One of the first of what would be many I met as a young sportswriter at the Los Angeles Herald Examiner was a gentleman known as Bow Wow, who became a sacred part of UCLA athletics because of his close relationship with the football coach Tommy Prothro and who oversaw Blair Field security during Prothro's two forgettable seasons with the Rams.

Not much was known about the background of Stanley Thomas Wojtkiewicz except that he had been one of gossip columnist Sheila Graham's husbands and that the phone number on the business card he savored handing out to friends like me would lead you to an operator in Madrid, Spain.

And then there was the notorious Chicago Jerry Berliant, whom the late Cubs' announcer Jack Brickhouse once described as the ``world's greatest gate crasher'' and, oh, there wasn't a big sporting event or major press conference or A list party that Mr. Berliant would somehow make an appearance and who always had money even though he had no visible means of support and was rumored to be a disbarred attorney.

And then there was the elegantly dressed, tall gentleman always adorn in an expensive fedora from LA I knew only as Flip, and I always saw him at Laker games and always saw him at Caesars Palace at big fights where the hotel always bestowed him a lengthy reservation with the most desirable capital letters on it in Las Vegas---RF&B (free Room, Food & Beverage).

I was told Ol' Flip handled tickets for Don King, but how in tarnation did he always wind up at the finish line and winner's circle at the Kentucky Derby?

And then there was Norm (The Plunger) Gray, a Santa Clarita car dealer (the old Magic Lincoln Ford) who routinely made $250,000 bets on football games and who I saw one afternoon bet $50,000 a race at the Mirage sporting book and who I actually flew with him and his brother Bobby back from Las Vegas that weekend to Burbank on a 727 jet owned by the Mirage operator Steve Wynn (we three, a flight attendant and the two pilots were the only ones on the plane).

I once was invited to dinner with Mr. Gray at Caesars' exclusive Palace Court restaurant, and the tab for eight diners came to around $10,000 (plenty of servings of caviar and plenty of shots of Louis XIII), with Mr. Gray leaving a generous tip of five $1,000 chips.

And then there were the two legendary late LA ticket scalpers Donnie (No Win) Kramer and Alex Henig, both of whom kept you in stitches (one of Henig's pallbearers was O.J. Simpson) with their bizarre deportment.

All these individuals had titillating tales to tell and seemed to know everybody who was anybody---and always kept me wildly entertained with their eccentric antics.

Actually, there is a local gentleman who classically fits such a mold, and, of course, I'm talking about the founder of the Belmont Shore Rugby Club, Stu Ledsam, known far and wide among friends, foes and those who don't even know him simply as Bad Stu.

Oh yes, Bad Stu Ledsam, who once consumed 250 gold fish and perhaps 15 beers in less than an hour in an eating contest at the old Acapulco Inn and later that day somehow was able to attend a wedding in Newport Beach, who once was pepper-sprayed by cops during a brawl before a USC-UCLA game at the Rose Bowl, who once was thrown in an Atlanta jail for jaywalking before a Dodger-Brave game, who once got in a fight on the shoulder of the freeway access to the 210 after a UCLA game, and who once beat up a 300-pound former NFL player in the parking lot of the old Kelly's.

Bad Stu Ledsam relaxing at his home. The legendary LB character will speak Wednesday night at 6 o’clock at the Naples Rib Company on the rules and laws of 7 A Side rugby which will be seen in summer Tokyo Olympics

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But that was the old Bad Stu Ledsam, which he himself insists is far removed from the current milder albeit still ear-deafening boisterous, 71-year-old Bad Stu Ledsam, who after a lengthy period of frantic, skirt-chasing bachelorhood and perhaps with Heaven itself looming menacingly on the skyline has decided to settle drastically down since marrying three years ago his Mother Teresa-like Saviour, Paula Beck.

This rendition of Bad Stu Ledsam now belongs to the Long Beach Yacht Club, hangs with the likes of people such as Dr. Rick Adams, Mark Pratt, Big Ben Goldberg and the wealthy financier Ron Williamson, is a fundraising chairman of the Los Altos YMCA, does special projects for the Long Beach Boys & Girls Club president/CEO Don Rodriguez, is heavily involved in the Mentor Program at the Long Beach State School of Business, and has continued his long-time support of local area rugby.

``We have more than 400 kids involved in our various programs,'' says, Mr. Ledsam, who played on two national championship UCLA teams and 16 years with Belmont Shore.

And Wednesday night at 6 o'clock at the Naples Rib Company, Mr. Ledsam along with his old rugby pal Doug (Cherry) Pye will discuss the rules and laws of 7 A Side rugby that will be played at the Tokyo Olympic Games this summer.

``What a lot of people aren't aware of about rugby is that it's the fastest sport in the world and the second most popular one behind soccer,'' he says. ``And the 7 A Side version is totally non-stop action and non-stop scoring.''

Mr. Ledsam will go on and on and on about its infinite virtues---and how those kids attending rugby programs are taught the importance of discipline and sportsmanship.

Indeed, some of the most amazing monologues these ears ever have funneled into this consciousness came from Mr. Ledsam.

Indeed, get him going on his eclectic discourses, and you are startled by his insightful knowledge. What a vast stew.

Giacomo Puccini and Mozart are the top composers of opera. Shubert is overrated. Winston Churchill wouldn't have been blamed for the World War I Gallipoli disaster if his generals hadn't waited so long to attack. This country wouldn't have the racial divisiveness it is now experiencing had President Ulysses Grant been allowed to implement his reconstruction policies. The sheer impossibility of getting LB drinking legend John Hill drunk. The abominable political bias of academia and the media. The horrible wastage of time watching network TV shows. The in-depth comprehension and awareness learned from being a passionate reader of every National Geographic issue since 1974. The awfulness of the California Governor Gavin Newsom. The impractical insanity of electric cars. Gather all those useless windmills in the Mojave Desert near Palm Springs and dispose of them in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The impossibility of changing the politics of Bolshevik Bob Edmondson. Woodrow Wilson never should have thrown Eugene Debs into jail during World War I and never should have entered the US into the conflict in the first place. Sands of Iwo Jima is a great film. Brigitte Bardot might well be the most attractive woman ever born. Manny Pacquiao had the quickest hands in history when he was in his prime.

Bad Stu Ledsam was born in Australia, grew up in Beaumont in Riverside County where he attended high school, wrestled at Valley College under the tutelage of former NFL offensive lineman Duane Putnam, had a prosperous environmental business before retiring from it, operates a few cannabis shops in LB after a 12-year struggle to open, owns an apartment building in Denver, has three daughters and a son from his first marriage, and is now a grandfather of four.

Bad Stu Ledsam and wife Paula

He admits the passing of the years has mellowed him, but only to a certain extent.

"I detest boredom,'' says a man who recently spent a week with his wife and six friends having a blast in Ft. Myers, Fla., and also plans to soon visit Ron Williamson's sprawling ranch in White Fish, Montana, and usually spends his Friday nights eating, drinking and hoofing it up with his wife at the Boathouse

``Until I depart this celestial sphere, I will continue to have fun, but in a slightly more restrained way than I once did.''

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