Jenkins: The Diesel fumes
 

John Riggins refuses to be one of those ex-NFL greats for whom retirement is a matter of infinite glory, all slack gut and sentiment. At 60, he's got a chest of hard-packed muscle, and the outlook of a subversive. He doesn't have wrinkles so much as slashes, deep cuts worn into his face by cynicism and amusement, which make his gap-toothed smile look more like a wince. The smile is followed by an acid-washed sound that turns out to be laughter, at his own expense.

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