Manley Focusing On Different Battles
A light-blue sign above the entrance to the Pam Lynchner State Jail implores in white letters: "Do the Right Thing." The facility, with barbed wire snaking around it, holds 2,144 inmates in several light-blue, two-story dormitories with gray roofs. The 64-acre compound amid tall trees seems much farther than 30 miles from Reliant Stadium in Houston, where the Carolina Panthers face the New England Patriots in Super Bowl XXXVIII on Sunday. The hoopla is of no interest to Inmate 1090194. He is Dexter Keith Manley. "I don't watch football. It's kind of painful," Manley said last week in an interview in the jail's visitors' area. He paused. "It's just a choice right now. I'm always thinking about the past: What I coulda, what I shoulda. I haven't put closure to that yet."

The former Redskins star, who will turn 45 Monday, is finishing a two-year sentence for possession of crack cocaine -- after receiving the maximum punishment -- with a March 5 release date. "For him, the excitement is not the Super Bowl," Manley's wife, Lydia, said in a telephone conversation. "The excitement is that he has 36 days left."

During nine seasons starting in 1981, Manley helped Joe Gibbs's Redskins win Super Bowls in 1983 and 1988 while setting the franchise record with 971/2 sacks. A 6-foot-3, 253-pound defensive end, Manley was a fan favorite with a playing ferocity that belied his constant, seductive smile. He also was known for the six-inch scar on his left cheek and colorful, cocksure remarks. Manley, whose NFL career was marked by suspensions because of alcohol and drug use, tested positive for cocaine three times with the Redskins, and the organization released him in 1990. After two more positive tests during single-season stints with Arizona and Tampa Bay, Manley was banned by the NFL in 1991.

Despite treatment, Manley continues to struggle with the drug he calls "the Beast." During a 45-minute interview, Manley, wearing a white jumpsuit and black boots, often flashed his familiar toothy grin, revealing braces to be removed after his release. Manley, who moved to Houston, his home town, in 1994, participates in a substance-abuse program administered by Alcoholics Anonymous, and a chaplaincy program. A group of six, including his wife, will guide and monitor Manley after his release. Manley intends eventually to return to Washington, and would like to land a job dealing with recovery. Although his dream is a role within the Redskins organization, he has no firm, short-term plans beyond overcoming his addiction. "I have the energy, I have the passion for football, but right now that's not doable," said Manley, who was arrested four times between November 1994 and July 1995 on drug-related charges. "They [the Redskins] have to be able to trust me. And recovery for a person like myself will take time. But I'm very hopeful that when I'm clean and sober, there's nothing I can't do."

Manley has become one of myriad story lines of the Super Bowl, which has brought approximately 3,500 journalists to Houston. In the past two weeks, he has been visited by journalists from HBO, ESPN and a few newspapers. Until recently, Manley lived in relative anonymity amid the prisoner population, comprised of mostly first-time drug offenders serving no more than two years for non-violent crimes. Manley, who was interviewed under the watchful eye of a nearby guard, has been ambivalent about the sudden spotlight -- "at this point, it's like a fix," he said -- but is mostly pleased about the media sessions, finding the give-and-take therapeutic. "It's starting to prepare him for the rest of his life," Lydia Manley said of the interviews. "It's making him start to answer questions for himself. I can tell it's stimulating him."

Manley has seldom been in touch with people from his football glory. The ex-Redskin to whom Manley speaks most often is defensive tackle Darryl Grant, although he said he has occasionally communicated in recent years with former defensive lineman Tony McGee and tight end Rick "Doc" Walker. Manley wrote Redskins owner Daniel Snyder almost three years ago, seeking a future role with the Redskins, and last spoke with Snyder when he was inducted into the Redskins Ring of Fame two years ago. Last week, he expressed gratitude that whenever he left a message for Snyder, the owner responded promptly, boosting his spirits. "I used to feel abandoned," Manley said, "because really I abandoned myself for a long time."

No outsider supports Manley more than his wife, who visits every Sunday. John Lucas, the former NBA player who battled drugs and has established treatment programs, is a frequent visitor. "I've been with Dexter on this journey for 10 years," Lucas said Saturday. "Unfortunately it took incarceration, but for the first time he has shown a humility, which is critical to recovery. Dexter knows he's not a football player anymore. He's finding out who he is."

Part of that identity remains tied to his athletic past. He lifts weights three days a week and walks for 50 minutes in the recreation yard six times a week. Manley, who didn't learn to read until he was 30, spends much of his time reading. Because of an interest in politics and current events, he subscribes to Newsweek. He often reads about meditation, but the publication that Manley reads the most is "the Big Book," from Alcoholics Anonymous, offering guidelines for preventing relapses. Manley doesn't subscribe to any sports magazines, but he couldn't have avoided the news heard 'round the NFL three weeks ago. On Jan. 8, Manley was in a class called "cognitive intervention" where he read a newspaper story about Gibbs's return to the Redskins. "My first thought was: 'The prodigal son has returned,' " Manley boomed, grinning and clasping his hands for punctuation. "Yeah!"

Manley credits Gibbs with helping him stay in the NFL until he was 32. After Manley's rookie year, Gibbs got him a job that offseason as a deputy sheriff in the Fairfax County Detention Center. "That was a message right there," Manley recalled, alluding to that job.

Despite living in Houston for the past decade, Manley wants to make Washington his permanent residence because, "I bleed burgundy and gold. We've gone through the wind, the rain and the storm," he said. "I love the Washington Redskins. I love Washington, D.C."

Walker -- who took interest in Manley as a rookie and showed him around town -- believes a return wouldn't be conducive to recovery. "I could be wrong," said Walker, an NFL broadcaster here for the game. "But I don't know how if it's a good thing for his addiction. There's too much pressure."

Former teammate Darrell Green lived one year in the Third Ward, one of the most impoverished neighborhoods in Texas and the place where Manley grew up. Green, who attended high school in the same district as Manley, believes that Manley's desire to move back to Washington stems from his bond with the community. "I'm no psychologist, but I bet he's saying, 'I want to show people in Washington,' " Green said. " 'Houston doesn't really know me. If I go back there and get a level of respect, that helps my own soul.' "

Like most people in the United States, prisoners will watch the Super Bowl (the game will be shown in the common area of each dormitory). Inmate 1090194 hasn't watched a Super Bowl since the St. Louis Rams beat the Tennessee Titans in 2000. Although he'll ignore this year's game, he will silently root for Carolina tailback Stephen Davis because of his Redskins ties. Otherwise, forget football. When Lydia Manley visited her husband last Sunday, they spoke about several topics for two hours yet conspicuously ignored the Super Bowl. "I wanted to talk about it. But then I thought if he didn't bring it up, I wouldn't," said Lydia Manley. "It never came up. I took note of that."

Nunyo Demasio, The Washington Post, 3 February 2004