Manny {l Wrote}:The triple option rules and I will not hear it slandered. That doesn't mean Monken would be the best choice for BC, but if you don't like watching option football I fear for your sanity.
As someone whose earliest childhood memory was watching Notre Dame "break the bone" with Ross Browner and Willie Fry (along with Bob Golic and Steve Heimkreiter) against Texas and Earl Campbell in the 1978 Cotton Bowl, grew up watching Oklahoma-Nebraska on Thanksgiving weekends as a child, cut off his peewee football jersey at the bottom so he could look like the white version of J.C. Watts and loved watching Nate Sassman and Dee Dowis run the bone in the 80s for some very good Air Force and Army teams (Sassman had a particularly memorable performance when he almost willed Army to victory over Doug Flutie during Flutie's Heisman season before falling short 42-31 or thereabouts), I will not take a back seat to anyone in my love for the wishbone. If I had my way, we'd return to the great days of the 1970s and 80s and we'd build monuments to QBs like Watts, Dowess, Sassman, as well as Turner Gill, Tony Rice, Jamelle Hollieway, Darian Hagan, Major Harris, Jack Mildren and the incomparable Tommy Frazier. Another reason among many to hate Da U and laugh and poke fun when their players are murdered in drug hits is the way they started the move away from the bone and pushed football towards its evolution to contact basketball on turf.
As for Tonto's excellent treatise on Deep Southern hookers, I have nothing to add except I believe that Hugh Freese wasting business with hookers in the Tampa Bay and Miami greater metro areas, so perhaps he enjoyed a little latin flavor from time to time. Now that he is back in the good graces of Jesus and living in Roanoke, I think his hooker options are severely limited to meth heads who work the truck stops and strip clubs along I-81--mostly Appalachian talent if I am guessing correctly.
True story, the most hideous "high end" hookers I have ever seen were, in fact, Boston hookers who showed up to strip for a friend's bachelor party in Newport back in the late 90s. The horrifying accents alone were enough to make me and a couple of other attendees leave the beach house and subject ourselves to some typical Newport summer bar populated almost entirely by girls from Simmons, URI, Providence, ZooMass and Bryant, which is a level of horror I would not wish on anyone.