Mark Doré: He's not perfect, he's not even close, but he's ours
New Yorkers have a short memory. Johnny Manziel's name did not pass among the population of New York for long – the Heisman Trophy, after all, however rare it may be for patrons of Kyle Field, is awarded every year. Johnny Football displaced the bright socks of Robert Griffin III, who displaced the loud smile of Cam Newton. It is cyclical. Athletes of Manziel's age flare brightly and fade.
But for the briefest of times, for someone walking at street level of Times Square, the biggest face in the world belonged to Johnny Manziel. Try to say that about any other A&M figure, ever.