and for Christ's sake, he is waggling CROSS-HANDED! Before I could shake my head twice, he swung cross-handed, jumping in the air through the ball, and hit it at least 40 by me. He nearly holed his pitch for a two, which was far from the only almost-holed pitch of his 66.
Somehow, after getting run off of the course on the front 9, I managed a 33 or 34 on the back and only lost my shirt.
I told Ricky, "I don't ever want to see Albert Crews again."
He laughed.
Congratulations, City Champ!
You deserve it.
#57 HOF 2010
I never heard that come out of the mouth's of many betters when I was in a big money game. Maybe in the first round of the "draft" at Norman playground, but not on the golf course.
Of all the folks who saw something in my golf game, my Dad, Todd Nunez, Don Villavaso, Tom Bartlett, Walter Pryor, nobody else put their money where their mouth is more than "City Champ."
He "put on the party" at Pontchartrain Golf Course during the mid-90's. Sitting in the clubhouse, making games and betting on games already made, he was commanding presence. I never ever heard one guy trash talk this guy. And "trash talking" was a requirement at Pontchartrain.
Jim Mora, who coached in the NFL for 15 years, said that if he had to pick one guy to have with him in a alley with some bad dudes coming at him, this would be his first pick.
Mine too.
#57 in your program, Ricky Jackson was a great football player for, basically, his whole life. As a New Orleans Saint, he was part of the best group of linebackers in NFL history. No contest.
But he could be overlooked.
At the University of Pittsburgh, Ricky played opposite of Hugh Green, a Heisman Trophy candidate, somewhat because "City Champ" was commanding double-teams on the other side.
For the Saints he was somewhat overshadowed by Pat Swilling, a very one-dimensional pass rusher who won an NFL Defensive MVP once because they couldn't double team him either.
Eventually Ricky got his Super Bowl ring as a member of the San Fransisco 49ers, where he had transformed himself into a defensive end.
And trust me, if the Saints don't have the year they had last year, he was going to get overlooked again.
I never forget the folks who made me feel like I was somebody.
Ricky did that back in the day, and I beat lots of folks that were probably better than me because of it.
Until this one day...
City Champ sent a little cornbread-faced little dude at me, who was about 5 foot nothing, and a 100 & nothin. We shook hands on the first tee at Pontchartrain, a 400 yard dogleg left par-4.
I hit first, and ripped a hard cut over Congress Drive, over some pin-oaks, to about 280, center cut.
He comes this little guy, and for Christ's sake, he is waggling CROSS-HANDED! Before I could shake my head twice, he swung cross-handed, jumping in the air through the ball, and hit it at least 40 by me. He nearly holed his pitch for a two, which was far from the only almost-holed pitch of his 66.
Somehow, after getting run off of the course on the front 9, I managed a 33 or 34 on the back and only lost my shirt.
I told Ricky, "I don't ever want to see Albert Crews again."
He laughed.
Congratulations, City Champ!
You deserve it.
#57 HOF 2010
