The Seminal Master: Why Jack Johnson Would Be King Today
By Mike Casey
For some considerable time I have wanted to write a technical
appraisal of the magnificent and timeless Jack Johnson. I have refrained from
doing so because Jack, the great Lil’ Arthur as he was known, comes with so much
historically vital yet distracting baggage. His story – and ye gods, it is some
story even now – is so crammed with political intrigue and controversy that his
immense boxing skills are nearly always shoved onto the back burner and
mentioned in passing.
Johnson was a giant of a man in every way, but the prime
objective here is to demonstrate his wonderful knowledge and mastery of
something we used to call the Noble Art. Quite simply, it was the art of hitting
without being hit. It was about utter dedication and devotion to an
astonishingly difficult and slippery discipline. If you have ever stepped into a
boxing ring, even for nothing more than a light-hearted session with a pal, you
will know how infernally hard it is to avoid being struck. I have talked to many
young and eager amateurs who have nurtured dreams of stepping up in class. Armed
with the firm conviction that their defence is as sound as the good old dollar
used to be, they have reeled from sparring sessions with modest professionals in
a state of shock and disarray after being clobbered hither and yon.
Jack Johnson came from tough stock and got his grounding the hard
way. Men of his generation did. That is a crucially important point in itself
when we compare them to the men of today. Johnson and his peers were naturally
hard men who had to quickly learn to think on their feet in much harsher and
less sympathetic times. Getting to the top of the ferociously competitive fight
game required tremendous commitment and no slacking on the fundamentals.
Johnson had a good role model in his rugged father and was
sensible enough to listen to the wisdom passed down. Back in 1912, as he
surveyed the world from his championship throne, Jack said, “You want to know
the real secret? What got me started right away back when I was a kid? I’ll tell
you. It was my father, who was a slave before the war and who drove a United
States army wagon through almost all the struggle.
“He was the most perfect physical specimen I have ever seen and
he gave me the first lessons I ever had in taking proper care of myself, which
is the basis of all physical culture. Father was not a giant in stature, but he
was built like the old Roman gladiators. He could lift enormous weights and was
a fairly good wrestler, but he never did any boxing. He died in Texas six years
ago, 84 years old, strong till the day of his death. When I got started on my
career as a boxer, I always used to remember that instruction he gave me. I had
such admiration for his physical strength that whatever he said made a strong
impression on me. I realise now that I got my real start toward success in those
old days down south watching my daddy and heeding the advice he gave me.”
Two Ways
A boxer can go one of two ways when he is blessed with the
natural athleticism and talent that immediately places him on a higher standard
than legions of others. He can be satisfied with what he has, still be superior
to most and sail through life at a steady clip as he indulges his other
pleasures. What Jack Johnson did was what all the genuine greats are driven to
do. Recognising the head start that the gods had granted him, he worked
diligently to polish and perfect his gifts and elevate himself to the highest
possible plateau. Why be content with a stiff jab if you can have a sledgehammer
jab? Why be happy to merely deflect punches if you can learn to prevent them
from even taking flight? This was Johnson’s way of thinking.
Jack learned his trade thoroughly. Much like Bob Fitzsimmons,
Johnson had a constantly inquisitive brain and refused to accept textbook
teaching that he believed to be wrong or too constricting. Such was his
dedication and sheer bloody-mindedness, he even worked at bucking biological
constants. Yes, an orthodox man’s right arm will always be stronger than his
left. But as Jack saw it, one could still shorten the odds on that little
equation. He worked tirelessly at making the strength and power of his left arm
almost the equal to that of his right.
From his earliest days, like so many of the past masters, Johnson
realised that a correct stance, perfect balance and a sound defence were the
essential bedrocks of a boxer’s armoury and would increase his offensive
effectiveness accordingly. Through constant practice and study, Jack acquired a
water-tight shield of arms and gloves that could slip, feint and block incoming
fire and quickly return punishing artillery. In his majestic prime, he never
seemed to be in a position where he could not hit effectively, and was one of
the craftiest and most hurtful counter punchers the ring has ever seen. Nor
should the power of Jack’s blows be underrated. While he wasn’t in the league of
Dempsey, Louis or Marciano as a major league hitter, the superb accuracy and
timing of Johnson’s punches made them greatly damaging and debilitating to his
opponents. In the Great War, a particularly destructive German artillery shell,
which emitted thick black smoke, was known to British troops as a ‘Jack
Johnson’.
Now let us get the thoughts of a man whose boxing brain I have
admired for some time. My good pen pal and fellow historian, Mike Silver, who
will treat us to what should be a crackerjack of a boxing book this Fall, is
convinced that Jack Johnson still stands supreme among the heavyweight
champions, all of a hundred years after his prime. Mike’s reasons for according
Jack this accolade are numerous, and worthy of great consideration by those who
are blinded by today’s overriding obsessions with weight, supposedly superior
fitness (including various methods of cheating that are quaintly referred to as
‘diets’ and ‘supplements’) and the popular myth that boxing’s progress can be
measured on the same scale as track records and baseball averages.
Johnson’s brilliant and innovative mind was arguably his greatest
weapon. “Just think,” Mike Silver says, “at the turn of the century the sport
was still transitioning from bare knuckle to Queensberry boxing. The greatest
boxers of that era had to be innovative geniuses. Leading the contingent were
Jim Corbett, Peter Jackson, Tommy Ryan, Joe Gans, Sam Langford, Jack Blackburn,
Abe Attell, Owen Moran and Jem Driscoll.
“But they broke the mold with Jack Johnson. He was one of a kind,
both as an individual and as a fighter. Except for one other boxer - I’ll name
him later and it’s not who you think – Jack’s unusual style has yet to be
duplicated by any fighter of any weight, past or present. The modern day pundits
who erroneously rank as great boxers such athletically gifted but (unbeknown to
them) technically flawed and incomplete fighters as Floyd Mayweather Jnr and Roy
Jones Jnr., would not understand the subtle genius of Jack Johnson.
“Johnson adopted a stance that was similar to the ‘on guard’
position of a fencer. It allowed him to quickly sidestep or shift his weight to
either leg for offense or defense. Combined with his cat-like reflexes, the
stance caused opponents to misjudge their distance when they tried to reach him.
The effort would invariably throw them off balance, at which point Johnson would
step in and counter with a solid jab, right cross or uppercut. His superb jab is
often overlooked, but it was the main weapon in his formidable and varied
arsenal.
“Balance, distance, leverage and timing were of paramount
importance to Johnson – as they were to all master boxers of his era. Jack
always maintained proper balance and distance when he moved his feet or shifted
his weight. There was no wasted motion or effort – the mark of a master
craftsman. And he was always quick to recognise and exploit opportunities.
Johnson was basically a defensive minded counter puncher. Feinting was still
very much in vogue during Jack’s time and he used his head, legs, arms,
shoulders and eyes to create openings or confuse opponents. Johnson could
hypnotise you with his hand motions. They were always moving, sometimes broadly
and sometimes in little circular motions, ready to feint, lead, block or counter
punch. Johnson perfected the art of blocking or parrying punches with an open
glove – a lost art of today among many others. He was effective on offense or
defense, at long range or in close, and was capable of analysing another
fighter’s flaws and adjusting his style to fit the opponent.
“In his prime, it was almost impossible to hit Johnson with a
solid shot. In later years, thanks to his superb defensive skills and depth of
experience, a bloated Johnson tended to ‘loaf ‘ in order to conserve energy, but
his superb boxing skills were always in evidence and he did not take unnecessary
punishment. When he WAS hit (rarely), it was never with the same punch twice.
Sadly, other than the mismatches with Stanley Ketchel and Tommy Burns and his
easy go with a washed up Jim Jeffries, there is no film of Johnson when he was
at his absolute best – from 1905 to 1910. Jack understood his art like Einstein
understood the theory of relativity. Remember, when everyone was praising a
young Joe Louis in early 1936 as unbeatable, it was Johnson who noticed the flaw
in Joe’s armor: his vulnerability to a right hand counter.
“Only one other fighter had a similar style to Johnson’s. The
great Benny Leonard (lightweight champion 1917-1925) came closer than any other
fighter to duplicating – purposely or not – Johnson’s unique fencer’s stance and
all round ability. Move Johnson up to warp speed and you have the whirling
dervish boxing master Benny Leonard. Slow Leonard down to 33 1/3 and you’ve got
a facsimile of Johnson.”
Pounding Home The Lesson
It has long been a popular newspaper ploy: Put a meek and humble
man of God in the company of a brooding black brute and see what shakes out.
Sonny Liston and Mike Tyson got the treatment in one way or another, and Jack
Johnson got it way before that. When he was training for the Jeffries fight in
Reno in 1910, Jack was visited by the Reverend S.G. Wilson, pastor of the
Emanuel Baptist Church in Sparks, Nevada. The good reverend didn’t care for the
bloody fight game of course, but nobly suffered the experience anyway. “I was
astounded at the great muscles on Johnson’s shoulders, chest and arms,” he
remarked. Johnson, streetwise and possessed of deadly insight, immediately
picked up the patronising vibes. “If you had an arm like mine, Mr Wilson,” he
replied, “you could pound the Bible and pound religion into the people.”
Johnson was deadly serious in training camp and meticulously
mapped out a programme for himself that accounted for every eventuality in the
fight proper. To be sure, he was still his usual mischievous self and enjoyed
some joking and teasing with his sparring partners. But they very quickly
learned that they weren’t there to have a picnic. In preparing for Jeffries and
all the manic and intimidating fan support that would come in Jeff’s wake,
Johnson wanted to be in exactly the right physical and mental shape, able to
cope with any adverse developments from his opponent or outside agencies. Jack
knew the weather conditions would likely be brutal and worked from the premise
that he and Jeffries would be battling long and hard under a relentlessly hot
sun. ‘Sparring sessions’ would be a soft and wholly inappropriate description of
the hard fights Johnson put himself through in his extensive and exacting
preparations.
On July 28, he fought four men in succession at his training camp
and lashed them all with a strangely jocular coldness that clearly signalled his
steely determination. Jack laughed and taunted in these sessions, as Jack always
did, but he drew much blood and bled continually himself from one of the few
stray wallops that penetrated his magnificent defence. The sessions were no
stroll in the park for the unfortunate quartet of Al Kaufman, George Cotton,
Walter Monahan and David Mills. The temper of each man would gradually boil over
as Johnson baited them and punished them with jolting jabs and savage uppercuts.
While Al Kaufman and a few others around the camp bemoaned the high altitude,
Johnson wasn’t bothered by the searing heat and thin air.
It was Kaufman who cut Jack’s mouth, an act of impudence that
galvanised the champion to up his pace and intensity Johnson kept Kaufman in
line with a series of stiff and varied punches and a steady tattoo of short
jabs. Jack also exhibited his outstanding defensive skills, honed from years of
educative campaigning against all-comers. When Kaufman fired, Jack would
instinctively open his arms and either block the blows or quite literally catch
them in mid-flight. When the four allotted rounds were up, Al left the ring on
unsteady legs, his face a bloody mess.
As each sparring partner followed, so Johnson exhibited more of
the vast range of tools in his armoury. He feinted wonderfully with subtle
shifts of his head and body that would send out all sorts of wrong messages to
the recipient. The fast hands would often signal imminent strikes, which would
either remain in cold storage or be quickly retracted and then fired again when
the opponent had already committed to his counter strategy.
George Cotton, a young, muscled black fighter, enjoyed a brief
period of success against Johnson before taking too many liberties and receiving
his due punishment. Two lightning smashes to the face sent the claret flowing
from George’s nostrils. A mischievous and humorous man who wasn’t easily
deterred, Cotton smeared his blood all over Jack in the clinches and ignored
repeated warnings to cut it out. Johnson quickly resolved the issue. Two
slamming lefts, one to the jaw and the other flush on the chin, rooted Cotton to
the spot. His eyes closed and his hands dropped limply to his sides as several
trainers jumped into the ring just as he was collapsing. They draped George over
the ropes as they administered him iced water and salts.
Walter Monahan, a young and willing Irishman who was known to
bleed heavily, bled very heavily after Johnson caned him. David Mills, the last
of the sacrificial lambs, didn’t fare much better.
Jack Johnson was in the prime of his life and Jim Jeffries would
discover the folly of trying to turn back the clock.
Big George on Johnson
Years after his nightmare experience against Muhammad Ali in
Zaire, a much mellowed George Foreman came out of denial and was able to admit
to his tactical blunders. Big George was a great fan of Jack Johnson and said,
“I loved the parrying he did in the ring. A lot of times he would stop the
punches before they got started. I did this early in my boxing career – defense
first, then look for the punches. I forgot this with Ali, stormed in and got my
lights punched out. Jack Johnson, Jack Dempsey, John L Sullivan and even Ali are
names that still shake this world. Those names spell courage and great
strength.”
In 1961, Rocky Marciano was asked about the great heavyweights
and said, “I’d give Jack Johnson, whom many consider to be the greatest of ‘em
all, the edge over Utah’s Jack Dempsey. Of course, Johnson was far ahead of my
time, but old-timers tell me he had everything – every requirement of the
greatest of them all.”
Jack Dempsey unhesitatingly described Jack Johnson as a boxing
genius. Said the Manassa Mauler, “Johnson was a master on the defensive, a
natural fighter who came from the lower divisions and, through hard work and
constant study, developed himself into a title-holder. I believe Johnson was one
of the greatest heavyweight champions we have had.”
Legendary manager Jimmy Johnston saw plenty of talent during
boxing’s golden age, when the sport vied for column space with baseball as the
top sport in America. In 1943, Johnston said, “Jack Johnson, is, I think, the
greatest heavyweight champion the world has had under the Marquis of Queensberry
rules stretching back to late in the nineteenth century. Johnson is number one
on my list because of his boxing ability, his defensive tactics and his
knowledge of ringcraft. On the day he won the title, he would have defeated any
other fighter who ever became champion.”
In making his choice, Jimmy Johnston considered the factors of
boxing skill, footwork, all-round cleverness, adeptness at feinting and avoiding
punches, strength, sportsmanship and the ability to fight back when hurt.
A Champion For All Seasons
Jack Johnson was not merely a fistic wonder of his era. He was a
seminal and timeless world heavyweight champion who would have dominated his
peers in any pocket of time, most especially in the weak and shallow seas where
today’s bloated and manufactured heavyweights wallow like whales in their dreary
comfort zone.
Huge heavyweights, especially those of the present era, rarely
possess the killer instinct. They will invariably run from smaller aggressors or
tip-toe gingerly around them like an elephant around a mouse or an arachnophobic
around a spider. We have seen the overwhelming evidence of this in the faltering
progress of Wladimir Klitschko, who, for all his recent technical improvement
and punching power, will always be a major accident waiting to happen. He was
plainly fearful of Corrie Sanders and duly got wrecked. Klitschko came unhinged
again in his first fight with Lamon Brewster and very nearly came a cropper
against Samuel Peter. The Ukranian went on a nice little knockout run after
that, but was right back to his tentative, safety-first approach in the ‘big
one’ against Sultan Ibragimov.
With increasing weariness, I have just about lost count of the
number of slow waltzes I have seen in recent times between big blobs with big
muscles who are sucking in air and cuddling each other for dear life after three
rounds of what might be politely described as ‘action’.
Jack Dempsey argued repeatedly that a giant heavyweight couldn’t
help but lose a significant degree of athleticism and punching effectiveness.
Jack maintained that the ideal weight was between 190-200lbs and certainly not
more than 220. He described Jim Jeffries as the perfectly proportioned
heavyweight, as indeed was the young George Foreman at his wrecking ball peak in
the early seventies.
In this writer’s opinion, only three other heavyweight champions
are fit to inhabit the same lofty ground as Jack Johnson: Jack Dempsey, Joe
Louis and Muhammad Ali.
Dempsey, the perfect fusion of boxer and fighter, has become a
hero once again to the new-age, slam-bang brigade whose boxers must be sub-human
and fight to the death in cinematic-like battles of brutality and blood. Well,
yes, Dempsey could do all that and acquit himself exceptionally well. Sadly,
however, Jack’s once parallel (and thoroughly deserved) reputation as a
versatile boxer of cunning cleverness is now either neglected or simply not
known to a uniform generation that feels insecure if it can’t slot people into
specific pigeon holes. Thus Dempsey is simply classified as a slugger, a swarmer
and a banger by those who don’t or won’t look and learn.
In facing Johnson, I have always felt that Dempsey, who could be
as patient as a lion when the assignment was especially threatening, would have
got home at some point with the decisive smash that would have unhinged Lil’
Arthur and set him up for the kill. But I tell you honestly, as a fairly
successful betting man, that I would steer well clear of having a punt on this
one! It is this uncertainty that fascinates me about Johnson. The more you know,
the more you learn, so it becomes impossible to state with firm conviction that
any heavyweight would have taken him.
Having explained my all-time rankings in various other articles,
I don’t have the space in this feature to re-iterate my criteria. Let me just
say that the ratings are not based purely on who would have beaten who. Joe
Louis presents an interesting case in point here. I give Joe the narrow edge
over Johnson largely because of the Bomber’s great reign as champion. In terms
of pure fistic talent, however, I believe that Jack held more aces than Joe,
both physically and mentally. We know that Louis could be thrown by subtlety
and cleverness. He nailed Billy Conn and Jersey Joe Walcott in the end, but
would Louis have nailed the quintessential ring mechanic in Johnson? I don’t
believe so. I envisage a scenario where Joe would still be looking for the big
shot at the final bell, having been bewildered all the way through by an array
of shifts, feints and bluffs. Gene Tunney, at his absolute best, might have
ghosted past Louis in similar fashion.
Muhammad Ali, arguably, would have given Johnson his most
formidable chess match. At his very best, which I still believe was from late
1965 to 1967. Ali might just have been sufficiently quick and funky to ‘steal’ a
decision off Johnson. But Muhammad would have needed the speed he had in those
golden years before he came down off his feet and matured into the wise old
general. Those latter gifts wouldn’t have got him home against Johnson, who was
the greatest general of all. Put on the spot, I can’t see either version of Ali
outsmarting Johnson. Muhammad would have been encountering an obstacle he just
wasn’t accustomed to; that of an even smarter boxing brain than his. Johnson
knew everything that Ali did, and plenty more besides.
But enough of one man’s opinion. Here is style analyst Curtis
Narimatsu on Johnson’s strengths and his chances against the fellow greats:
“Johnson’s intelligence was his greatest asset. He demoralised foes by psyching
them out. Ali, the talking head/noisebox, was Jack’s incarnate. Johnson backed
up his act via mobility and defense. His offense and general superiority was
amplified by his fast hands. When he sat down on his punch, he was lethal, but
he flitted about because was not a killer by nature, more a mischievous chap.
“My great old pal Hank Kaplan said that Johnson was the greatest
ever defensive heavyweight, because he used his feet to evade attack, not his
torso a la Ali, which had Muhammad only inches within being hit.
“The greatest fighters adapt to the times. Johnson’s natural,
God-given athleticism is the perfect match for today’s zip-quick ring style. As
we know, Jeffries lamented that he might not have beaten Johnson even at Jeff’s
peak. Johnson had the legs to outwork Jack Dempsey and the legs to outbox Louis.
Johnson had everything in the wagon to dominate Marciano. Ali had faster hands
and quicker feet, which he would have employed by necessity to outbox Johnson.
It is a tribute to Jack that Ali credited him for the famous ‘anchor punch’ in
the second Liston fight.”
Historian Mike Hunnicut, a good and valued friend of mine whose
love and knowledge of the old game shines like a lighthouse, has watched hours
of quality film on the great fighters, measuring their strengths and weaknesses
in the finest detail. Mike believes that Johnson was one of only seven truly
great heavyweights. Here is how the esteemed Mr H sees it: “In order of
greatness based on a 10-fight series against the top 500 heavyweights ever,
those with the most wins, in my opinion, would be Dempsey, Louis, Tunney,
Sullivan, Johnson, Jeffries and Ali.
“Johnson was off the charts in reflexes, boxing genius and the
ability to take chances to prove he was the greatest defensive boxer the
heavyweights ever saw. Tommy Loughran was the only other fighter in history, on
film, to pick punches out of the air with ease. Johnson’s balance and strength
were incredible. He had an exceptional chin, rock hard body, very fast hands,
and a good, hard punch in either hand. The only weakness I could see in Jack
was, at times, not closing the show when he should have.
“I see Sullivan, with his great endurance, able to take 6.25
bouts from Johnson out of 10. Jeffries would win only twice from Jack, due to
styles over 15 rounds.. Dempsey’s off-the-chart scores in co-ordination and
compact punching to the head and body, sees him winning six out of 10 times over
Johnson. Tunney would also edge Jack, due to being a bit too busy. Louis would
knock out Johnson three times but lose the rest as Johnson’s strength, reflexes
and knowledge would overwhelm Joe. Ali never truly saw his prime and needed a
bit more seasoning to win any more than four times against Johnson, who was more
experienced, harder to hit and a harder hitter.
“Marciano and Joe Frazier would be among Johnson’s toughest
opponents, but wouldn’t win more than four times out of ten. Tyson might win
once by knockout, otherwise he’s in for a thrashing. Lennox Lewis would be
humiliated, and I don’t think George Foreman would win one fight in a 10-bout
series against Johnson. Even early on, Foreman threw sweeping haymakers and
Johnson would duck and throw him into the ropes – as he did to Frank Moran – and
maybe out of the ring when Foreman tires. Johnson was freakishly strong like
Foreman. Jack could swing his 300lb manager around on his neck for fun. For me,
Johnson is the one man who comes closest to whipping the prime Dempsey, but
Dempsey was too much of a killing panther even for Johnson.”
King Of The Eras
Mike Silver can find little joy for the past and present
champions against Jack Johnson at his magnificent best. “I give the edge to
Johnson in fights against Louis, Dempsey and Ali only because of Johnson’s
superior boxing brain combined with his experience and ability to quickly adjust
to different circumstances and styles. Johnson would have outboxed Louis and
tied him up on the inside. Same with Dempsey. In both cases, Johnson’s jab would
be the deciding factor. And he had enough power to keep them both honest. But
Johnson’s footwork would have had to be working overtime as well. By no means
would it be easy – we are talking about great vs great after all – and the
punching power of Louis and Dempsey would make them dangerous throughout a 12 or
15-round encounter. But I would still make Johnson the favourite in both these
fights.
“Ali, at his best, presents a different problem, because he was
so unconventional and his speed and evasiveness as a heavyweight is
unparalleled. I am confident that Johnson would have figured out Ali’s style and
how best to fight him.. The question is, whether he could overcome Ali’s speed
and reflexes. But Johnson also had great speed. He would analyse Ali’s style,
find the flaws, keep Ali occupied with a busy jab and catch him enough times to
take a close but unanimous decision. It would be an interesting tactical fight,
but in this case it all comes down to boxing ability. As Ali aged and slowed, it
became obvious that his boxing skills, minus his speed, were limited. As Johnson
aged and slowed, his great boxing ability became even more apparent – at least
to those who understand such things.
“How would Johnson have done against today’s heavyweight
pretenders? It would be a joke. Jack often toyed with overmatched opponents.
During the fight he would talk and wave to ringsiders he knew, or carry on
conversations with reporters while hapless opponents tried to hit him. Today he
could send out for a full course meal, finish it with one hand, then have a
cigar, read the evening paper and follow it with a short nap – and he would
still come out the winner!
“Bottom line: in my opinion, Jack Johnson is the greatest
heavyweight champion of all.”
Rock ‘n’ Roll Over!
Jack Johnson undoubtedly became bitter and resentful with the
passing years, as he continued to be excluded from the mainstream. His constant
baiting of Joe Louis reached tiresome and unfair proportions. But one could
understand much of Jack’s frustration as he surveyed the new kids on the block.
He had learned his great trade inside out and could detect the steady dilution
of quality and education. The Mozart of boxing couldn’t bear to see his
classical music turning into rock ‘n’ roll. “You don’t see many good boxers
today,” Johnson mourned at the age of fifty-seven. “You don’t see men who know
how to block and parry punches as they should. All they know is to weave in and
try to land blows with their right hands. Then after a few fights they’re screwy
from getting hit on the jaw too much.
“I started to box when I was sixteen, never had a cauliflower
ear, never suffered a bad cut, nor so much as a nose bleed in the ring. Why?
Because I learned how to box.”
Johnson said the greatest boxer he ever saw was Jim Corbett. The
most accurate hitter, in Jack’s opinion, was Bob Fitzsimmons. Freckled Bob,
weighing less than 160lbs, knocked out the 300lb Ed Dunkhorst with a single,
devastating shot to the pit of the stomach; such was Fitz’s scientific knowledge
of punching. Johnson, Dempsey, Louis, Ali and Tunney possessed similarly quick
and lateral minds that could adjust to a shifting playing field and conjure the
route to victory. They were boxers of wonderful intelligence, power and grace.
Thanks anyway, but these men would have no need of a
cruiserweight division in 2008. They would likely regard it as patronising.
> The Mike Casey Archives
<
|